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It was early evening and Lysander had been seated at his desk, reading through Hamlet for the millionth time in his life, when Leigh stepped into his room, smelling strongly of cologne.
”I’m going out for a little while,” He declared.
This caused Lysander to quirk an eyebrow in confusion and he turned to look his elder brother over. Leigh hardly left the house for anything except food and work and Lysander was positive he kept to himself mostly, “Why?”
”Ah, well…” Leigh turned a light pink, “I have a date.”
That really struck Lysander as odd but he smiled, happy for his brother nonetheless.
”Really,” He mused. “Who?”
Leigh chuckled in away that hinted nerves, “I’m surprised she didn’t tell you since you’re such good friends, Rosalya asked me out.”
For a minute, Lysander thought— No. Lysander hoped— that he’d heard him wrong. He turned his gaze downward. After a few minutes of silence, there was no denying that he’d indeed heard Leigh correctly. Rosalya. He had a date with Rosalya.
”Lysander…” Leigh’s gaze was now a questioning one, “You okay?”
”Mm?” Lysander looked up finally, his face was pale and he felt a little sick to his stomach but he smiled despite it. “Yes, I’m fine. You and Rosalya have a good time…”
”Are you sure?” The concern in his voice was evident.
”Positive,” He confirmed. “You should probably go, though. I wouldn’t want to you to be late on my account.”
Leigh glanced at his watch and jolted into action. Leigh gathered up his wallet and keys and then made a break for the door but not before popping his head back in Lysander’s room.
”Thank you, Lysander.” He said with a smile.
Even despite himself, Lysander returned it and waved goodbye. Then listened for the sound of the apartment door closing. It wasn’t until he heard it that Lysander let out the sigh he didn’t know he’d been holding in. His fist clenched until his knuckles turned white and he drew in a shaky breath. Lysander didn’t want to be sad, he didn’t want to cry, he didn’t even want to think about the truth that was staring him down at that very moment.
Rosalya had not only used him, which was a vicious move in it's own right, but she'd used him to get closer to Leigh. Maybe the crushing defeat wouldn’t hurt as much if the end result hadn’t been his older brother landing the girl he’d coveted for little over a year now. In the end, though— no matter who it had been— Lysander would still feel the same way.
Eventually he couldn’t put it past him, the sorrow and anger bubbled over, violently he pushed back on his desk chair before he made his way to his book case, angrily dumping the contents of it’s shelves onto his bedroom floor. Lysander began picking up each one, reading the dates on the cover until he came across one dated back to a few months ago, then flipped through the pages, stopping ever so often to rip out one. The torn out pages were then crumbled between his fist and tossed aside, one by one, journal by journal until the floor of his room was littered in scrap paper.
When it seemed he’d gone through nearly every one of the journals from this year, Lysander paused to catch his breath and wipe his eyes on the sleeves of his coat. There was one last journal, that held the last homage to his crush on Rosalya, he stood up and grabbed his satchel from the spot where he’d left it. Upon opening it, however, he found that his notebook wasn’t inside it and for the life of him, Lysander couldn’t recall where he’d left it.
Time ticked on and Leigh eventually returned home. Lysander and been lying on his bed, facing the ceiling, the floor around him covered by crumpled up paper. He heard the door to the apartment shut and his brother’s footsteps as he made his way up the stairs before poking his head into Lysander’s room. The silver haired boy sat up and for a fraction of a second saw that Leigh was glowing and Lysander could practically feel the happiness radiating off of him but at the sight of his younger brother’s room, the journals and ink covered paper strewn about. The light faded.
”Lysander…”
”Leigh.”
”Uhm…” Leigh stepped further into the room, toeing a bit of paper out of the way as he did. “Rosalya wanted me to return this for her.”
He held out Lysander’s newest notebook. Lysander took it from him, frowning at it as he did.
”Thanks…” He murmured, “Can you shut the door on your way out?”
Leigh opened his mouth like he wanted to ask a question but then shut it and backed out of the room, shutting the door. Lysander flipped open the cover of his notebook, it was relatively new there was only one poem in it.
Titled; Rosalya.
There was something in the margins of it that had not been there when Lysander had given her the book. In purple ink, scrawled in loopy cursive was a note.
'This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me, Lys-baby.'
He read it once, then twice and then after the third read through, Lysander grabbed the page from the top and tore it, once, twice, three times, before tossing the shreds aside. She’d claim that Lysander never told her about the way he felt if he'd ever confronted her about the situation but in a way he did, though not with actions or spoken words. I always did have trouble being direct, he supposed.