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So many thoughts, so many things going on in his head all at once. So much, so loudly to the point it felt like he was numb.
D3rlord3, how have you not succumbed yet?
He paced around in the darkness like a caged animal in distress. His poor mind was a whirlpool of hundreds of millions of pieces of knowledge, all resounding and chiming all at once with no fail to stop, not even once. Poor man of mortal flesh, carrying with the burden of knowledge no human being should possess. All the while, The King in Yellow observed him, looking down upon his ever-moving silhouette. His obscured face beneath the veil he wore so proudly served no comfort to the weary knight.
But even as he watched the scene unfold, he simply could not stop thinking about the strange feelings rising in his chest. It was a feeling so long forgotten to the point it felt as if it was completely brand new. The alien sensations he felt, the profound void hiding in his ribcage at the sight. It wasn't until D3rlord3 let out a guttural, painful scream that he realized what this feeling was.
Guilt. Regret. Compassion.
The gladiator fell on his knees, gripping his head as he broke down utterly and completely, tears cascading beneath the helmet he wore, body curling into itself as he tried to fight away the now perpetual headaches he suffered.
The King bared witness to this, all of it.
Silence let itself between them, only really broken by the sounds of D3rlord3's broken sniffling. The King finally decided to approach his writhing body, leaning down to level with him, as otherwise his immense height would have only worsened his state. "Won't you look at yourself... squirming like a dying insect." He said, coming out harsher than he had intended. Truth was, The King had never done anything like this, compassion and comfort were foreign concepts to him. "You look like dying, but you won't. I won't let that happen." He tried to sound reassuring, failing terribly.
Thinking twice, it sounded as if he wanted to see him suffering and not give him the blessing of eternal rest.
The King in Yellow exhaled, turning his posture into a kneeling position in front of the sobbing D3rlord3. He extended his arm, lending the knight a hand. And as much as D3rlord3 loathed what The King had done to him, he was the only being around him to cling onto. With a hurried motion, D3rlord3 gripped The King's hand into a tight hug, sobbing into his digits.
The King stilled.
He felt his heart beating loudly in his chest, a tightness gripping the vital organ with an unforgiving iron fist. The King didn't know, he didn't understand why, but next thing he knew he had scooped the gladiator into his arms, holding him close to his chest, cradling him like a loving mother would cradle her little big man. He could feel it, the way he trembled in his embrace, the way he breathed heavily between sobs. D3rlord3 could feel The King's heartbeat, slow, steady but yet heavy almost as if it belonged to a weary soul. He didn't want to admit, but the sound f a heartbeat, of something so inexorably and undoubtedly human.
It made him calm down, even just a small meaningless bit.
The King made sure to keep his arms well wrapped around the knight, he wanted to speak, say something to ease the excruciating pain that lingered engraved deep into D3rlord3's psyche. But what could he say? If anything, he was the one who caused this, who would see such words not in the light of reassurance but in the darkness of mockery?
Despite this, words slipped out his mouth like water flowing peacefully in a quiet river. "Heavens forgive your hurting soul. wish I could ease this pain as easily as I harbored it upon you."
Silence.
"It will be fine, you're fine. I will linger by your side, dear." The King muttered in a softer voice, a voice as sweet as honey was but as soft as silk. He didn't know where these words came from, but it felt right, this as a whole, it felt nothing but right.
Time passed slowly, quickly, neither knew, they only knew the feeling of being so close to one another.
The comfort of each other's company.