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Time is a tricky thing. If you’re immortal, then time is assumed to be on your side. For Wanderer however, it’s not. He’s witnessed too much for one lifetime, been a part of too much. So much so, that each connection formed is only a flower waiting to wilt.
And that’s precisely why he wished Sethos had stayed away.
However, he didn’t. He kept showing up, appearing with a smile and story each time. Wanderer should’ve pushed him away, he really should have, but he never has. Because Sethos is so kind. He has a warmth that’s so inextricably radiant. It’s one that pulls you closer, but keeps you a certain distance away too.
Love is also a tricky thing. It’s one that comes over time. It’s not that he never saw it coming—after all, he knows himself best—but it certainly took root very easily. It started off as just curiosity, the natural push and pull of them. Still, that’s all it took, because curiosity turned into allure, admiration, captivation, and then adoration. It was plain as day really.
He would never admit that he is in love with Sethos. He can admit he’s taken a liking to him, but love can complicate things. It always has and always will. Sethos has an average lifespan, maybe a bit beyond that but that’s wishful thinking. Meanwhile, Wanderer has more than that.
So over time, he’s learned to be greedy. Perhaps that’s exactly why he couldn’t push Sethos away to begin with.
The simple truth is this: Wanderer likes to stare into vibrant emerald eyes as they gleam like stained glass, he likes to listen to mundane stories of life as he pretends to pay attention to a book in his lap, he likes to see what expression is plastered on Sethos face that day, he likes that he feels best when he’s with him than away from him. He likes it all. He likes Sethos, and it’s such a childish way to put it.
He can admire Sethos from afar, watching his curly hair bounce up and down as he runs errands. He can see him up close, small hidden freckles plastered on his honeyed skin like flecks of paint. He can tell when he’s down and hiding a frown, or when he’s so excited and bursting at the seams. He’s learned an inch of Sethos and wants to learn a mile.
But Wanderer has never been too greedy. He knows when to stop and think. So instead of Sethos keeping him at a distance, he does the distancing himself. He answers no questions of his past, doesn’t even falter under his gaze. He avoids physical contact with him like the plague, lest he get attached to the closeness of him. And he doesn’t let their conversations go longer than they should.
Because what would hurt most is to hope, and see it snuffed out like a candle. Wanderer has learned better than to hope.
“…I told Cyno he was wrong on his part for that though. I mean, who does that? Worst of all—“
Wanderer has a momentarily perplexed look on his face as he tries to remember what started the conversation.
Sethos blinks at him, then gives a disappointing sigh that truthfully lacks it. He brings his hands down to rest on either side of him, on the big branch of their secluded tree way above the canopies.
“You weren’t listening, were you?” He finally takes all of Wanderer in, and all he can do is admire the glow of Sethos’ eyes.
“Not my fault it wasn’t a particularly interesting story,” Wanderer clicks his teeth as he adds their signature banter.
Sethos points at him accusingly, eyebrows furrowed in an impossibly pretty way. “Hey, you were the one who asked about my day. Geez, wishy washy much?” He turns from Wanderer, pouting, as he stares down at Sumeru city kicking his legs back and forth like a little kid.
The moment settles in silence again as the trees billow in the whistling wind. The sun begins to dip in the horizon, shops begin to close down below, crickets begin to chirp in the surroundings.
“You’ve been in your head a lot more lately. …Is something up?” Sethos cuts through the silence with a quieter tone.
“No, I haven’t,” Wanderer barks back.
Sethos snaps his head back in his direction with a disbelieving look, “What?! Yes, you have! I can literally see it on your face every day.”
Wanderer just hums angrily, crossing his arms in defiance as he ignores Sethos.
Sethos’ look begins to transform into something akin to hurt, but it’s subtle. Wanderer tries his best to not watch how the sun’s dying rays light up Sethos’ face like a deity.
“I just..” Sethos huffs as he calms himself down again, “I wish you’d let me in sometimes, y’know? I wanna know how you’re feeling and stuff.” He finishes with a gentler tone, barely above a whisper.
Wanderer scoffs as if he’s offended, in truth his false heart aches. “It’s none of your concern. Don’t trouble yourself by thinking too hard.”
This time, Sethos’ sighs heavily into the approaching summer night’s heat, “Gods, I really hate when you do that.”
Wanderer turns at that, meeting an irritated Sethos’ who looks supremely angry.
“Do what?”
