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Carlos De Vil hadn't ever given a thought to love.
Not beyond the sort of love given between a parent and their child. And even then 'that sort' hadn't ever been gifted to him. Rather, it had been felt in absence between the cruel and unjust demands of an equally cruel and unjust mother.
Surely, one would think though, a villain would – and should – have loved their own. Even if only in a particular small and unorthodox-ed sort of way.
In the coming years, marked between the meeting of an actual Prince and a forgotten quest to retrieve a staff - Carlos had once or twice eclipsed the idea of 'that sort'. Maleficent, though just as cruel as his own – arguably, more so – seemed to cater to Mal as a mother more warmly than that of a servant-owner type of affliction. She'd be given gifts – trinkets and lessons to become something akinned to, if not better than, herself. She – against all Carlos had ever known – had not only claimed her role as a mother, but was set to assure that her daughter would come to grow from beneath those very wings.
Such a concept was rare, though easily seen between Evie and Jay respectively as well. Both with parents who had sought and expected more, which might have brought it's own type of ailment that Carlos couldn't ever possibly imagine. Yet at the very core of it all, they had seemed wanted and were given reign to become something beyond them. Whereas Carlos had been coached into thinking himself weaker than. Cruella, after all, hadn't ever thought to give him meaning. So where his friends had sought to aim beyond their Isle – naturally growing in strength as a unit – Carlos had been more of an afterthought. A player in a grander game than he.
If not for his own yearnings to learn and achieve in intellect, would he have had ever made a true name for himself? Moreover, would he have had ever grasped at least a small passing nod to the sort of love beyond that kind if he had been birthed into any other given role?
...
“And do you love him?” Carlos had asked, his feet effortlessly dangling from his spot on the grand poster bed. And though his eyes had been nowhere near her, drawn instead to his newly pristine set of socks, he had felt the shift in attention. Directed, mainly, at his own self.
“It's a spell,” Mal had said flatly. “It isn't real.”
“Still,” Carlos had braved on. “He's kinda nice. Isn't he?”
“You mean weak. Look how easily-”
“I think,” Evie had said – earning Carlo's direct line of sight this time around, “that is, Carlos is just saying that there wouldn't be anything wrong with thinking Ben sweet.”
“Of course there is,” the other had continued, “have the two of you lost your minds? We're here to do a mission, remember?”
They nodded, though only Jay had been resigned in staying quiet .
“Of course,” Evie had nodded.
“Sill,” Carlos had said, “I just – do – has-?”
“Spit it out, Carlos-”
“Have any of you ever felt 'that sort' before?”
“I mean – how does it feel? Love. How does it even happen?”
He had looked to Evie, though the girl had been transfixed at the window – looking off and into the courtyard below them – then to Jay, who had still sat not looking at either of them, but neither purposely away. He simply had been.
“No,” Mal had then said.
This time, Carlos had taken the chance. And had found not a pool of heat as he had expected from the girl, but rather a small and feeble tainted look of something he couldn't quite gauge. Nor had he exactly cared, or felt comfortable enough, to keep with it.
“I couldn't even guess where it would start.”
...
At the end of the coronation – once the excitement had all but fizzled out, Carlos had been fixed to Fairy Godmother's side. Not out of any true comfort over the older woman – but really in harbored wonder at the lizard still nestled in the glass case.
“Is she always going to be a lizard?”
The woman had been taken aback. Surely – Carlos had assumed, she had known that he had been standing there. Then again-
“No, dear,” she had said shortly. Correcting herself only a moment after. “That is, I would hope not. Being as cruel as she may be, no one deserves life in such a state.”
Carlos had moved to argue. His mind easily tracking the years back to such a strained and tenuous life held in exile. A life that they, up until Ben, had been adamant in prisoning them within.
“You said it was her heart,” Carlos had said instead, “she shrunk to the size of her heart-”
“Love,” she had corrected. “To the size of the love in her heart. We all have heart, little one. But love – it isn't always universal.”
“And where does love come from?”
Again, Carlos had caused the woman to pivot in thought. Though unlike the first, it hadn't been out of astonished surprise. No - it had looked more human than that. Unsettling, even.
“Love,” she had tried despite the edging of a more personal question wanting to peek through, “comes from many places. It's the most powerful magic there is. I suppose it stems from wherever the wind comes, or the sea. There, but not always appreciated.”
...
The waters had been clear – it's mystical qualities rooted in the air all about them. Mal had been right in her descriptions of the lake, but lacking in it's physical prowess. A true notion of actual being rather then merely being told.
