Yuuri leaned against the wall outside Wolfram's room, the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes and his fingers twisted in his hair. What had he done? Wolfram was one of the strongest people he knew, and yet he, Yuuri, in one single moment of thoughtlessness, had broken him, perhaps beyond repair.
Countless times during the past three weeks Yuuri had tried to talk to the fiery young noble, or at least make eye-contact with him. Wolfram had resisted, but the few times he had managed to get a glimpse of the blonde's eyes it had… frightened him. Never before had he seen such deep hurt and betrayal as he saw glowing in the clear green depths of the soldier's gaze. It made him feel sick just thinking about it.
"I won't let you hurt me anymore."
"We're through, Yuuri."
"I don't want to see you anymore."
"Just go!"
Yuuri swallowed hard. Wolfram had often been angry with him, but never had his words been so pain-filled, so cold, and so final. If only he hadn't… But it was far too late for "if onlys". All he could do know was keep trying to make up for what he'd done, keep begging for Wolfram's forgiveness. He didn't care how long it took or how slim a chance he had. He would get Wolfram back.
God damn it, but why had he been so stupid? And doing it in the room he shared with the blonde soldier, of all things! He should have known Wolfram was going to find out!
Yuuri's fist connected brutally with the unforgiving stone wall, heedless of the audible crack of bone and the blood that bloomed across his knuckles. He bowed his head, tears trickling down his cheeks and dripping onto the floor. Wolfram… I'm so sorry… Forgive me! I never… never meant to hurt you… I never meant for you to know…
It was just then that Günter rounded the corner and spotted the king. "Your Majesty!" Swiftly he hurried forward, drawing in a sharp breath when he saw the dark-eyed boy's hand. "Your Majesty, what have you done?"
The young Maou looked up, and Günter took a step back when he saw the agony roiling in those twin pools of black. "I've become the traitor… he always accused me of being." He dropped his head again and slowly walked off down the corridor, ignoring both the blood seeping down his fingers and the frantic pleas for an explanation from the man behind him.