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"Master Olly?” Coco’s quiet voice made the contraption maker almost fall from his desk, turning towards his side to see all four of his old friends’ apprentices.
He sputtered in stunned silence for a moment before narrowing his eyes. “What are you doing in here!?” Was the first thing that came out, not exactly wanting four girls in his workshop while he was hunched over the stained worktable. “And what are you doing up this late?” Came next, less annoyed and more curious.
Tetia pushed herself to sit up onto the work table, legs swinging happily. “Why aren’t you and Master Qifrey married yet?” Ever so quick to the draw as she was, ignoring the way Agott looked at her in exasperation.
“That is not how we were supposed to tackle this!” The Arklaum girl’s brows drew closer, a flush appearing on her cheeks as sure embarrassment.
Richeh shook her head slightly, the pretty long braids down her back swishing with the movement; her hands busy petting the brushbuddy snuggled up in her arms. “It may not be, but it is the fastest way to an explanation, and Richeh thinks that is best.. I wish to go to sleep.”
The green-haired girl couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped her, locking her elbow around Agott’s. “Yeah! c’mon Agott! This way we can all go to bed once we know the answer; and this means we can go to bed faster! Who wouldn’t want that after all the fun we’ve had tonight?”
As stoic as Agott usually tried to appear, she couldn’t stop the flush doubling on her cheeks, looking away from the newest girl with a small “Humph.”
Olruggio’s brain felt like it was thrown into mud, blinking silently as he watched the girls talk back and forth. “W—Wait, wait, wait.” He spoke, causing the four to quiet down and look at the watchful eye. Four pairs of brightly colored irises stared at him in excitement and curiosity.
“What are you girls even talking about?” He questioned, brows furrowing in confusion. “Marriage? Why would Qifrey and I get married?” Although he was confused, he couldn’t help the fluttering in his chest.
Being married to the Ateliers master was only something he dreamed of, a dream he had pushed so far down he rarely thought of it until moments of domesticity with the Witch of Water caused his mind to drift, and him to have boyish dreams once again.
Tetia sighed dramatically, twirling a strand of pink, curly hair around her finger. “It’s so obvious! Master Qifrey and Master Olly are partners.” She was cut off abruptly by Richeh.
“It’s true.. Master Qifrey and Olly live together and cook together; Richeh has seen a sleepover too.. Unless that was all a lie.” Her baby blue eyes narrowed at the raven-haired witch, trying desperately to read his expression of deception.
The pink-haired girl smiled brightly at the youngest girl. “See! You’ve admitted being partners! And partners usually get married; sooooo, why aren’t you and Master Qifrey married yet?” She repeated, turning back towards the male.
Olruggio quietly stared at her before shaking his head in disbelief. “Umm..” He huffed out, dragging a palm down his tired face, trying to find the words without crushing his girls’ hearts.
“Is it because one of you is already married?” Coco piped up, chewing her bottom lip in both excitement and worry. “Master Qifrey likes spending time with Miss Alaira.”
The older male almost laughed as he turned wide-eyed back to his girls. “Alaira?” he asked before the laugh he suppressed forced its way out, causing him to lean his head into his open palm. “Ah.. No. Girls, neither of us are wed.”
All three of the girls (not Agott, of course,) frowned, looking at each other for a moment. “Are Master Qifrey and Master Olruggio going to get married? Can we be in the wedding?” Richeh asked, holding the brushbuddy closer to her almost like a stuffed toy.
“I… Well.” Olruggio began, looking away from the expectant eyes of four pre-teen girls.
After not responding for a moment, it was Agott who spoke. “Well?” She copied, trying hard to make it appear as though she wasn’t equally as invested as the other apprentices.
The witch cleared his throat and turned back to the girls. “You’ve.. Hah.. Really stumped me here.” He replied weakly, trying to avoid direct eye contact.
“So there could be a wedding?” Richeh asked, a small sparkle in her eyes.
“I want to be a flower girl!” Tetia cheered, her voice going much higher than Olruggio thought possible, especially this late in the night.
“Girls..” He spoke with exasperation, fidgeting with the string tying his sleeves. “Qifrey and I are not together.” All four of them deflated in some varying degree. “And… we won’t be havin’ a weddin cause we aren’t together.”
