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A tear rolled down the cheek.
The clock ticked, raindrops hit the window.
A genuine smile turned sour, eyes no longer fixated.
His hands reached towards, grasping for solid, grasping the imagine not in front of him.
"Who are you?"
Words rang in his head, becoming louder and louder, reminding him of his importance.
Hand clasped around nothingness, nails digging into the flesh of his palm.
A moment to breathe in.
"My apologies."
A moment to breathe out.
Edgar Valden turned away, the imagine still playing in his head.
Of course, who would remember a person like him? How could he remember the days spent under the dimly-lit candles, under big chandeliers, accompanied by muffled voices.
How could he remember the secretive smile, the little touches they shared, the little whispers exchanged between them.
The little present he had passed him, the painting he did in exchange.
How could he remember after so many years?
-
He sat in the corner.
He stared, eyes fixated on one person.
Smiling, laughing, joking, eating, the way he looked at his friends.
Edgar captured those moments, drawings lasted long. It was all he could have.
He watched as he approached him, untying the knots.
He relishes in the moment he had taken his hand to drag him away, the moment when he pushed him in front of him to take a hit.
The touch was electrifying, it still ktched his skin.
It reminded him.
He observed, the moments between he and his friends.
The moment of wrapping an arm around them for a hug, the smiles aimed at, the little touches he gave them.
It was an act of pure love.
Edgar could only watch and relish on the moments, making his heart ache for a yearn.
He was Adonis, a muse for him to feast upon.Eyes fixated on his sketcbook, he draw and draw.
He has drawn the stupid smile, the little fang poking at the bottom of his lips. He has drawn him as a whole, paying attention to every little detail. He had drawn him in action, he memorised every facial expression.
He had drawn the lips, stretching into a smile, how his tongue is propper against his fang in thought. He drew the two freckles on his face, the eyes which shined brightly.
His hand itched to hold his face, caress his cheek, pushing the front hair back from his forehead.
He wished to lay his forehead against his, aa they stared at each others eyes, safely wrapped in entertwined arms.
He relished on one occasion, when he felt his arms arouns him, squeezing him.
He hated how safe it made him feel, how loved.
For the first time, Edgar had felt truly loved.
Was he still in love with him?
Or was it the feeling?
-
It was during one of those matches in which Edgar felt unable to do anything.
The colour of his shirt made it suffocating, the corset wrapped around his waist squeezing him together.
He stared at the canvas, tears staining the blankness.
He doesn't remember how they look like.
He doesn't remember who the hunter is.
He doesn't remember anything, but a stupid smile, those stupid eyes watching in curiosity.
That's when he crashes down, unable to choke back a sob, unable to hide his feelings.
His throat felt full, lungs being squeezed by the rose petals and pricking with their thorns.
That's how love felt.
Love was a beautiful rose, blooming in all its might, prideful and beautiful.Touch it, you get hurt.
The stained rose eventually dies, no longer beautiful or prideful.
It shrinks, making place for a new rose to bloom.
He was falling into an endless abyss when a hand reached out to him, when he felt a reassuring hand on his back, the other on his arm.
Supporting him, as they stumbled out of the gate.
He stayed, whispering soft words to ground him, unbeknownst he made it worse.
That those touches meant too much for Edgar, those touches meant a promise.
A promise neither can fulfill.
-
[5:00]
The manor felt quiet.
Shadows around the corners lurked, holding secrets of years. Tiles were cold, digging into his bare feet as snow melting.
His eyes filled with regret, tears spilling over the edge.
He knocked.
One, two, three.
The door opened.
"Fall in love with me." he whispered, words pleading instead of ordering. His arm stretched out, little sobs escaping.
"Fall in love?"
Edgar closed his eyes when he felt weight on his palm, a force forcing hin to collapse into Luca's embrace.
"Silly, I already am."