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It was cold the night Alador and Odalia wed.
Darius thought that was fitting. Odalia had never liked warm weather, she would complain about the scorching sun during their formative Summers, how she hated sweating. Alador had never minded the sweating, but he had always grimaced at the brightness, wearing his goggles outside to shield his eyes. Darius never understood their gripes, he revelled in the sun’s rays, always wishing to soak up as much as he could before it ended.
After shivering in the open air ceremony for far longer than necessary, Darius found himself scanning the lavish ballroom the party had moved to. He had to admire the impeccable fashion taste of their guests, all adorned in jewels, all trying and failing to upstage the bride. From what Darius could see from the corner he had settled in, they all had an air of self-righteousness about them, their noses upturned, their lips curled as if judging whoever they were talking to.
Which meant Odalia was in her element. She floated through the groups of guests, with ease, leaving them subsequently charmed by the time she was swept away. Darius couldn’t deny she looked beautiful. Her dress was sinched, her hair pulled tightly as if it was scared to move out of place, her makeup was sharp and bold as she was often found to be. He watched her work and couldn’t help but think that she suited this lifestyle; she was born to sit on top of it all.
The same couldn’t be said about her new husband who stood amongst a crowd of the most notable names in abomination technology. They all ogled at him, each jumping to ask him questions, picking his brain. He flinched at every word spoken to him and cringed when he found their words distasteful. Darius couldn’t help but smile as he watched his expression convey a mixture of confusion and disgust. He never had been able to hide his true thoughts like Odalia could.
She swooped in next to him, saving him or rather herself from the embarrassment. From an outsider's perspective, they were an odd-looking couple. While Odalia looked practically sewn into her dress, Alador looked unfinished. His suit was gorgeous, his hair was done impeccably and the jewels that brandished his neck spoke for themselves. Still, it looked like a costume, like a triangle being shoved into a circular cut out of a children’s game. Darius wasn’t sure if anyone else noticed how Alador’s hands fidgeted by this sides, how he reached to brush a hand through his hair before stopping abruptly, the habit trained out of him for the evening.
Odalia let out a piercing laugh over the howls of the guests, raising her champagne to a particular guest, seemingly the one that had made her shriek like that. She placed her free hand on her husband's shoulder, whispering something in his ear. He cracked a smile and at that she kissed him on the cheek. These intimate moments dismantled their opposite aesthetics. They showcased their bond and compatibility marvellously. Darius had grown up around it. Where Alador struggled Odalia thrived. Conversing and showboating enough for the both of them. Yet, she still reassured him, gifted him those private moments, those secret whispers. This relaxed Alador, he leant into her touch as she took over the conversation. They didn’t seem so odd once you had seen them like that.
That was Darius' cue. He gulped down his last remaining champagne, discarding the empty glass to a passing abomination waiter. He weaved his way through the crowds, ignoring those who called out to him, waving them off with the best cordial smile he could muster. He slipped out of the grand doors leading to the large, marble terrace that adorned the entrance. There was a garden surrounding the gorgeous venue, the path from the gates a long trip back. Darius looked at it stretched before him and cursed himself for wearing the most beautiful but impractical pair of shoes on the boiling isles. He breathed in a gulp of cool air and sighed as he took the first step.
“You know, it’s rude to leave a party without saying goodbye.”
Darius stopped in his tracks at the voice. He let out a breath through his nose, resigning himself “Rich coming from you,” he turned.
Alador was stood in front of the doors, his hands in his suit packets, his posture returned to his usual slouch. He smirked “You always berated me when I wouldn’t.”
“And yet I always covered for you while you snuck out,” Darius shot back with a weakened version of his smile.
Alador nodded agreeingly as he meandered to where Darius stood “Hypocrite.”
“Really you should be distracting your guests so I can leave unnoticed,” Darius continued “and your wife.”
Alador shook his head “She is plenty entertaining, I doubt anyone noticed either of us leaving.”
“Hmm,” is all Darius could think to reply.
A moment of silence passed between the two and just as Darius was about to make a move to leave Alador asked “Why are you leaving?”
Darius squinted at him “Who says I’m leaving?”
“Circumstance?”
Darius persisted “I could be getting air.”
Alador snorted “You, outside in this weather for any reason other than leaving? That’s impossible.”
He relented was a small smile “True.”
Another beat of silence passed while the whistle of the wind spoke for them.
“So?” Alador began “You’re leaving because?”
Darius shrugged “Not really my crowd.”
“When have you ever be known to leave a party first?” Alador further pestered.