“What?!” Tetia screeched, hopping off the wooden table to get up into Olruggio’s face. “No! That can’t be! You do all sorts of partner-y things!” She frowned and held fast the fabric of his skirt. “If.. If Master Qifrey and Master Olruggio aren’t in love… then I don’t know what love is supposed to look like!”
Olruggio gently peeled her hand out of his skirt and soothed down some of the curls hindering her vision. “Shh.. Tetia.” He spoke tiredly, but full of kindness. “How about this,” he continued, looking past the loud girl to all of them. “I’ll talk to Qifrey about it, and get a solid answer fer you lot.. Now it’s late, and time for little apprentices like you to be fast asleep.”
Richeh frowned but turned on her heel to head back to her quarters. “Come on now, Tetia.” Agott coaxed the bubbly girl out with her and Coco, trying to comfort her in small ways.
Once his workshop was empty, Olruggio’s head fell onto the desk with a heavy thud, an achy groan escaping him as a pain swept through his brain. “Aye.. A wedding..” He whispered, trying to push his dreams down until they were nothing but a fleeting thought again.
He already had enough.
Olruggio was not a greedy man.
Though if it were possible, the man would live a thousand lifetimes of loneliness and longing just to have one where he could claim Qifrey as his own.
To hold him in true ways, kiss him as though they were destined to, something written in the stars that no one could deny.
But that was not this lifetime, and it wouldn’t be.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
“Qifrey.” His voice was quiet so as not to startle the man sitting with a novel resting on his lap just a few feet from the fireplace they had placed there together all those years ago.
The white-haired witch turned slightly so that he could face the other, a tender smile replacing the lax expression. “Olly.” He spoke with such adoration it made Olruggio swallow past the lump in his throat. “It’s far past the midst of nigh; what are you still doing awake? Is a contraption keeping you?”
“Nye.” Olruggio shook his head, coming to sit just beside the other, picking at the dried skin attached to his left hand, the cuticle dead from growth. “The girls...” he began before clearing his throat. “They asked me a question today, Y’know.”
Qifrey couldn’t help the small puff of air that left him as a laugh. “And you need help answering it, I presume?” He spoke, a teasing light under the happy tone he put on. “That’s so rare for you, Olly. Usually you have spectacular answers for the girls.”
Qifrey placed his bookmark into the novel, not wishing to lose his spot. Quietly reaching to place it on the small table just a few feet away. “They asked why we aren’t married.” Olruggio’s voice came out strained, gaze flickering from the floor to watch the others’ movements.
The water witch’s shoulders tensed up, and he slowly turned back towards his housemate with a surprised expression. “Ah..” Was all that came out of his parted lips. “Oh..” he continued before covering his mouth and coughing awkwardly. “Where in the world did.. That come from?”
Olruggio twisted his hand into the fabric of his sleeve so he would stop picking at the skin, his other hand coming up to rub at the back of his exposed nape. “Not quite sure… they were convinced we were… partners.”
The dark-haired male couldn’t see it from how he was trying his hardest not to look at the closest friend he’d ever had, but Qifrey wore an expression of trepidation, memories flowing back from their time as apprentices, reaching for a tassel that no longer lay on his head at the moment.
“Guess we’ve gotten too domestic in our old age, aye?” Olruggio tried to laugh, but it came out more of a wheeze, gazing into the roaring fire that licked against the stone hearth, lighting the room in a soft light.
Qifrey wrung his hands out in front just on top of his lap, gaze unfocused as a tender smile graced him. “I suppose we are quite domestic.” He spoke, voice light with memories. “Aren’t we?” He whispered, gaze flickering towards the commissioner.
Swallowing thickly, trying not to let a noise of embarrassment escape him, he cast a small smile back. "Aye.. According to Richeh, we’ve shared a sleepover before? Not sure where she got that from.. the mind of that child.”
The cotton-haired witch hummed in thought, looking up towards the ceiling as his mind rummaged through old memories. “Ah! I believe I know what she is refering too.” A nostalgic smile spread across his lips, “Remember that time when you came home after the banquet? What wine was it that you brought? Ciderberry?” He couldn’t help the small laugh. “You became so intoxicated.. I just—let you sleep right next to me on the sofa.”
