Chapter Text
I've found that life has been an inch too tough for someone like me.
Wrapped around my parents' fingers so thin that I threaten to break. That if you look well enough, you'll seen inside of me, all of me. My worst. My best. But all I have is my worst. You're able to push things into me, like pins or nails, without having to fear about my hands or legs pulling them out. Because they are far to long and thin to move. Too far away for me to reach.
I suppose this sort of ending for me was always expected by my parents. They always seemed always acutely aware that the way I was raised- the way most rich children are raised, I assume,- would only end in me loathing them. Of me running away somehow, some way, despite all their grand measures, away with some sort of lover or at the very least friend.
It was always in the stories I would read. All I owned were cautionary tales of poor children like I, dreaming of lustrous paradise while encumbered in their rooms like elegant beasts, made only to serve their parents nefarious deeds. They would somehow escape, but find that the world beyond was worse than the one inside. So cruel and cold.
Perhaps it would have worked. Perhaps, maybe, I would have been stuck here with them until I myself claimed the roles and titles of my family, then stuck to continue attempting to please them with my courtships, my partnerships, how I walked, how I acted, how I would then raise my own kids, so on. But truthfully, I never saw my parents in the one in the stories.
After all, they made the children like me not quite like me at all. Whiny, spoiled, comparatively free, with parents that cherished and adored them, only wanting them to stay inside their luxurious abodes for the true fear of the world outside. My parents aren't much like that. Not at all. Besides, on the rare occasion I do leave the grounds, it's not so much wooded area filled with creatures horrid and unfriendly as it's just people. People no better then the ones I am surrounded by.
But enough about my self pitying. Greetings. I am Julian "Four" Feuderline, of the Feuderline noble family. I don't say that name with grace, I say it of habit and for clarity. My lover, which, might I mention, calling them that still leaves me dumbfounded, is Romeus "Two" Tethenline. Also a noble, though they were infinitely more free than I ever was. One of us could leave our rooms as we wished at the minimum, and that wasn't I.
I suppose I should start at the beginning. After all, you wouldn't be here, would you? You'd have cut through the middle of this just to get to some more interesting moments, or perhaps the end if you're particularly pathetic. Don't mind me though, I'm probably worse.
"Frank!" I'm awoken from my slumber, not by the more personal and friendly number of myself, but by my identificatory name. I quickly rise out of my bed. Not another word is said, as per usual. It would be strange otherwise. I quickly sit myself myself at the vanity mirror, pampering my hair and face in cremes and with a brush. After all, I'm a cooler color, signifying my delicate nature.
I'd be mad at them for that in particular if that wasn't how the world in general worked, even as I sit here, outside of any castles with the gentle Two, and neutral and therefore a regularly strong green. Though, I find that our natures are more from how we are raised than how we are born, but that's too worldly an idea for me to think about at the moment.
It takes me exactly 10 minutes to finish. one task down in the schedule. The moment I stand, a maid comes in. A grey neutral, just soft enough to not 'leave a mark on me,' as my parents seem to always excuse. Probably why I'm so disdainful to touch, even now. She has a dress in hand. A dark blue with white lace to make me appear all the brighter. It seems I'm always wearing variations of the same dress. This time, the difference seems to be that the sleeves are a centimeter puffier, with little ribbons. I can only hope they don't bother, but as I wear it, I find that they do only that.
I am hurried out of the room. Not physically of course, I would simply bruise, but the maid is eager to see me leave so I can return to the pristine, sterile room as seen every night before I sleep. I make my way, through the lengthy hallway, to the dinning room. One of the few times I see my parents. My father, a bright, dare I say repugnant red, and my mother, a neutral yellow. There isn't usually much chat between us, unless I do something wrong. Perhaps that's why I barely find any regret in leaving them in myself. After all, even the kids with the worst going on tend to have something in them, don't they? Or perhaps I'm in the wrong.