“Lady Megara once resided here, you know-”
Ben had turned to Carlos in surprise, his eyes set in mirth as Mal had only hummed around his words, tiptoeing the water's edge with small nudgings of a lukewarm smile.
“Most people would say Hercules,” Ben had said, still smiling brightly, “but you're right. She did.”
“You mean he existed?” Evie had asked.
“No,” Mal had said, “don't encourage them.”
Ben had released a laugh then - his barrings carrying him closer to the De Vil boy – who, unlike the others, had preferred to stand on the stones of the pavilion.
“How did you know that?”
Carlos had stared, shortly – at the King's bare legs, his slacks terribly fastened into rolls upon his knees that would surely wrinkle and leave markings.
“I read about it,” he had said. “Greek mythology is interesting-”
“It's all fake,” Mal had voiced, “they're just stories.”
“Aren't we all?” Evie had chuckled.
“I believe she existed,” Ben had then continued, leveling down to sit besides the younger. "My mother does too. She use to tell me how this was once part of a great courtyard. And that Megara had pronounced her very love to Hercules here – with the Gods as her witness.”
“And what great came of that,” Mal had teased, “nearly taken in by Hades.”
“She was saved,” Evie had said.
“Love,” Ben had then nodded, “is a very powerful thing. It defeated the Titans, after all. Without it, Hades would have won."
“Is there no end to this lesson?” Mal had asked, her hands picking for a loose stone that she had then hurled at Carlos. “Get in. You were the one who wanted to come here.”
“Not to get wet,” he had defended. “Besides – I can't swim-”
“None of us can,” she had said, “except for Apollo over here-”
“Is that a jest at my sunny disposition?” Ben had asked.
“Rather your fondness for singing, my Lord,” Mal had smirked. “Now fetch me the royal pooch.”
“Come on,” Ben had offered, a hand readily leveled to pull Carlos up and onto his feet. “Just stay by my side. I won't let anything happen to you, Carlos.”
...
“Do you love him?”
Carlos had perked at the question, but had remained on his stomach – his hand still fidgeting against Dude's face. Earning, in turn, small squeals of agitated delight.
“I don't know.”
He had wanted to turn over – to read the state of emotions being presented between the words, but hadn't due to the fear of dislodging comfort. Perhaps, after all, the girls had figured him too pressed to give attention to their conversation at hand – in turn, causing them to overlook him being there at all.
“Mal – it's been a year.”
“I know,” she had said, “but... – you and Doug? Do you love him?”
“I believe I do,” Evie had said.
“And have you told him?”
“Once everyday," she had nodded, "Like Ben, he said it first. And I've come along to say it too.”
“Because he said it?” She had asked.
“Because I feel it. If you feel it, you say it.”
“But I don't know what it's supposed to feel like-”
Jay entering the room had caused Dude to halt, his barks coming in recognition to the tall brunette who had halfheartedly kicked at his feet.
“What's going on, ladies? And Carlos-”
“Not much,” the girls had mused, setting apart against the continuous tirade. And Carlos, sensing the small moment over, had promptly sat up himself.
“What's in the bag?” He had asked.
“Wouldn't you like to know,” Jay had said with a smirk - forgoing a moment of pause before deciding to vanquish the suspense entirely.
"More?" Carlo had asked once the treasures had been littered on the duvet.
"What can I say? Old habits die hard."
"Isn't this Ben's?" Evie had then chuckled - causing Mal to roll her eyes, "from his lapel? You stole his pin, Jay?"
"He won't miss one," he had said, "sides' it might be real gold-"
"It isn't," Evie and Carlos had laughed.
"Whatever," he had then defended. "It was easy enough to get-"
"But this," Evie had continued, picking at a silver locket, "is so my taste." She had clasped the chain easily, the emblem of ivory laying cool against her half-concealed breasts, "how much?"
"It's yours," Jay had said. "And feel free to pick something for yourselves - before I look for buyers-"
"How good of you," Mal had snided, eyeing the loot with a fair eye, "but I'm good."
"Really-?"
Her looking had then teased into a perplexed smile - with the faint lines of her face broadening as her nose had given into a small fidget, "I already pocketed what I wanted."
"Of course you did," Jay had then laughed, his eyes brimming to turn and regard Carlos - who had still held Ben's small gold pin with a navy satin trimming.
"Can I have this?" He had asked.
"It's a waste of a choice, but alright."
...
“Signing up for Robotics?”