“Oh.” Was all Olruggio spoke before a hearty laugh came from him, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah, I can see where.. the mix-up came from. Damn girl—she should have been asleep by then.”
The two shared quiet laughs until their voices died down, the only sound being the cracking of the firewood in the hearth. Qifrey’s icy gaze slowly drooped until worry took the place of comfort.
Clearing his throat, the master smoothed over the fabric of his robe, needing something to do that didn’t inherently involve his childhood best friend.
“Well.. What did you tell them?” He knew that he would have to ask eventually; there was no point in delaying the inevitable. He could feel pricks of anxiety crawling up his throat, leaving it dry and scratchy as he waited with bated breath for a response. Once he wished he never knew the answer, too.
Olruggio turned to face the other, a look that Qifrey could only describe as full of earnest, almost pleading, as his shaky voice spoke. “What should I tell them..?” It sounded as though he went through turmoil just to ask such a simple question.
Qifrey’s breath hitched as his chest felt as though a serrated spear wedged itself between his ribs. So desperately did he want to come forward with nothing but devotion, proclaim his love in the home they built together through blood and tears, a pact sworn between the two all those years ago.
How he wished he could close the space between them, share a kiss that spoke more words than the mortal mind could even comprehend. To complete each other once again as they had been dreaming of since they were not but pubescent boys.
If he could, they would already have been wed years prior; Qifrey devoted his entire life to the man in front of him, doting on him hand and foot just as he was meant to. But this was a cruel world that shaped him, and there was naught he could do until he brought those damned brimmed caps to justice. He promised his partner this, to find his past, and set their future free.
“Sorry.” Olruggio’s voice brought him out of the spiral. “—Forget I said anything..” Pushing the calloused fingers through his dark locks, moving the uneven cut hair out of the view of his eyes, sunken with sleepless nights and worry etched into the skin.
Now it was Qifrey’s time to sigh shakily, his eye going unfocused as he stared at the male while he looked away. “Forget..” he echoed with a wet tone, almost as if he were about to burst into tears just like when they were younger.
The words caused Olruggio to turn his gaze back, eyebrows pinching up in curiosity, a small hum urging Qifrey to keep talking or explain in a way he would understand.
“Ah—It’s nothing.” Qifrey cleared his throat, blinking away any moisture that he felt build in his eye.
They sat in the quiet once again, sharing a gaze that carried more than words could ever convey. Years’ worth of yearning on both ends, unable to be shared lest one were ripped from this mortal realm.
Not to say it never became more at some point. Qifrey will never forget the feeling of pressing his cold, chapped lips against the warmth of his partner; the world disappeared in those moments; they were neither a part of human nor this earth, just two souls accepting one another, no attachments to hold them apart.
But Qifrey was never allowed to keep this. The moment they brushed, he felt the roots in his system lurch, almost as if they were on the prowl, waiting for this moment specifically. A sob escaped him when he had to come back to earth and push the other away, lest he become a part of his tragedy.
That night ended with Qifrey staring at the stars, shivering in the midst of the cold winter nights where he sat upon the snow, a sleeping Olruggio lying on the water witch’s outer robes to keep him from the wet snow. Brain thoroughly scraped of any memory of the kiss they shared.
Qifrey kept this memory as a treasure, but one he held with such guilt it nearly consumed him every night he lay awake, staring into the blurry ceiling.
“You know..” Olruggio spoke first, shoulders caving in as if trying to make himself appear smaller. “They wanted me to ask you—If—If you wanted to get married.” It sounded as though he fought himself to get the words out, a flush decorating his beautiful tan complexion.
Qifrey knew he shouldn’t; every neuron in his brain was telling him to abort, but he couldn’t stop himself from the indulgence. “Are you asking me to marry you?” A small smile decorated his face as he so wished it were true, wished upon every meteor shower that he saw twinkling in the night sky that he could have this.
Olruggio cleared his throat for the nth time, blinking rapidly as if he was trying to find an escape. “The girls are.” He finally settled on, turning in his position so they were face to face, not just craning his neck to look upon.