I see the pair of them eating full meals of some steak, or whatever divine substance is on their plate. All I've had are sneakings off their plates when they were both focused on emergencies. It's eons better than the completely disregarded cornflakes I'm served. They say sugar is a sin. They say fat is a sin. They say slim is pretty. That's it's healthy. That it's holy. I don't feel very holy. I just feel weak. I see how the maids look at my body. With regret. With a sympathy.
It doesn't take long for me to finish my meal. It's easy to throw down my stomach, I suppose. A few gnashes and it's practically gone. I'm probably hurting my throat with how fast and loose I act with it, but I don't find a semblance of care within myself. Either way, it's too late to correct course, as they've started to plan my day around my shorter mealtimes long before I was aware they'd think to do something like that.
I'm nearly finished when my father says something. So rare to pick up his voice. I raise my head high, prepared for a verbal breakdown of my whole self. "You have a new tutor." A tutor. I've asked for one before, several times. Specifically for math. The subject has always seemed interesting. Some say it's the language of the universe, but to most that just sounds blasphemous, even as we draw numbers to look much like ourselves. Or maybe it's the other way.
"For what cause, Father?" He squints. It's not that he can't see me. He has glasses on. But I can see the hint of regret, or perhaps disgust, that lines the features of his face. An extra wrinkle of crows feet, a little more depth. "Well, despite our best efforts and assumptions, it seems that a future suitor of yours would rather you be educated beyond language."
That supposed suitor. They have one in line, as they have for about a decade and half, the same age as I, but I've never seen them. I've never known about them. No more than a threat. I have no face to a name, and I have no name to a face. But for once, I am able to let it go. I am able to see an ounce of appreciation for this near imaginary figure and their blessedly useful tastes for I.
"When will I be meeting this tutor?" He doesn't answer. He seems practically bored of me already, despite me being his only child. A knight gently places my timecard on the table in front of me. A completely covered thing that recounts my entire day. Right after breakfast, it seems. I look at the guard and whisper small thanks, and they nod. I feel a small, comforting pat on my back, but a sharp clearing of my father's throat quickly pulls them and the time table away from me.
I can't help but feel a small thumping in my heart. A teacher all of my own. Perhaps someone new who will extend a personal kindness to me. Someone who would ask about my day. Someone who would teach me everything. Someone who I can lay my head on and have comfort me in a way never done, but always wished for. I'm curious, hopeful, for the first time in years.
They weren't who I expected. Namely, I expected an adult. But it was a special choice from Infinity, I say, to have had them. As you may recall, I had someone. Someone who I escaped with not long after I met them.
Two. Well, at this point I just called them Mr. Cavallet, but they're the same age as I, just a few months older. And, that isn't their real name of course, but the reason for the different name will come later.
We were met together in the garden patio. A guard was with us for only a moment before deciding it was alright to leave us. Their sympathy for the pathetic child leeching, much like lead to a tomato, into their actions. It was a nice spot to be left, at the very least. I don't get to appreciate the garden very much, my room tightly set inside the castle on a lower floor, shielded from natural light with bricks and mortar, as any prisoner.
"Hi! I'm Romeus.. Cavallet! But you can call me Two!" They shoot their hand out like a bullet, so excited to meet me. I later learn it's out of a genuine hospitality in their heart rather than a lack of friendships of their own that brings them to such swiftness. I know it would be my reason. The thing I notice first after their speed is a small splotch of green on their hand. Yes, in every place but that spot, they're a cool grey.
Instead of shaking their hand, my first thought is to scratch at the small bit of green. They look down quickly and retract their hand. "Ha-haha! Sorry, don't mind that! I... Forgot to wash my hands!" They continue to laugh. I would have found them gross, and begun to harbor a disdain for them, if it weren't for the fact that the green didn't scratch off. I'm not a lot of things, but if there was anything I could pride myself in, I would have to say my natural intelligence would be a factor.
I quickly leans forward, over the silver outdoor table we are sat at, and wipe a modicum of what turns out to be makeup on their face. underneath I see green- and a small bit of red? It's almost as if they put blush beneath the hard dabbing of gray. Thinking about it now, I think they were just embarrassed. Though, I like to think that's the moment they first started to really like me...