“Uh, yeah,” Carlos had nodded, the flier heavy within his hand as he had abruptly turned.
He had tried to play it coy, but the damage had already been done. The page having had been torn from the corners of the bulletin board. “I – I didn't see you-” he had then continued, motioning to the torn sheet with an awkwardly placed grimace.
“Yeah,” Ben had chuckled, “guess I should have said 'hello' first, sorry.”
“It's okay.”
He had then turned back to the board, trying - unsuccessfully - to place the sheet back into it's proper place.
“Here,” Ben had said, taking a pin from a separate flier, “I'm sure that'll hold okay with just three,” and had placed it centered on the sheet.
“So I'm guessing no Tourney then?” He had then asked once the flier had been successfully pinned.
“Not this year," Carlos had said, "I mean, it was fun – but...”
“No need to explain. If Robotics is your thing then go for it. I'm just glad you're joining something. Mal refuses to. Still.”
“You won't change her mind."
“Probably right.”
“I'm surprised,” Carlos had then continued, his attention now entirely on the other. And mind persuading him to keep steady, and continue in talking. “Why are you here? I thought you quitting Tourney meant you couldn't afford to do extracurriculars anymore.”
“Oh, I can't," Ben had said, "sadly. I'm just getting some documents from Fairy Godmother-”
“Big King business?”
“More apprentice business. It's really a title than a working thing right now. I don't know. It's just the way things are. Dad's still head honcho no matter what the crown says. Until – well, until his time.”
“His time?” Carlos had asked.
“Yeah," Ben mused, "you know, death?”
“Oh, right. That makes sense...”
“Do you not think of - ?”
“Death?” He had repeated. “No. Not as much. Not that it was a lot. But – well, death could easily happen on the Isle on the daily. Here - not so much.”
“Did people often target her?” Ben had asked.
"Her who-?"
"Your mother."
“Oh, her,” Carlos had answered. “Um, no - it was usually me – she... Huh, I guess I never considered that she could die.”
“I'm sorry,” Ben had then said, “I didn't," he paused, "this is not at all how I pictured this conversation going.”
“Oh."
“Yeah – um, forget it. Sorry. So – Robotics, yeah? That sounds really neat.”
...
“Are you sad about your mother, Mal?”
“My mother?" Mal had asked, her head lolling over. Most predominately to make contact with the boy currently sitting on the carpet before her. "Why – where did she go? Did something happen-?”
“No,” Carlos had quickly assured, “she's a lizard still. Just – does that make you sad? Her being a lizard, and all."
“Oh,” she had said, returning to her work, “I guess.”
Carlos had nodded then, his eyes focusing in upon the doodle that she had been working on. In the binds of her Remedial Good textbook, no less. “...and what if she was to – you know?”
“'You know' what?”
“Die,” he had said in a breathe of a whisper.
“Oh,” she had said once more, “well – she's bound to one day. All parents do. Everyone actually. So – I don't know. I guess I never thought about it.”
“Why are you asking?”
Carlos shrugged. “Ben said he won't ever really be king until Adam dies."
“That's true.”
“But when he said it. It was almost sad. He wants to be king – but he'll be sad when he dies, won't he?”
“I guess,” she had nodded.
“But...would you be? Sad?," he had asked, "If my mom were to die - I don't know what I'd feel, but I don't think I would be sad.”
Mal had closed her book then, and had sat up from her spot on the lounge chair. “Is that what this is about?” She had asked. "It's okay, if that's whats bothering you.”
“I wouldn't say bothering. More curious.”
She had nodded. “Ben had a different life, Carlos. Not like we did. His dad was – well, a dad. And he loved him, and raised him-”
“Like your mom?” Carlos had asked.
“No,” she had said, “not like her. Ben was raised for good – in kindness. By both his parents. We were only taught to be villains. For their own benefits.” She paused. “I may not know a lot about...-"
"'That sort'?"
"Yeah," she had nodded, "but I'm pretty sure we weren't given any by them.”
"...my mom never gave me a thing," Carlos had finished.
...
“I don't love him.”
Jay had been the first to break, his feet caring him over to Mal who had stood braced against the door - her forehead pounding fiercely into the oriental wood.
“Hey – hey, calm down. What's wrong, Mal?”
The girl had stared at him upon being forced to settle, the tears harsh and falling without effort or rebuttal.
“I don't,” she had simply repeated.
So Jay, not knowing what else to do, had pulled her in close. Burying her into his chest as Evie had finally made to raise.