“That—that defensive thing you do when I pry. It’s just so goddamn irritating all the time. I try to give you space, I do, but if you won’t tell me your past then at least let me know what you’re so worried about.”
Wanderer opens his mouth but Sethos’ cuts him off.
“Don’t you dare say another defensive thing either.” He shuts his mouth.
Sethos’ begins to search him with honest eyes, looking across his face with concern. Wanderer feels weak at his gaze.
Then Sethos moves closer, just enough to keep their knees centimeters apart. The atmosphere shifts into something impossibly secluded, as though a bubble has warped around them.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” He asks in an almost pleading tone.
Wanderer nods slowly, he doesn’t back away from Sethos’ gaze. He only uncrosses his arms as he swallows with anxiety. He can feel the way heat crawls up to his face, from nerves or anticipation, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that Sethos is too close.
Sethos blinks at him endearingly, pursing his lips as he thinks for a moment, “Then what are you so afraid of?” He finally whispers.
Wanderer admires the way moonlight slowly begins to wash upon this honeybee. He wishes he can keep this endearing gaze on him forever. He wishes he could not see Sethos’ face already fading away in his memory like a taunting joke.
He slowly inhales as he realizes he stopped his practiced breathing. His own gaze becomes much softer as indigo meets emerald. He briefly flicks his gaze down to their hands that almost conjoin on the branch, then he meets Sethos’ eyes again.
He tries to think of what to say, anything to not make him sound like a fool.
Instead there’s simply a passing glance as Sethos’ leans in, giving him a small peck to the corner of his lips. It’s soft, gentle, and oh so warm. It completely shuts down any train of thought he just had. It has Wanderer wondering if he imagined it just now.
Sethos keeps his eyes closed for a moment as he pulls away, their faces still close as ever. He blinks his eyes open, a sorrowful expression still on his face.
“I mean it, when I say I’m here. You don’t have to think about the best answer, just give me an honest one.”
Sethos’ eyes begin to bore into his, intoxicatingly mesmerizing. Wanderer does his best to take a moment to collect himself. He stupidly feels like crying.
“I’m worried. I’m worried you’ll just become a fleeting memory of mine. And you don’t deserve that.” His tone gives way to something unbeknownst to him.
Sethos’ eyes widen just the slightest, looking taken aback.
“I keep pushing you away because I’m hoping you’ll drift away on your own, so I don’t have to know what it feels like to see you walking away.” His answer curls around the night wind.
Wanderer looks away once more, unable to keep his eyes trained on Sethos’ anymore. He suddenly takes interest in how the moon climbs higher into the sky, a few clouds lingering nearby.
Then there’s Sethos’ warmth again, his hand coming to meet a cold puppet’s. One that shouldn’t know of this warmth. It draws Wanderer back in to gaze at Sethos indefinitely.
“Well you’re not a fleeting memory for me. You’re what I want to see in my future, however long and far that may be.”
Wanderer’s false heart aches again at that, a painful twist and squeeze that makes him believe he’s physically hurt.
Sethos keeps his entire focus on him, even as he interlocks their fingers completely, brushing his thumb across his knuckle.
“I’m here right now, you have me right now. And I have you, that’s enough isn’t it?”
“What if it isn’t? What if I want you longer than that.” He whispers back weakly.
Sethos pauses shortly. He makes that face he does when he’s got the words but not the full thought. He opens his mouth to start once, then closes it. He blinks a few times in a row, then he finally finds it.
“Then start by keeping me close right now. I want to spend my whole life learning and knowing you.” Sethos speaks with more determination than Wanderer could muster.
The air feels as though it’s gone stale around him. He has a bittersweet feeling crawling through his entire being. It aches with the unknown.
Despite his turmoil, Sethos cautiously brings his other hand up to cradle Wanderer’s cheek. He gives small ministrations brushing across his cheek bone. He leans in close again, emerald trained on indigo with nothing but hope glistening within them.
He waits, waits for Wanderer to pull away. Sethos is always just too kind, isn’t he? He always gives him an out.
This time, Wanderer refuses to take it. He leans in and closes off the distance, letting himself feel the warmth of Sethos without a tinge of guilt as he pulls him closer. A tear unknowingly rolls down his face along the way but Sethos is there to wipe it away. As they break away from each other each time, Sethos is there whispering sweet nothings against his lips.
Wanderer has a hard time hoping, it’s let him down too many times. And yet, here he is hoping.