Work Text:
The memory of the kiss replays within Hunter’s mind, and the blonde boy clenches the linen fabric of the bedsheets and screams into his pillow, an attempt to seal the wretched deed away. It's of no use; Hunter cannot escape the scent of ripe peaches clinging onto his lips nor the phantom touch of a honey-eyed boy who makes him feel sugary high. Edric has stained him, no, Hunter has stained himself, and it’s agony to be unable to wash it away.
And at that, shards of glass form in his fractured bone, trying to dig through skin. A few pieces sit on his eyelids, casting tiny rainbows before his pupils, shadowed by the dark. In this midnight altar belonging to a man who is somehow still with him, Hunter knows there is no room left for avoiding, so he holds on dear life, clutching the edge of his heart as if to protect it from himself.
It’s not long before Hunter falls asleep, surrendering to exhaustion. The abyss is an old friend at that moment, something familiar in the labyrinths carved into his untamed heart. Like the last remnants of a failed star unable to emit its hues, it’s consumed him, and it will again.
A thousand tiny wounds blossom from within, leaving no scars.
-
Silverware clink against glasses and plates like tiny bells in unorganized choirs while Luz interrogates him for details about Edric during breakfast. Somehow she knows, and Eda and Luz share the same smile when he gives little snippets of details, avoiding the topic of the kiss just to keep the two hanging on the edge with questions. A cliffhanger, Luz had called it, dramatically throwing her hands out of dissatisfaction with Hunter’s answers.
He smiles, he laughs, but fear rakes his stomach the very same. This is different from the infinite hollow hallways adorned with dusty paintings from the castle, different from the short stumbling conversations testing the waters of mishaps and mistakes.
Hunter still stumbles, he trips, he loses, he fails but he doesn’t fall. So paranoia roots itself into his chest, creating burrows for it to nestle in, and Hunter braces himself for when he finally does drop from the heights.
Suddenly Hooty screeches and the door slams open, revealing Amity Blight and Edric. Hunter can’t decipher whether or not this is a good or bad thing.
“Hunter!”, Edric grins.
“Hi”, Hunter mumbles weakly, kicking Luz while she giggles as if she had a right to poke fun at him while holding hands with Amity. He tries his best to nonchalantly tidy up his hair, golden curls refusing to fall into gravity’s grasp.
Edric runs towards him and clasps his hands around Hunter’s. Slowly, Hunter kneads his fingers so they meet Edric’s knuckles as if he’s weaving with strands of sunlight gathered by the edge of dawn and not awkwardly holding the hands of a boy who’s torn his heart apart.
“How are you Hunter?”, Edric asks, beaming. Hun-ter. Two small syllables, yet they’re magnified when Edric says them, like copper pennies glimmering in fountains.
“I’m good”, he mutters. The room is warm and Hunter feels lightheaded, the faces of those around him spinning until he can no longer make out their expressions, sharp eyes and angles turned into one blur of abstract shapes.
“I was thinking we could go out today”, Edric continues, highly oblivious as usual. “If you’re up for it, of course”.
“Yes!”, Hunter yelps, grimacing at how he spoke a little too loudly. “Just give me a second to fix my hair”. He releases Edric’s hands as if they’re butterflies with torn wings preparing for flight.
Edric’s grin widens, grabbing Hunter’s hand. “Here, let me do it”.
Hunter’s breath hitches when Edric’s fingers comb his hair, blonde strands falling back to their intended place. Every nerve in his body is suddenly electrified, veins and arteries turned into wires and circuits, and so is every flush of air against his cheeks and- HOLY SHIT is Amity-fucking-Blight smirking at him? Or glaring? He can’t tell.
Hunter stumbles away, sputtering nonsense, and Edric’s chuckling in the way that makes the sun sing its blessings, and well, the Titan may as well petrify him right then and there.
“Soooooooo Hunter”, Amity says. By her side, Luz giggles and Hunter thinks he might faint out of embarrassment, wondering what fate will come to him after the two’s slightly not pleasant interaction over a certain key.
“Welp! Sorry, we couldn’t talk more, but Edric and I have to go now. Byeeeeee!”, he yells, dragging the mermaid-haired boy outside, ignoring Hooty’s indignant cries as he harshly shuts the door.
