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He thought he was finally ready to face his feelings head-on. To be honest with himself, for once. To deal with it like a man.
It wasn’t as if that would change what he’d done. What he’d have to do.
Olruggio suggested it. Said he wanted to take things further. More seriously. In such a case, Qifrey thought, there’s no harm in finding a novel reason to be anxious, is there?
But Qifrey underestimated his love, and now he was falling apart in a way he shouldn’t be. In the face of the most intimate thing they could do, he couldn’t possibly find joy—
—or he did, and that was the problem.
“Hey, whoa, whoa..!” Olruggio’s thumb brushed under Qifrey’s eye, tender as ever. “Qifrey, hey… Are you alright? Does it hurt?” He made the same pathetically concerned face as ever, oblivious to the unbearable suffering of the one he claims to love.
The white haired witch shook his head no, even though everything inside him screamed yes.
Wet, hot tears spilled down his cheeks, and despite his best efforts to scrunch his face until the endless stream ceased, he found that his expression could only continue to fall back to one of pure anguish. His chest ached—a rubber band pulled taut, only to snap and curl inwards before breaking.
At the same time that the tree inside him should be bursting through his skin, it felt as if it was twisting, knotting around and mercilessly squeezing his warm, fragile heart; a cruel punishment for almost feeling something real.
“I–I’m okay,” Qifrey managed to choke out between sobs. Clearly, it wasn’t true.
Olruggio was now fully out of the heat of the moment. He sat back and scooped Qifrey up into his arms halfway, letting his beloved cry into his chest.
Why must he be so caring? So warm?
Qifrey’s arms pulled tighter around the other man’s neck, needing to be closer to and more tucked away from him at the same time.
“Okay, okay. You’ll be alright, Qifrey.” Olruggio murmured, the gravely vibrations of his voice in his chest making Qifrey curl further into him. “I don’t know why you’re so upset, but I’m sure there’s a good reason, yeah?”
Qifrey wanted to respond, wanted to confess the truth all over again, but no sound left his mouth. Only brief panting and whimpers could push their way through the excruciating hurt.
“I’m sorry Ollie,” he eventually huffed out, hoarse and hardly above a whisper.
‘I’m sorry,’ the only thing he could allow himself to say. The only thing left that was still true.
Olruggio rubbed soothing circles between Qifrey’s shoulder blades, hushing him gently. “It’s okay, you just weren’t ready, it’s fine.” He ran a hand through the troubled witch’s hair before planting a soft kiss at the top of his head. “I still love you, it’s okay.”
Qifrey felt sick.
Here he was again, comforted by the same man he had to keep hurting over and over just to stay by his side. How could this be love?
How could it not?
“I’m sorry…” Qifrey sniffled, his grip loosening. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. This was a reckless idea anyway…” Olruggio chuckled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief at what he started. “You didn’t do anything wrong. If anyone should be apologizin’, it’s me—“
Qifrey forgot to keep listening at that point; he knew Olruggio would be apologetically rambling for a while. He pressed the side of his head to the other man’s chest, closing his eye and listening to his Ollie’s heartbeat. That steady, consistent rhythm Qifrey could never experience for himself.
If he could, he would’ve put all his love on a balance scale with Olruggio’s; indefinitely lighter. Untainted by the things he couldn’t remember. Pure, soft, true.
Nothing like Qifrey’s own: an impossibly heavy, dark, twisted, bleeding, living, writhing, catastrophic mess.
He wished he could untangle and cleanse that chaos, bit by bit, so that the fragile center might be freed at last; pulled out from beneath the thick roots weighing on it all. And in doing so, the scale would level out. Maybe then, the light of his life wouldn't be far out of reach.
And yet, reality is cruel.
Even if he reaches, his adoration can't be the only thing that grows.
“—nyway, I love you. You know that. I won’t ever make you do anything you don’t want to, so there’s no reason to feel guilty.”
“-Ollie, I…”
He pulled away, forcing a weak smile through the teardrops still rolling.
“I… love you too.”
Their lips met, and there was hard, splintering bark where Qifrey’s heart should be.