Firm, strong and determined fingers were wrapped harshly around his. There was not much to say when he was led steadily away from the ballroom, paintings and rich decorations rushing past them like a smudge without getting an even clear glance.
If the composer was to be entirely and completely upfront with himself; he was nervous. Nervous and tense about all that has happened so far into the present. He had quite literally psychologically broken down in front of the man of his hatred and admiration. Done so without even realizing it at first. And by now the older was dragged to lord knows where to supposedly be able to utter up a conversation about that specific event.
The younger of the two kept himself two strides in front of the other seemingly not willing to slow down his pace, making Salieri stumble multiple times at the sudden harsh turns at the corners. He couldn't tell from his own dazed perspective, but Mozart supposedly kept the stern expression on his face all throughout the passage through the long flour textured corridors.
Even though the minimal walk didn't last for that lengthy of a time, the taller man's mind couldn't help but wonder. Wonder what the younger's intentions were. It must be clear as the mid summers blue sky that the fancy gentleman's display of any overbearing emotions; was clearly the most unbearable position he ever could be put in. It should never happen. It was the most forbidden law for Salieri.
But then it hit him.
Of course! How could he be so dumb?
He was torturing him.
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was torturing him.
And he knew that he was.
He must know that he was.
What else would this otherwise be?
Abusing, Tormenting, Mistreating, Wounding, Persecuting, Punishing, it didn't matter how it was described; it was the same thing anyways. One does not just witness a renowned Symphonist emotionally disintegrate and just propose to them to "talk". No, you humiliate and shame them. To be up around the angels with the best orchestrated music in hand is not a journey of your own, it's a challenge. A way of showing the creator himself that you are the worthiest out of all the other living beings. And to do that you need to knock out the competition, no matter what the cost. If one really should be vic—
"Well, we're here then."
"Ah…"
Feeling a heavily concerned look going to his direction, the composer guided his attention quickly to their surroundings, letting out a lightly surprised gasp when his gaze was met with the harsh overpowering brightness.
They were outside.
The soft grassy ground seeming alien compared to the cold pine wood floors he had walked on oh so often, the direct heat of the midsummer sun shining down upon his being and how could his eyes ever forget, the breath-taking colours of gracefully pampered flowers. Digitalis, Campanula, Peonies, Syringa Vulgaris and Reticulate.1 He knew every Latin word of them all.
So mesmerized by the new environment he had not noticed the absence of a certain hand in his and going forward towards the middle garden. Not shortly after seeing a small drinking fountain surrounded by a few doves dipping their beaks into the water. For the first time in a long while; the older man couldn't help but feel amused at the sight.
So peaceful and not bothered by their surroundings at all, how he wished he could do the same. Wished that he could just ignore everything in life for once. Wished that… he had this kind of garden that he could sit in and admire. But it wasn't his garden now was it…?
Hands hanging loosely started gripping tightly at his sides.
It was Mozart's. Everything was Mozart's. Everything he ever wanted and worked so hard for was always-! …Mozart's.
And right at that moment; Salieri had tensed up yet again, he seemed to never be able to see past his jealousy. It made him want to more and more thrash his surroundings into pieces, urging to see that the constant joy vanish from the other man's face.
But before he could contemplate on his sinister thoughts even further; something soft brushed past his fingers. His gaze quickly shot downward with surprise.
A plant with strong extensive petals was laid gently in the palm of his, presenting a dark violet contrasting considerably with his fair skin. The senior raised his eyebrows questionably at the action, only to see the slightly younger man smile at him genuinely. It was a rare sight to behold and could only mean one thing as he looked down yet again at the flower in his hands.
"Oh… O-oh n-no, I s-shouldn't-!"
Mozart snorted at his flustered response.
"Come now, it's just a simple flower Maestro. I sure wont miss much with one gone out of a thousand. Besides, I've heard you're quite fond of this breed."
"…Clematis. The name of it is Clematis."
"Clematis Rhapsody² if we're going to be specific here." The taller raised his brows a bit judgingly at the others correction. "Oh, don't look at me like that!" Salieri couldn't help but flinch as he was flicked harshly on the nose. As if it was a reminder of who he was actually talking with. "You weren't the only one raised to know every existing plants name possible by your father."
There was a pause and a mumble he couldn't quite hear. "Or well… more specifically the folk he hired…"
"I'm sorry?"
"Well, anyway however! Such a boring subject aren't the reason why we are here now is it?" Despite the grin on the shorter bloke's lips, one could notice the much more serious look in his eyes. As if the mischievous and playful glint he always seemed to have somehow disappeared for good.
The more mature gentleman felt a hard lump in his throat.
Right. That's why they were here wasn't it…?
The childish man seemed nonchalant as he strode calmly into another section of the garden, expecting for the much more terrified one to follow. Maybe the plant given to him was a subtle way of calming his senses down. He would never admit to how much that seemed to actually work. They stopped abruptly with the somewhat shorter of the two looking over his shoulder intensely at Salieri. Gesturing his hand in the direction of an obviously fancily carved seater hammock, slightly swinging back and forth by the wind. He expected for the other to follow his orders.
"Please sir, have a seat."