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The music was too loud.
Or maybe not loud enough.
Phainon could no longer tell.
The hall spun gold around him, candlelight melting across polished marble while distant laughter blurred into static. All around him, people celebrated. The end of the world, the beginning of peace or whatever they wished to call it.
He could only hear the constant ringing in his ears.
One step. Then another.
A dance, though it felt closer to a spasm.
His body moved automatically, smooth and elegant in the way it had always been trained to, even if there was something deeply wrong with it now. Each turn felt too sharp. His body swayed and swayed that he nearly fell, like a puppet whose strings had begun to snap.
Even so, he laughed, twirling his dance partner again, stepping behind them. Dizzy.
Sharp eyes followed his movements from the corner of the room.
At first, Mydei thought Phainon was merely drunk. The other man hadn’t shied away from any of the cups offered to him that night.
Then he saw that smile.
Often hidden by a dark hood. Soon, obscured completely by a mask.
Phainon laughed as another partner spun away from him, nearly stumbling before catching himself. Applause followed anyway.
They always clapped for him. Hero. Savior. Beautiful Kephale Khaslana.
The music swelled and his feet kept moving.
Left.
Right.
Turn.
The rhythm pounded through his skull like a second heartbeat, singing of futile, useless things.
Love, love, love.
How annoying.
How unbearable.
A memory surfaced uninvited.
Golden fields tasting of honey and pie, a warm hand in his, pink hair and a bright, wonderful smile, making fun of something he could hardly recall.
Phainon missed a step, and the crowd sung in quiet laughter, thinking it part of the dance.
He laughed too.
What else was he supposed to do?
“Phainon.” Mydei’s hand caught his wrist mid-spin. Or mid-trip.
Warm.
Phainon stared ahead, expression blank before he caught himself, offering the other that same empty smile. “There you are.” His voice sounded hoarse. “Come dance with me.”
Mydei’s brows furrowed immediately.
Phainon was trembling.
Not visibly enough for anyone else to notice.
But Mydei knew him. He knew that subtle stiffness in his shoulders, the slight lag in his breathing, the fever-bright look hidden beneath half-lidded eyes.
“You need to rest.”
“What a dull response, your majesty.” Phainon tugged him closer anyway, one hand settling around Mydei’s waist as the music dragged on, uncaring. “Dance with me.”
Mydei’s hands hovered in the air for just a second, fingers twitching.
He relented, as he always did.
The two of them moved together, Phainon gliding more than stepping, almost weightless in Mydei’s hold.
Despite the cheerful atmosphere, the air between them felt oddly charged.
Even when Phainon laughed at him, at the people surrounding them, his hands shook where he held Mydei’s. His swirling was almost violent, his dip came dangerously close to smashing Mydei’s head against the floor.
Mydei didn’t mind it.
Didn’t mind it at all.
Why would he? He only wished to be with Phainon, understand whatever was swirling in his mind.
Phainon had a terrible habit of bottling his feelings, allowing them to fester until they exploded and left him empty and scraped raw. Leaving behind only a deep sense of self-hatred.
And judging how he was behaving right now–
They continued moving, steps always in sync, left, right, turn - until both men were breathless. White hair plastered to his forehead, golden-red sticking to his neck.
And then, Phainon pulled him closer, their bodies for the first time swaying into something that could be considered gentle. Chin tucked against his shoulder.
“You know,” Phainon murmured, his breath tickling Mydei’s ear. “I think I hate you, Mydei.”
Mydei stared at him out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing.
“Love…” He continued, a smile still lifting the corner of his lips. “As a boy, I often wondered what that was like. Something kind?” He laughed. “Maybe it’s meant to feel soft, like the fur of the little dog I had, or maybe, or maybe-”
His hold tightened, causing Mydei to let out a quiet gasp.
“It doesn’t really matter, does it?” Phainon’s voice softened. “This feeling bubbling inside of me. This caustic, clawing, ugly thing. I’m sure it can only be ‘Hate’.”
Even you will rust away if you stay by my side.
His words slurred strangely near the end.
Mydei slowed their dancing and immediately, Phainon let out a pained, desperate sound.
