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He couldn’t breathe properly. Every breath he let out was short, erratic, painful, dragged down by invisible forces. A bright light flashed- and he was there again, standing in the midst of an empty racecourse. It was completely barren, abandoned, a strong, howling wind clawing at his ears. The mirror in front of him reflected a disgusting monster, his hair dishevelled in an inhuman way, red eyes gleaming with the intent of murder. His skin was pale, ragged clothing ripped at the edges.
Why? Why was he like this?
Another flash. Blood came in contact with his hands, coating the sharp claws like ink. Red spilled onto the floor, enveloping the yellow blades of grass. He blinked, trying to stop himself from buckling. A body was held in his arms, limp, lifeless, crimson flowing out of the multiple wounds adorning his frame.
A memory, One of him digging a piercing blade into the heart of the very person who lay here now. And he couldn’t stop himself. A head turned weakly to look at him, blinking hazily as he reached out a stiff hand. The white hair that was always in a perfect ponytail was coming undone, a few strands sticking to his forehead with the mess of blood.
A face he remembered, a face he loved, filled with tears. Tears he himself had made.
Painstakingly, he forced himself to take a step back, fighting the force that pulled him down. A strangled cry escaped from his throat, and then something was yanking him back, strong forces pressing on his arms.
Darkness. A screaming void engulfed his vision, pulling, strangling every part of his body. Shadows lingered around the corners of his view, threatening to swallow him whole. It felt as if his chest was being compressed, a heavy weight suffocating his heart, until he couldn’t take in any more air, until he couldn’t think anymore, until his sight was filled with nothing but-
Orpheus?” questioned a panicked voice, a comforting hand squeezing his own. “A-are you alright?”
Blinking, Orpheus opened his eyes. He was panting heavily, sheets clinging to his skin. Frederick hovered above him, white locks framing his face, brows furrowed. When he realised Orpheus had woken up, he immediately breathed a sigh of relief. “Did something happen?” he asked softly, tone laced with worry.
Orpheus swallowed, bringing his hands above his face. As expected, they were back to normal, no more blood, no more claws. He shut his eyes, letting out a deep breath. “I am fine,” he responded shakily.
Frederick raised his eyebrows, unconvinced. “You were mumbling something in your sleep.”
Narrowing his eyes, Orpheus huffed, unresponding. Knowing how stubborn he was, Frederick prompted, “Was it a nightmare?”
Nightmare. The word was like a curse, a sickening reminder of his days at the manor. A nightmare, they had called him.
Orpheus shook his head, refusing to talk. Sighing, Frederick sank back down beside him, turning onto his side to run his fingers through the soft brown curls of his hair. They lay in silence, and Frederick watched the steady rise and fall of Orpheus’s chest as he lay on his back, his breathing returning to regularity.
Eventually, Orpheus whispered, “I was back at the manor.”
“What?”
He took in a deep breath. “I dreamt of when we were at the manor.”
Frederick stayed silent. The manor. The place that filled their memories with nothing but endless games, crowding their minds with such agony you could no longer feel it anymore. Frederick opened his mouth, and closed it again, stuck on how to respond.
“I killed you, Frederick.”
Frederick laughed awkwardly. “Well I am here now, aren’t I?”
Turning to his side to face the other, Orpheus placed a hand on his arm, squeezing it, and directed his gaze to look at him. “But I still killed you.”
Frederick glared at him in a way bordering on frustration, and then responded with, “It wasn’t your fault, you know that right?”
“Yes, but I still hurt you, I hurt you Frederick, and I couldn't even stop myself-”
Before he could finish, Frederick had already pulled him into a firm embrace, drawing his face into his chest.
“It’s not your fault, ok?” he murmured, arms wrapping tighter around his back, chin rubbing against the fluff of his hair. “Don’t blame yourself.”
Orpheus could only give a small nod, so swathed in the other’s strong hold that if he tried to talk, it would be muffled by the silk of his nightwear.
“It wasn’t any of our fault,” said Frederick quietly, slotting his chin into the curve of his shoulder.
Orpheus buried himself further, the fabric scratching his face as he hummed in agreement.