They quickly grab my hand- a little too firm for my liking, but I suppose that's only from the babying throughout my years on Earth. They quickly let go, noticing my discomfort. A real kind soul. They plant my face on the table. I lean my head forward, not sure what to make of the situation afoot. My tutor has completely hidden themselves in a discoloring hue of makeup and is sad.
I've never known how to comfort, not have I been comforted beyond my natal years. So I try to keep things going. "Excuse me, Mr. Cavallet, as you were..." Their sudden raising of their head spooks me back in my seat, another jump in my heart. I've never been so riled up. "Wait, you don't care that I'm... What if I harm you? Have you thought of that?" They say. I know they don't mean that. Now, I'm certain they wouldn't have harmed me, not intentionally at least.
I more or less shrug. "And risk my chance of possessing a tutor? Defile me with scarring all along my body as long as I grow my knowledge as my skin lacks any care from myself by this point." That much is still true. I continue to cleanse it, to cherish it, not of my own accord, but because I'd like to be a soft thing for Two to touch. Dainty. And it's all of my own will, which is the greatest gift they've given me besides themself.
I see a small smile form on their lips. They pull out a small hand mirror and touch up the markings on their face. I've learned enough about courtesy and respect to know to say sorry for my actions, and therefore mumble a small apology. They don't seem to hear it, or maybe just don't care for it, and finish up. "Okay! Please don't touch me again. Or, if you do, give me a heads-up. I think... You're pretty nice to touch." I think that if they didn't have the makeup on, I would have seen blush on their face.
I quickly nod, making a silent promise to myself not to touch them anymore- I broke it rather quickly, but I say it’s for the better- and Two pulls out their textbook, a leatherbound beauty with pages upon pages of problems. They start at the very first page. “Say, do you understand the very basics? Like, 1 + 1?” I firmly nod my head. That was the least my parents could allow me. Knowing how many make up palates I own or whatever must be important to them, because the way I see it, I think that’s the only time I’d use it.
Two lets out a small sigh, clearly having been daunting the task to teach me the entire concept. I almost get a little upset at the thought that they think I would know nothing, but I suppose I did know next to nothing, didn’t I?
Despite myself, I push through. It doesn’t take me very long to understand multiplication and division. They seemed to be very simple. It seemed to almost shock Two a bit, and I couldn’t tell if I should have felt elated or embarrassed at the reaction. Negative numbers, then more difficult things like the rules of how negative numbers multiplied or divided with each other, and before I knew it, class was nearly over. The watch on my arm- a beautiful, silver thing, showed nearly 9. I would have to attend a ballet class soon.
Two, I assume seeing how distraught I was, tried to cheer me up. “Wow, Four!” I didn’t mind the casual name. If anything, it was comforting. I was glad to have that in them, even if it wasn’t the familial type I was craving. “You did great! You got all the questions right, and you got the concepts so fast- you’re like a sponge! Thirsting for knowledge! For math!” I feel my face get a touch red. I twirl some of my curly hair with my finger, looking down and away.
What a compliment it is to be declared smart. Even in a room of no one but yourself. “So smart. And yet you don’t try to leave.” Two says, almost a little absent-mindedly. My heart freezes in my chest, a different type of excitement, if you could call it that. “I-I’m sorry?” They realize what they’ve said and back up a bit. “Oh- uh- Don’t mind me! Just blabbering, haha…” They look worried, but the face I wear- I think fear- makes them continue speaking again.
”I- I’m not- I’m not going to do anything to you! If that’s what you’re worried about… I just… It’s strange you never try to leave your family… The town-“ before they can finish their thought, I feel a metal hand on my shoulder. A knight. I don’t know if it’s the same one before. It’s not as if they’re particularly distinct, what with their metal regalia. The attitude is a little colder though. I look towards Two. Newly silent. Seeming to be trying to avoid getting looked at.