“Mal,” she had soothed, “please don't cry. What's wrong? Did Ben do something to you-?”
“If he did anything, I swear to the Gods that-”
“It's not him, Jay!” Mal had said in earnest, freeing herself from his arms. “It's me. He's – he's perfect. And I'm – not!”
“Mal,” Evie had said, “do not belittle yourself-”
“I'm not,” she had said, “honest. I just don't feel anything for him. Not like I should. I know that at the very least. And all I'm doing is prolonging-” She had stopped once her eyes had met Carlos's own. The tears still fresh and apparent. And really – she had looked a complete mess. And Carlos had't ever seen such a broken and pure honest look of what surely constituted as a broken heart.
She hadn't loved Ben. And yet her heart had yearned the same in a terrible and unjust sort of despair.
“I don't,” she had then said to him. “I should. But I don't. And it's terribly unfair-”
The sob that had released upon the last syllable had broken whatever spell had rooted within him. His own heart thrumming against an awful ache that had awoke every fiber of his being. He had rushed to her, pulling Mal inside himself. Much as Jay had done. Only this time, she hadn't pulled away.
She had hardly said another word until moments far removed from then. Carlos's own words being quaint, but strong enough to sustain her own until she had been ready.
"It's okay. You'll be okay."
...
Slowly, things had begun to settle into a more neutral - natural - routine, same as before. Ben - at first keeping to himself, had broken one day, and had asked to sit with them at lunch. And they had all turned to Mal, questions unasked but verbal enough for the girl to gift a smile.
The breakup had been rough, after all. And all involved had felt the consequences of it. Carlos, going as far, to become aware of Ben's absence and feeling it tremendously. Though he hadn't felt inclined to share that particular feeling. To others, nor himself.
"Yeah," Mal had simply nodded. And for a time, it had felt as if things could be just that - simple. Even if Carlos had continued to feel to the contrary.
...
By Summer, the lake had been a blessing - with any such lingering fears long forgotten, and Carlos accustomed to the waters. A natural, Ben had deemed him. And a natural, he had felt.
And on a particular afternoon - the heat turning in strife, making the lot feel ever the more daring, they had taken to the cliffs. Though, of course, Jay had upped the ante, taking them into newer heights than before.
"Your majesty," he had teased Ben - who had only grinned in competitive nature against the brunette. Though the detection of doubt had still been there - not entirely fearful, but not quite embracive either.
"No-no," he had said, gesturing in a Kingly manner, "after you-"
"No, I insist-"
"No-"
"Oh, move over-!" Mal had hollered, shoving past Carlos and the two others. "Ladies first-"
The girl had bounded to the pool in an instant then, the air taking weight of her hair as her scream had echoed on after her. Cheers, coming in second - Jay following in third - and Evie on his heels.
Carlos had hovered for a moment, watching the blue-haired girl as she had vanished beneath the surface of the lake below him.
"You don't have to-" Ben had then tried. His eyes catching with a sweet mocking smile.
"No, I don't," Carlos had affirmed, "but I want to."
"Alright," the other had then said, leveling his hand outward. "Together then. Come on. I promise I won't let go." He paused. "Actually, promise me that you won't let go. I think my legs are about to turn to jelly-"
...
"Do you love him?"
Carlos had frowned, the ends of his brows pressing together in deeply rooted concentration. In his hands, the cool metal had started to feel of lead. Heavy - deathly... - "what?"
"You heard me," Mal had said besides him, her bare creamy legs crossed beneath her - and hair pulled up into a messy bun. He had asked her to assist him with his next assignment, needing steady hands that only an Isler could offer. And though Jay and Evie had held those capabilities in themselves, he had come to her. First and foremost.
Carlos had placed the cylinders aside, the noise momentous in the newly fixed silence that had dawned around them.
"Do I - love - who?" He had then asked.
The girl had pursed her lips, not daring to look away - but slightly off put the same. Though she had continued on. Perhaps even against her own better judgement. "Ben." Then - "I see the way you look at him. Not always - don't worry. But this look just passes over you sometimes. Sorta like-"
"Doug?"
"No," she had said, "more like Jay - over Lonnie. Doug is always fawning, but Jay - you - I don't know. It's different. Like an eclipse. Not always there-"
"Not always appreciated," Carlos had said.
"What?"
"Fairy Godmother once said that love could go unappreciated. Like the wind...or the sea."
Mal had pursed her lips once more - a moral sense of balance wishing to cease further discretion, mainly in wake of her friend and his obvious discomforts over such a subject.