-
Hunter’ calmed a little as he and Edric stroll through Bonesborough. Their thighs and hands brush against each other, but Hunter can only take so much for an hour, so he doesn’t dare unravel his clenched fingers, knitted tightly against his palm.
“So where are we going?”, he asks, breaking the silence.
Edric blushes, the tips of the illusionist’s elfish ears turning pink. It’s always comforting to know that he’s not the only one whose heart is thrashing wildly as they speak, their sentences leaving trails of moondust for the other to follow in the mist.
“We’re almost there”, Edric hums, golden eyes mirrored by the looming sun, spilling tiny flecks of syrupy yellow upon his cheeks.
It sort of hurts to realize how much Edric doesn’t know. There’s a soft innocence to him, surely he’s not stuck in loose memories and crawling fears?
No matter what scenario plays out in Hunter’s brain, one where Edric is plagued the same way he is, or one where Edric knows nothing of it, Hunter can feel himself sinking below the swell, watching the sunlight shrink.
-
“Ta-da!”, Edric says, pointing to the library sign. “I was reading a few of the books you’ve talked about before. Although to be honest, I have no idea what’s going on in them. I was thinking you could explain, and check out a few more books”. He pauses, a lopsided smile forming on his face. “And maybe vandalize a few bookshelves?.”
Hunter laughs, and a weight he was unaware of lifts from his body as if his skin and limbs disintegrated into glitter. “I didn’t know you guys had a library here. Thanks for showing me”. Edric beams, face slightly flushed, and Hunter thinks of the way candles look when they are first lit, dim flames dancing in dark rooms, illuminating the faces that surround it.
As they make their way up the cobblestone steps, Hunter takes Edric’s hand.
He prays to the sun that this, hands awkwardly linked, Edric’s clumsy antics, that this will never change.
-
Hunter learns quite a few things in the library; Edric wears glasses, Edric looks cute in glasses, he really missed his old books at home, they have more of the greek mythology human stuff Luz had shared with him here, and that libraries are great.
“No vandalizing the books”, Hunter scolds, and Edric apologetically smiles, sheepishly casting a spell to erase the scribbled dick on the wrinkled page. “Also, how come I’ve never seen you wear glasses before?”.
Edric fidgets, embarrassed. “They make me look dumb”.
Gently, Hunter takes Edric’s glasses, fumbling as he tries to straighten them.
“They look cute”.
“No they don’t”, Edric protests, snatching his glasses away, placing them on Hunter’s face. “Now they look cute”, he declares, and Hunter bats his hand away, giggling. Edric puts his glasses back on.
“You look good with them on. Heck, I bet you’d look good wearing a potato sack”, Hunter says, and he presses his forehead against Edric’s, the two hidden among shelves with worn pages and faded inks and the scent of crushed almonds. Hunter wonders what he looks like in Edric’s eyes, are his eyebrows too furrowed, his forehead wrinkled in nervousness, but he buried those thoughts away, focusing on the humming in his throat and the sparkle in Edric’s eyes, reflected in his glasses.
Their hands interlock and Hunter runs his thumb over callouses and knobs of bone stuck under flesh, heart fluttering inflight like a hummingbird’s wings in motion.
Fate crawls among Hunter’s skin cloyed with sweat, speaking in doubts, in truths, in lies, a language of spiderwebs shimmering with dewdrops. But who knows what that is, and perhaps it’s possible to escape the parts of himself that Hunter dares not to let the fire inside his lungs burn.
Belos isn’t here.
Hunter’s left.
And he doesn’t have to be alone.
The future is nothingness, unlived, made of fractured glass that shatters at the slightest touch, and with Edric’s body pressed against Hunter’s, their lips parted with the taste of a honeyed kiss, tucked into a world of bright lanterns and hushed voices and dusty books neatly ordered, maybe there’s light there too.
He’ll combust one day, and when those flames spread, the world becomes alight, finally scarred. Most will fade, but they’ll never entirely disappear, earth-deep reminders of what has and can heal.
“I guess the glasses aren’t that bad”, Edric mutters, and Hunter leans forward to kiss him again.