I’m snatched away from Two from the rest of the day. Learning how to care for children, two other thinly made meals, acting prim and proper, the bare minimum of flexing an exercise to not begin to decay… And then my day is over. Just like every other day. I sit in the dark, almost literally, the day behind me forgettable, all but in one way. My tutor. The one person I know this far to see me beyond pity or my role.
My morning is a little more eventful. Today, I begun with a shower, carefully scrubbing my delicate skin. Specialized soaps, luffas, and scrubs, all to keep it pristine. I, of course, assumed that it was necessary by that point, to be treated as fragile. That I would lose my saving grace if I didn't.
I was thinking about that very thought then. It's a thought I have quite a lot, usually before I intend to do something energized or loud. A reminder that I am not a warm color, or even neutral. Incapable of such things without harm. However, something different happened. A new thought after it. 'My skin is something to be glorified, sure, but surely my intelligence is worth something?...' I almost pause my actions at the thought, even though I don't have the time to afford to do so.
What a thought. To be beyond what I was for years.
Once I finished up, I had chosen to be more spiffy than usual. The usual creams and lotions, and careful brushing, but this time... Just a bit. Just a bit of makeup. I felt a little odd for doing it. Maybe a little angry at myself. After all, I was doing it for someone I didn't know and who didn't require it. Worst of all, I think I was attempting to gain their affections.
I'd thought of removing it right then and there, but I didn't have the time. A maid came in today. This time, the dress had a small ribbon on the corset, and no bows on the shoulders. I dressed up and was then forced to bare the weight of my actions.
Breakfast was as meager as usual. This time, a light, cold soup. I paid no mind to the taste. I just hurried through the dish like any other, and was soon sent out, not a word from my parents. But it's expected.
My heart jumped when I saw them again. Their makeup was a little off in shade, noticeably darker- Or, noticeable to me. They looked eager to see me as well, and, while I didn't smile, I hoped they saw how I shared the feeling. The guard left, just as the day before, and we were left alone. "Good morning, Four!" They smile even brighter without the looming threat of the guard. I feel a small smile crack onto my face, which seemed to surprise them- But in a good way.
"Good... Good morning, Mr. Cavallet..." I could only hope they didn't hear the fluster in my tone. Two stared at me for a long moment, making me have to look away. "... Are you wearing some more makeup today?" I quickly look back to him, beginning to hide the bottom of my face with a curled hand. "Y-Yes. Yes I did. Do you..."I couldn't even finish my sentence, I was so afraid of a negative response.
"I think you look nice! But... I think I liked how you looked a little more beforehand. I think it makes you look a little pale, and I like your natural appearance more!" I frown the moment they say that. "Of course... It was a stupid idea on my end... I apologize..." I begin to wipe my face of the powder and bits of material. It felt particularly awful because I thought my intelligence was my other saving grace, but I suppose now I'm left to... None.
They seemed to notice my look, looking a bit upset- or perhaps just fearful- themselves. "Oh, uh, I'm sorry! I didn't think that would... Here, how about this? I have some cookies you could have!" They quickly pull out some cookies from below themselves, two platters. It seems they had actually planned to share them either way, and my now greedy actions had forced them to show earlier.
Truth be told, they only made me feel worse. I felt akin to a pig now, one of the many monstrous transformations the children in my books had turned to, and I couldn't splurge on them as they might have thought I would to save my figure. They push one of the plates to me, but all I can do is stare. They've already knocked down a cookie by the time they realized I haven't done the same.
"What's wrong? Are you so upset that I didn't appreciate your makeup that you can't even eat?" There was a sarcasm in their tone that only made me feel worse. I quickly shook my head. "Of course not. I'm just not allowed to have anything besides my meals." They turn their head in confusion, the previous... Well, annoyance, now gone. "Why? Are they large meals?"