"I don't know," Carlos had then offered himself. His hands returning to the cylinders, but making no true effort in picking them up again. "I've never thought about it."
Then - as if the matter had needed to be settled – Mal had broke passed her balance, and had said, "it's okay. It's okay if you do."
...
The smiles had been well kept after that day. Perhaps they had always been – with Carlos paving thought to under think it all.
In either accord, the smiles had been ordered, arranged in importance, and tucked away into a neat little drawer. One that Carlos had permitted himself to open from time to time, admiring the way in which they had reminded him of something he would never entirely know, or own.
Though - as with anything - the drawer had become harder to shut after each night. And often, a smile would slip out - crossing through the room, scouring the campus, until ultimately finding Carlos. No matter the manner in which he had found himself in. Other times, they had proved not a loose kept smile, but a new one that had needed to be placed into said drawer. Both distracting – and equally damning in line of that which he had been meant to be focusing on.
"Good-boy," Ben had beamed with pride, the blue satin ribbon large and proud - and adorned nicely on Carlos's fine-lined lapel. Coming in 1st had been a great honor, his invention not even in league with those filtered around him. Though the win had still been astonishing the same.
"Not that many your year ever get the Milo Thatch award," Ben had continued, fingers splayed against his chest, "hey..." he then faltered, "- isn't that my pin?"
Carlos had paused shortly - prolonging a small chuckle as his mind had sought for a moment of thought - "yeah," he had said, feigning abashed as he had looked to where Ben's finger had strayed, "I found it. I know I should have given it back-"
"No-no," Ben had said, "it's fine. It suits you. It suits your suit."
"Thanks-"
"No problem."
Ben's hand had curled, adjusting the ribbon before slowly coming to his side - grazing the dip in his hip as he had gone.
"So how should we celebrate? We can go anywhere you like. My treat."
...
"I think I love him," Carlos had said a handful of weeks later.
They had been by the lake again - this time, sun-bathing - the heat nowhere near as harsh as that previous afternoon, but light and comforting. And both Evie and Mal had stirred, though they knew his focus had been elsewhere entirely.
"What changed?" Mal had asked as she had sat up to adjust the straps of her top.
"I don't know," he had said in earnest, "me? It's probably me. I just feel...miserable? My stomach hurts, and I know it's Ben's fault." He had sighed - with his hand grasping against the skin of his bare torso. "But it's not. Not really.”
"Yeah," Evie had smiled, "that sounds about right."
It had went unsaid that Carlos had known that she had already known about his predicament. It had always just been the way of things. To have had shared one thing with Mal, meant sharing it with Evie. And vice versa.
"So what happens from here?"
The girls had looked to each other. Then- "that depends on you," they had said in unison.
He groaned. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“What did you expect then?”
“How am I supposed to - ? I don't even...”
“I know,” Mal had said, coming to his side. “I know. But – Carlos, you just said something that I haven't been able to say since ever. You love him – even if only in 'I think'.”
“She's right,” Evie had nodded. "That surely counts for something."
"It's sure a hella lot more than nothing."
“And what if he doesn't like me back?”
“Then you'll know.” Evie had said. “It's better that then to wonder. Even if things don't exactly end in your favor."
...
Once said, Carlos could not undo the ribbon laced about his heart.
The sleek braid devoted and precise - even in spite of it's feral and fretting thrums. A sorrow - and pitiful - pain, really. One that Carlos had wished to understand in every degree imaginable. Now no longer as a factor of mere curiosity, but as a true in depth try at protection over his own heart. Else risking the completion of becoming entirely undone by it.
"Are you alright?"
Carlos had dared to linger. The strength of his courage coursing, but now beginning to seep from within his bones and onto the harsh stones beneath his bare feet.
"Yeah," he had managed.
And Ben - ever the more careful and determined man - had nodded. Calmly and without judgement. His arm reaching out to guide, and properly situate the younger into the pool of water.
How he had been convinced to come - had been yet another grand mystery. But the waters had always calmed his mind. It's power still tranquil and persistent even after all this time. Just as the first mystery in itself, it would seem. Magnificent and pathetic. It's attitudes in contrast to the truth distilled between the years of his life on the Isle. With her. With being without...
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Carlos had smiled. Not in completion, but not misguided either. Shallow. Just as the waters now lapping about his toes.
"Why did you ask me here?"
"Dunno," Ben had honestly shrugged. "You seemed outta sorts - and you said 'yes'."