“What do you want me to say Alador?” Darius asked, raising his eyebrow “I’m cold, that ballroom is full of people asking me annoying questions, I have to get up early tomorrow and frankly I’ve already had enough sparkling champagne for the bride and the groom.”
Alador pressed his lips together, looking at Darius for a prolonged period with his disbelieving gaze. It wasn’t the first time Darius had been subjected to it, typically in his school days he would’ve stuck out his tongue or winked. Now, he all he managed to do was give him a tired expression back.
Alador stepped back. His hands crawling further into his pockets “Well, thanks for coming anyway.”
Darius wanted to grimace “Of course.”
Alador began to slowly retreat, looking somewhat defeated. Darius could see the cogs in his brain moving, examining the situation as he scanned Darius. He felt like one of his experiments. Alador hesitated when he reached the doors an acute panic present in his demeanour. Darius sighed, Alador had never liked not knowing answers. Honesty was probably called for; it was his wedding night after all.
“You can relax,” Darius finally said just as Alador had turned to pull the doors open “I’m not in love with you anymore.”
Alador stiffened, he turned back to face Darius painfully slow “P-Pardon?”
Darius blinked at him “I’m not in love with anymore?”
Alador sputtered “You’re what?”
“Titan Al I’m not in love with you anymore,” Darius emphasised “So stop worrying and go and enjoy your wedding.”
“Anymore?!” Alador uncharacteristically exclaimed “I didn’t know you ever were.”
Darius froze, his skin flushing hot despite the biting wind. He examined Alador’s expression, his widened eyes and slacked jaw. Utter disbelief.
Darius couldn’t help it, he laughed.
“What’s funny?” Alador asked, his breath short.
Darius heaved, doubling over “I’m sorry, it’s just-” a cackle “you are meant to be one of the most brilliant minds of the isles-” another rough laugh “And you couldn’t even figure that much out?”
Alador’s face burned red, he stomped forward, bending down to Darius’ level “How was I meant to know?”
Darius wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes “Oh Alador I was as obvious as Odalia.”
Alador sustained his shellshocked look “You were?”
“We had the exact same flirting methods,” Darius continued “We both bullied you relentlessly.”
Alador sucked in a breath, his eyes shaking as they did when he was figuring something out “I suppose you did.”
“For a lot of our schooling days we were in competition her and I,” Darius laughed “Our rivalry had to spring from somewhere.”
“I thought it was about grades,” Alador replied meekly.
“Somewhat,” Darius shrugged “I gave in before she did anyway. One of us had to move on.”
Alador didn’t reply, just stared.
Darius furrowed his brows “You really didn’t know?”
Alador shook his head, a strand of his styled hair falling over his face.
“Huh,” Darius straightened his posture, his voice quieter “I always assumed you knew.”
Something bitter replaced the laughter in his stomach, something that crawled up his throat, seeped down his legs and stung at his eyes.
“You knew,” Darius found himself repeating, unsure of who he was trying to convince.
“I didn’t,” Alador answered instantly, earnestly.
Darius didn’t have any more to say after that. Alador’s hands fidgeted at his sides, curling and flexing as he took in the information. The bitterness still swirled in Darius’ stomach, he contemplated turning and sprinting down the long pathway. He looked away from Alador, staring at the garden from the corner of his eye.
“I-” Alador’s voice cracked slightly as he spoke, he cleared his throat awkwardly “I wish you told me.”
Darius frowned “Why?”
After a beat of silence Darius looked to Alador to find him staring back. Darius’ breath ceased at the intensity of the gaze. Gone were his nonchalant, tired eyes, replaced instead by a fire in his irises, a melancholy look that sent daggers into Darius’ heart. They were reminiscent, almost regretful. They didn’t say I love you, but they didn’t say I never did.
In those eyes he saw the eyes of the sixteen-year-old Alador he had fought Odalia over.
In those eyes, he realised he had given up too soon.
He released a choked-out breath, stepping back from their close proximity, “You should go... your wife is probably looking for you.”
“Yeah,” Alador breathed out.
Darius reached across the space, delicately brushing the stray hair back into its style before averting his gaze. He couldn’t bear to look, “Congratulations, Alador.”
“...Thank you, Darius.”
He didn’t watch Alador go, but he heard him sigh as he did so. He didn’t see him pause as he walked back to the door, but he heard his footsteps stall. He didn’t allow himself to see if he looked back but he liked to imagine he did.
Darius began his descent down the pathway. He remained composed, his chin held high and his posture sublime, not daring to shiver at the cold.
He assumed he was about halfway down the path when the tears began to streak, and his shoulders began to shake as the music of the ball grew fainter and fainter and subsequently so did the Alador he knew.