I turn my head to the side. "I wouldn't say so, but they're the regular meals for a child like me. some soup for the morning, some soup for lunch, and a few potatoes or something similar to fit my needs..." I see them sort of gawk at my body- Not in an appreciative way, which I think I would have preferred, but in a worried fashion. "I don't think that's enough. You look like you could see your ribs from the outside." I hold my stomach, trying to hide myself.
They reach over the table and grab one of the cookies from my dish, putting it to my lips. I salivate at the feeling, but I feel unruly for doing so. “Come on, Foursie! One little bite!” I shake my head, unwilling to betray my parents just yet. “Come on, Foursie!” The nickname begins to make me blush again, “just a little bite! I’m your tutor, aren’t I? You have to listen!”
They were right. So I open my jaw- just a bit- And they pass the cookie through. It wasn’t very much, just baked cookie batter, but it was still so sweet to me. My eyes opened wide as I slowly chewed and savored the cookie. I didn’t notice it until after I was done, but their hand was still on my face. I looked down at it, a little surprised. They also start to glow red, seeable even through their makeup.
”S-Sorry! Let me just-“ They remove their hand, which… Mildly upsets me. Before they can completely put it to the side, I grab their hand. Breaking my vow. “No, uh- I’d like it if… We touched. At least a little.” I stare at our hands together, my face contorting a bit as I also contort my fingers to lock with theirs. I only see their face when I finish, and they look… Happy? Shocked? I only know now how giddy they were, but at that point, I was scared.
”Sorry, Mr. Cavallet, I can-“ “No, It’s okay, I don’t want to stop…” And that was that. For 2 and a half minutes, we remained like that. Seated. And holding each other’s hands.
And eventually, it was over. I moved away first. They quickly looked at their hand, trying to wipe the sweat they made while holding my hand awkwardly, a little worried that it would have bothered me. But it didn’t. They dry it off and re-lather the makeup onto it, though I’d much rather they didn’t. They were such a pristine color of green, after all.
They pull out, not the textbook as I expected, but a timecard. “Hmm. I have 24 minutes left with you- heh, that’s us, innit- and we’re already far ahead of schedule, so…” They pull out a few slips of multiplication and division, passing it and a feather to me. “We can just… Talk! While you do those, of course-“ Their words come to a halt, however, when they see me so invested in the paper.
I finish the papers quickly. 16 questions on each side, 4 papers, so that’s 128 questions, of which I finish in less than 2 minutes. It’s done even easier that most of them are only of single digits being performed with other single digits. The only thing that really slowed me down was having to constantly re-dip my feather into the ink. When I finally look up, I see Two, surprised. I seem to be doing that a lot. I think it’s a good thing, I hope.
”W-Wow, that was fast! How did you…” Noticing how they finished their sentence, and since I didn’t know how to answer it anyways, I decide to move on. “Could we start on the next topic now?” They blink. They look down at their lap, where I assume the textbook is. “I mean, we could, but don’t you want to… Just, sit and talk?” They wear a weak, but hopeful smile. I consider it for a moment. I do suppose that if it’s what they want to do, it’s what I must.
Besides, they were kind enough to share such sugary delights, such as the cookies, so… I decide to simply remain still. “Alright. We may talk. I warn you, however, I’m not really… Versed in such activities, besides the minor greetings and basic literacy…” They get a sad look. “… I almost forget how sad you are…” I raise a brow. Sad? I wouldn’t have considered myself sad before, unless I had done something, but I haven’t done anything shameful- except…
Were the cookies a trap? I begin to push them back to them, hoping to somehow clean my record, but they just push them back. “What are you doing? They’re yours, Foursie!” I shake my head. “No, I… I musn’t be greedy…” “You wouldn’t be greedy!” I stay quiet for a short time. They sigh. “Oh Four…” They think of a way to convince me to eat. “It would simply break my heart if you don’t accept my gift…”
I feel my soul leave my body. I don’t know why, but Two was the last person I would want to make upset, before even my parents. This is still true, even now. I quickly dash my hands toward the dish and take another satisfactory bite of the biscuit, absolutely delectable. I think myself to be near crazy for attempting to pass up the luxury. I look back at Two, whose face is now a snide smile, having tricked me into eating again. They take a bite of their own cookies.
