Work Text:
Basil followed Dorian as they ascended the stairs, Dorian radiated nervousness, apprehension filled each of his steps.
Dorian opened the door for Basil, and shut it with a soft click behind them.
Before him stood a large shape obscured by a gold detailed purple velvet covering.
“Basil, I-“ Dorian said, before cutting himself off.
He took a breath, and tried again. “Basil. I’m sorry.”
With that he pulled the fabric concealing the shape off. As the rich purple velvet covering slid down, revealing the portrait that Basil had done all those months ago, Basil gasped.
He brought a hand to his mouth, as he looked to the painting.
The once beautiful likeness has warped into something abhorrent. Boyish expression had twisted into a look of cruelty. Evil clouded the once wondering eyes of the picture.
“Dorian…” Basil breathed, uncomprehending, and fearfully repulsed.
He looked to his dear friend, the man he so worshipped.
Before him stood a boy. Eyes glistening with so far unshed tears. Blonde ringlets which framed his face trembled slightly.
Fear radiated from him, and Basil looked on in horrified sorrow.
“Help me, Basil. Please.”
“Oh, Dorian.” He said softly.
The silence snapped, and Dorian fell into his arms.
Tears of pure terror rolled down Dorian’s cheeks. The green fabric of Basil’s waistcoat darkened as it caught the torrent of fear.
Basil held him tight, one hand pressed in comfort to Dorian’s golden curls.
The years seemed to strip away, and Basil saw Dorian for what he truely was at heart.
A scared, youthful boy. Shivering and pathetic as he was faced with the embodiment of Basil knew not.
At last, Dorian pulled away, and shaking slightly, sunk to the floor.
Basil followed him down. The floor was cold and hard, but Basil didn’t care. Holding his hand in comfort, Basil listened as Dorian told him what had happened.
They sat that way til long past the sunrise.
“I’ll help you Dorian. We’ll make this right, theres hope for you I promise.” He reassured him.
He thought for a moment, then added, “Come away with me, to Paris. A fresh start in a new city, away from the bad influences of London. I have missed my train today, but that’s no matter, I’ll book two more tickets for this Friday.”
Dorian looked at him, blue eyes sparkling. “But I have nowhere to reside.”
“Don’t be silly, you can stay with me. I can teach you to paint and appreciate the beauty of life.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“Thank you, Basil. Truely.” Dorian said.
And for the first time in a long time, he dared to feel hope.