What a foolish mistake Qifrey made to get himself into this mess. His Olruggio was looking at him so beautifully, full of devotion, something he wasn’t blind to no matter how often he tried to feign ignorance. He knew his partner; he knew he was willing to do anything to make this true; evident in the promise they shared, in every kiss they shared before Olruggio would forget once again.
The spear that had lodged itself deep in his chest was being twisted, held truly by none but his own hands, sabotaging any moment of happiness he could share with the true love of his life. Oh, how he wished he could know him much more sometimes.
Visions of a future flashed in his mind, sitting on their porch together, hand in hand after all the years of strife they pushed through, countless apologies Qifrey repeated like a prayer each night; finally free from the grasp of his own mind.
He loved, oh how he loved. Qifrey loved the man like a sinner sitting at the altar, devoting his entire life of ugly mistakes just to catch a glimpse of hope.
And here he was, Olruggio was looking at him with such kindness; his features had changed with age, no longer round cheeks and bright eyes, but a sharp jaw and wisdom-filled irises. The same look of love he received all those years ago was present on his face.
Qifrey felt like he was drowning.
Unable to take a real breath in, pinned under the weight of longing, yearning for his partner. This had happened before. Over and over… and over, and over, and over. There was going to be no happy ending to this… not unless he changed fate.
His teeth grit together painfully, expression flashing between fear, complete affection, longing, worry, and heartbreak. Olruggio’s remained the same, a gentle smile on his chapped and plush lips. So patient—always too kind to him.
Qifrey shakily inhaled, hand grasping at the cloth of his skirt. “You—You don’t want to marry me… Olly,” he spoke wetly, urging the tears in his eyes to disperse before they fell on his pale cheeks.
“…Don’t I?” His voice came out quiet, the look on his face that of puppy love, pupils blown wide. Though Qifrey knew his partner to long not to notice, he could practically see Olruggio’s heart breaking all over again—just how many times was he going to break his heart? Every time he placed that cap over his crown, he could see it.
Quiet tears started to form in Olruggio’s ocean blue eyes, the two saying nothing as they stared in silent conversation. Pleading and begging was all that ocean spoke; distance and nonacceptance responded the icy orbs.
Qifrey was the first to break eye contact, staring down at his hands as the knuckles of his pale grip turned white with how hard he held fast onto the fabric. He felt ill, the pain in his chest so heavy it affected his stomach.
He heard a sniffle and saw through his blurry peripheral as Olruggio wiped at his beard, chewing on the chapped skin of his lips. “Right—” his voice sounded wounded, like he had recently sustained an injury. “I’ll—I’ll tell them.. Not to hold their breath.” He spoke as he made to stand, the limbs supporting him shaking with effort.
The master of the atelier couldn’t speak as he watched his partner walk away, watching with tear-filled eyes at the way Olruggio’s shoulders were tense, and his hands clenched at his sides.
How he wished he could comfort him. But how could he comfort him when he was the source of pain?
As soon as Olruggio retreated to his quarters, Qifrey sighed heavily. Allowing his head to drop into his hands as a sob wracked his chest. Hot tears dripped down his face as he wailed not unlike he did when he was a child, holding fast onto the new tassel on his cap.
Damn him, and his damned past.
The thought of erasing his own memories danced in his thoughts for a moment, if only to quell the ache he felt stab through his ribcage and squeeze at his heart until it burst. But Qifrey was not a fool; he knew he needed this; if only to keep him around a day longer.
Forcing himself to sober up his tears and stand, Qifrey made way to his quarters. Pulling out scraps of paper from his desk and a pen hastily, he began writing yet another letter he planned to give to Olruggio once his past finally stopped hunting him down.
With shaky hands and blurry vision, he wrote.
Dearest Olruggio,
How I wish I could share this life with you. Tonight you asked me for my hand in marriage; I hope you know how I would take your hand in an instant if my own weren’t dipped in poison.
It almost killed me to hear you say my name like you did tonight; I dreamed a thousand different lifetimes of us together in an instant, and the thought of that alone caused my branches to spiral with growth;
I swear to you, I will find the brimmed cap who stole our future. I will not stop until I free us from this torturous existence.
I beg of you, my Dearest Star, wait for me.
Yours, forever and always.
Qifrey