Simple as that, Carlos had thought. Right, simplicity. A magic powerful enough as to compare to truth and love, right?
"Do you believe in love, Ben?"
"Love?" Ben had replied, the frown quick but lacking in unpleasantness. "Of course. Have you met my family? It's the most-"
"Powerful magic that there is," Carlos had finished. "Yeah, I know. But... Do you believe in it? Can you feel it for yourself?"
"Is this about Mal?"
This time the younger had frowned. The bitterness there, but only minimal. Still... - there. And every bit as vexing as the ribbon tied around him.
"Perhaps," he had said, "or no - not really. It's more about you."
"Ah," Ben had nodded. "Me. My truths. That's always hard, isn't it?"
"I don't mean to intrude-"
"No, you're not. It's just - it's difficult to place into words is all. But I guess, to put it simply - I think love is universal. Everyone is born with it. But only those who are lucky enough are able to gift it. Some are even luckier if they can allow themselves to be given more of it."
"That," Carlos had stalled, "that sounds a bit terrifying. The allowing part-"
"It is," he had nodded, "it's one of the single most frightening things in life. That's why it's so powerful."
The waters had rippled - Carlos daring and treading, his heart racing against familiarity. Because Ben had been close - his hand had placed itself in the nape of his back like the time of his award ceremony. Only now it had been less in congratulatory spectacle - with Carlos no longer hiding in a sort of satisfactory high.
"Why so interested in love anyway, Carlos?"
The younger had feared that question. But it had been expected. It seemed every time he had asked, the question would naturally arise. Not always spoken, but there in the other's eyes. Just as Fairy Godmother. Just as Mal...
"I've never given thought to it before," he had relented. His mind being placed into words - and his words being placed by the truth. "Not to 'that sort'... Not beyond that given between a parent and their child. But... I never had that either. Cruella..."
Was cruel...
Unjust.
She forgot to give him meaning...
She forgot to love him...
"I could imagine," Ben had offered - the pause too deafening for him to simply stare and wonder if Carlos would be able to gather the strength to continue.
But- "You can't," the other had managed, "you can't imagine. Surely, Ben, you would think a villain would – and should – love their own. Even if only in a small and unorthodox-ed sort of way, but... She hadn't."
The tears hadn't been prepared - the speech neither, but once faced with the notion of opening himself up to Ben. Things had simply spilled. The truth had simply followed one after the other.
And Ben - Ben, ever the golden child in a dark and restless world - had brought that hand situated on his back, and had turned Carlos about. Direct, chest to chest - with eyes brimming close to tears himself.
"You didn't deserve that," he had tried, "and yes, you're right. I'll never know how any of that could possibly feel, but..."
His hand had coiled, leveling up a freckled arm until resting against his collarbone. Just as marked - and littered in light bruisings from the trials and errors of his past.
"You're not incapable of having love, Carlos," he had said," Mal, and the others-"
"It's not 'that sort' that I want anymore."
Those words had stilled Ben. Whose hand had still pressed into his naked skin. Fairer and light, and purer than any other hand that had ever laid to rest there.
"Well, what sort do you want?" Ben had asked, voice hesitating and withdrawing into a low and trembling whisper.
"...you know which one."
Carlos had dared to step further. The water now lapping at the edges of his shorts. If Ben had been provoked by the closeness, he hadn't shied away from it. Straying only in mind, as his eyes had begun to fester and burn. The cogs and wheels turning within the dark recesses of emerald green.
"Why are you telling me this?" He had then asked.
"Because," Carlos had answered, "I thought you should know.... - because I want you to know."
"Because you want me to know," he had repeated. Still slow and low-sounding. As if speaking clearer would break that sort of innocent existence that had fallen between them. Though, even he had to know, that that very innocence had been rather inappropriate, and not anywhere close to the gravity of their situation.
Ben had taken the next step.
His hand still shyly situated, but now gliding upwards - and knocking against his Adam's apple, stopping only once it had grazed against the early signs of a sharp and chiseled jawline.
Not that he had watched - rather, both boys had slipped their eyes shut - the feeling more than enough to root them together. Meeting, at last, with only a single tear interlocking between their faces. One that had surely stemmed from Carlos's own, but had managed to mingle onto Ben's loose and finely-groomed lashes.
"I think I love you, too..."
...
Oh, to see without my eyes,
The first time that you kissed me.
Boundless by the time I cried,
I built your walls around me...
Oh, oh woe-oh-woah is me,
The first time that you touched me.
Oh, will wonders ever cease?
Blessed be the mystery of love.