”Anyways, it’s okay if you don’t have much practice! This can be your practice! Think of me as a tutor of all trades..” They get a egofull grin, but I laugh anyways. It was a bad joke, but the sincerity behind it made it so… Sweet. “So! Hm. What do you like to do for fun?” They lean on the table, head in hands. I think hard on the subject. “… Math. You could probably tell, but… I found this to be very enjoyable to do.”
They nod. They move back an inch, head still perched. “Wait, but weren’t you not allowed to be doing Math for a long time?” I look away, nodding subtly. They get a small, worried look. “… So what else do you like to do?” They ask, hoping that there would be more. “… I don’t really… have time to do things I would enjoy. It’s just the same schedule, day in and day out, with no exemption…” I glance back, seeing the look on their face.
”Please don’t tell me I upset you…” Two stays quiet. A strong shame breaches into me, and I begin to slouch in my chair. They stand and walk over to me, sitting me up again and holding me by my arms. “No- No, I’m not upset by what YOU did, it’s- ugh…” I restabalize myself on the chair, but they don’t let go, instead choosing to stand and continue to hold me. “It’s your parents. I don’t think how… Reserved they are about you is right.”
”I mean, you really are just trapped here. And have been. Uneducated and treated like veal, really…” They look into my eyes. I look back at theirs. We both have our sores in us. “And… I don’t think this should continue on. I know you don’t know me very well, and I’ve been lying to you, but… I want to help you. Help you out of here!” I look up in awe. ‘Help? Help how?’ I don’t ask the question aloud, though my mind begs me to.
They look at the time. Less than a minute. They look around, spotting the guard. “I-I have a plan to get you out of here, alright? It will take me a while to get everything I need to save you, so, until then, not a word to anyone-“ The knight comes over, and it’s almost as if Two flips a switch. Their rushed speech and anxious look disappears replaced with the easy-going Two I had met first. I gasp a little when they kiss my hand, the guard just feet away from us.
”I will see you soon, my student.” They give a big smile, presumably at my flushed face. The guard tugs them away by their collar. “Watch it, neutral, teacher or not, you musn’t touch her!” I watch the events unfold in front of me, beginning to sneak the cookies into my mouth, attempting not to crunch too loudly. It doesn’t work, obviously. I can feel the guard look at me, but I guess they held enough pity to not say anything.
”Chill out, big guy! I was just saying goodbye…” The stark contrast in manner of speech to the guard and I makes me giggle a bit. I quickly shut up, not wanting to disrespect the one with a sword, but the guard only sighs. “You like this young fellow, Julien?…” I shrug my shoulders, a bit unsure of what to say. I do answer eventually, though. “Yes, I… I think I do. They’re sweet…” Two sticks their tongue out at the guard, getting another giggle from me.
”Yeah, real sweet, sticking their tongue out at me like that… Get out of here, little neutral! We don’t need you anymore today! Get out!” The guard finally lets go of Two, and they start running faster than a blood hound, yelling “Byeee Fourrrr!” I wave to them, a smile light on my face.
”… That neutral… You… I don’t mean to upset you, little one, but you know you can’t be with them…” My smile disappears. I suppose no good thing lasts. The strange way of putting it runs my sadness away though. “Little one?…” I ask, not intending to get a reply. “Well, I-… I do suppose thou aren’t quite used to such ways of referring…” The knight turns away from me. “… I regret never trying to…” They get silent again. They put a ginger hand on my shoulder, themselves believing the lie of my supposed butterfly skin, but too emotional not to interact.
”Lets return to the castle, little one. I’ll tell your gym instructor that we… Well, I’ll just threaten them.” They have a hearty laugh, which surprises me a little. We begin to make our way back to the castle, the guard continuing to hold me, as if they’re afraid the rotten tutor may ‘attack’ me again. I turn my head towards the edge of the castle grounds, where Two ran off. Wondering if they’ll still come back.