“No.” His fingers dug into Mydei’s shoulder. “Don’t stop.”
“Phainon–”
“If you stop, I’ll keep remembering.”
Around them, the music continued.
People laughed and glasses clinked.
Their surroundings kept moving, celebrating the birth of their world while Phainon looked at him with eyes so exhausted they hardly seemed human anymore.
“I can’t stand it.”
All those lives, those memories, unforgettable, because Kephale never forgets. Were they really his? Could he really claim that when there was so much love, such warmth emanating from them?
That familiar gnawing of his bones, so sickeningly sweet it almost choked him.
Could he escape it?
This hollow, empty body of his only seemed capable of ‘love’ when buried in those nostalgic memories. His reminiscing, falling. Falling. Never really his to hold.
Phainon glanced at the body before him, the feeling of a hand cradling the back of his head. Strife’s eyes shone with a strange emotion, unbecoming of their name.
They guided the dance now, slow steps echoing around him, moving them somewhere else, chilly. His body gave the lightest tremble.
The music fizzled out slowly, the static on his ears turning into a distant sound.
Despite himself, Phainon let out a quiet chuckle. One hand settled at their back, sliding down, down until his fingers tapped a familiar spot. Strife shuddered against him.
“What are you seeing right now?”
The question pulled him out of his daze. Numbly, Phainon realized his eyes had slipped shut at some point during the dance. Upon opening them, breathtaking gold greeted him.
“Mm.”
Phainon’s hand settled upon a smooth cheek, thumb idly tracing a familiar, fire red tattoo.
“I keep wondering. Which one are you.” Their steps started again, slower, away from prying eyes. “That first Mydei, the one who teased me about a card, the one who led a happier life with his parents, a pampered prince surrounded by people who adored you, or–”
“Such foolish thinking. And here I was led to believe you were a master at using that sharp tongue of yours.” Step, circle, their loose clothing flapped with the movement. “What I was and what I could have been is of no concern right now.”
A thumb swiped under Phainon’s eye, even when there was nothing to brush away. His lip trembled, but he remained smiling.
“Wow… I wonder what you’ve been reading in that library.”
A huff. “You’ll know once you go there. I’m still waiting.”
Phainon’s smile twitched.
“You say things like that so easily.” He laughed under his breath, exhaustion weighting heavily beneath the sound. “Aren’t you… tired? Of waiting. I’m sure so many people must be vying for your attention.”
Mydei guided them through another slow turn.
Muffled cheer, applause sounded from far, far away, the noise swallowed by the stars glancing down at the pair.
The weight of another body anchoring his.
“Perhaps there are.” Mydei spoke quietly, only for him. “But the person I’m waiting for… is incredibly dear to me. Until he finds himself, I’ll stay right where I am.”
Phainon’s steps faltered and it was only by Mydei’s steady hold that they continued moving at all. Sloppy now, uncoordinated, but still–
“You shouldn’t.” His voice cracked. “I don’t understand why you keep clinging to something so rotten.”
He struggled, trying to break free of Mydei’s hold, too aware of every point of contact between them.
Mydei’s hand at his back.
The steady rise and fall of the chest against his.
Again, it rang, making his ears hurt.
Love, love, love.
How horrible.
“Do not speak of him like that.” Mydei scolded, his gaze sharp under the moonlight. “He may be an incorrigible fool, but he is the one that I chose to stay by my side.”
And Phainon couldn’t help himself.
He laughed, and laughed louder still, gripping Mydei so tightly that the shape of his nails must have left a brand upon his skin.
And he continued laughing, even as his shoulders shook, even when his movements slowed to an awkward shuffle. Even when his eyes burned with tears that would never fall.
Of course Mydei would say something like that. He’s just that kind of person.
No matter the sins Phainon committed, he-
Ah.
Phainon understood now.
The sudden quiet felt almost comforting. Slowly, Phainon leaned his head against Mydei’s shoulder, their steps winding down.
“Mydei.” He whispered.
“Yes?”
“…Keep dancing with me.”
And because Mydei loved him in all the ways Phainon himself could not, he did.