Tugging at his hair, Frederick angled his face so that their eyes met again, placing a light kiss on his forehead. “But I’ll make sure you won’t have to go through anything like that ever again.” Looking at him with some mixture of affection and comfort, Orpheus briefly closed his eyes, before letting out a soft sigh.
“You know, sometimes it’s hard distinguishing dreams from reality. Sometimes, I won’t even know whether I am writing or if I am in real life.” He paused, staring at a spot on the mattress, before redirecting his gaze so their eyes met again. “But even if I am a character in fiction, I am glad I got to meet you.”
Frederick gave him a gentle smile, fingertips tracing light hearts on his cheek. Although he had not replied, the look in his eyes said words the most sophisticated orator could.
As if suddenly remembering something, he leapt up. “Orphy, wait here,” he demanded, before jumping off the bed to retrieve it. When he returned, there was a plate in his hands, and Orpheus squinted, stretching upwards to try and see what it was.
Frederick leaned over him to switch on the lamp on their bedside table, before setting down the plate on his lap. Light illuminated the room, and it took him a few seconds before he was used to it and could see Frederick’s features clearly. “Happy Birthday Orpheus,” He placed a quick kiss on his cheek, settling back into the covers next to him. Orpheus stared at him for a second, confused, and then looked to the calendar they kept on their wall. April 2nd. It really was his birthday. It really had been a year since they left the manor. One full year that wasn’t just mindless battles against survivors and hunters. One full year without hearing wretched sounds of a cipher machine, loud and lingering.
Propping himself up with his hands to accept the cake, he was about to thank him when he looked down and realised what Frederick had made . He stilled. Truffle cake. A dish he hadn’t tasted in a long time.
It was only in the very distant depths of his memory that he could recall eating it. Orpheus gazed at it, unspeaking, words unable to form in his mouth. How did Frederick know-? Frederick gave him a small, nervous smile, nudging the fork into his hand.
“Try it,” he urged. “You’re making me worried.”
Realising how rude he probably seemed right now, Orpheus nodded, complying. He scooped out a small piece, and brought it up to his lips. Home. The taste felt so familiar- so much like childhood. Back when he didn’t have anything to regret, when he didn’t know how cruel this world could be. When he and Alice were just children, knowing nothing but laughter and joy. When he didn’t even know of the manor’s existence. A near perfect replica of what he ate when he was little. The only thing missing was the feeling of innocence. The innocence before it was soiled by those haunting days at the manor.
“Is it good?” Frederick asked anxiously, cutting off his thoughts.
He ignored the question. “How did you make this?” he blurted instead.
Frederick blinked. “I mean, I-I, uh I asked Alice what kind of cake you liked, and er, she helped me make it whilst you were at work yesterday.. I don’t know how good it tastes but..”
Orpheus swiftly picked up a piece with his fingers, pressing it against the other’s lips. “Eat.”
Obeying, Frederick opened his mouth, letting him plop the cake into his mouth. He chewed, swallowing, but not tasting anything special. “I don’t know.. What do you think?”
“It tastes..” Orpheus was unable to find a word to describe it, forced to settle on, “...really nice.”
Unconvinced, Frederick looked at him.
“Frederick, it tastes perfect.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? You don’t seem like you enjoyed it, and I was really doubting it yest-”
Lips crashed into his, and he was cut off, breath hitching at the sudden movement. He kissed back, leaning towards the other so close that they plummeted backwards, cushioned by the sink of the soft mattress. They both pulled away in shock as Frederick landed on top of him, before bursting out into laughter.
“Thank you,” Orpheus said when they sobered.
“What for?”
“For the cake. For loving me. For.. everything, I suppose .”
“Oh it- it’s nothing really..” he diverted his face away, before propping his hands on the bed in a move to get up. But, before he could, Orpheus wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him back. “Oh but it is,” he insisted. “You don’t know how much I love you, Frederick.”
Frederick nuzzled his face against his neck. “You don’t know how much I love you either.”
Orpheus let himself shine a satisfied smile. “Hey, what time is it?”
Frederick glanced over at the clock. “It’s only five. We still have plenty of time.”
A hand slipped under his shirt, the other pushing them into a better position whilst fidding with the buttons. Frederick raised an eyebrow, before following his actions, a grin plastered on his face. “Plenty of time.”