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Olruggio had been extremely busy working on a rather large list of commissions from a well paying client the last month and a half. While Qifrey missed his presence in the main part of the atelier and he worried about the amount of sleep and nutritious food Olruggio got when he worked himself so hard, he knew Olly keeping up with his commissions was beyond important. As an instructor Qifrey’s main job was looking after his four apprentices; he didn’t have the time (or interest, or people skills) to take on any commissions. Olruggio’s commissions were the only source of income for the atelier, so Qifrey couldn’t very well complain about how much time Olly took fulfilling them. He missed his friend, of course, and worried about his health, but teaching wasn’t known to bring in money… even when witches did it. All Qifrey could do was support his friend while he worked, leaving food at his door and doing his laundry for him.
When Olruggio made a rare appearance in the kitchen one night to tell Qifrey he was nearly completed with his work, Qifrey was relieved; and he wasn’t one bit surprised when Olruggio told him that he’d be reveling in a bit of debauchery to celebrate his short lived freedom from work. While Olly was an avid drinker and fond of coma-length naps, he also enjoyed smoking. Despite how much he enjoyed it, he didn’t often indulge in it except for special occasions. Olly’s smoking was a long affair, one that took him a couple of days to come back from before his head was cleared. He loved it, but couldn’t be rendered out of commission so often to partake in it. Just as Qifrey was glad to support Olruggio by the sidelines as he worked, he was also glad to take care of him while he smoked. So, after that night, Qifrey began preparing foods that he knew Olruggio liked to eat when he was high. He baked fresh bread, took the girls berry picking, and bought fresh produce and cheese and honey from the weekend market in the Unknowing town outside Kalhn.
Taking care of Olruggio with meals brought Qifrey a sense of comfort. Olruggio may have been the Watchful Eye over the atelier, but Qifrey took pride in being the Watchful Eye over him. He would never take care of himself the same doting way he took care of Olruggio and the girls, but that was okay. Taking care of them didn’t leave him sick with guilt and twisting pains. It kept him busy and it just felt right. Cooking for Olly and protecting him while he relaxed was the very least Qifrey could do for him while he provided for them all and Qifrey was happy to do it. He was happy to give to Olruggio what he could in exchange for all that he couldn’t give him.
Four days after their meeting in the kitchen, Olruggio found Qifrey again. This time it was in the front room as he came in from outside after shutting his chickens in their coop for the night. Olly’s hair was greasy and the bags under his eyes were heavy and dark, but he wore a satisfied smile. “Just finished,” He nodded. “Feels like a whole weight is off m’shoulders.”
Qifrey shook his head softly as he returned Olruggio’s smile. It was not wasted on him that he was always the first person Olly sought out after finishing anything. “Does that mean you’re going to indulge a little now?”
Olruggio exhaled a laugh through his nose, “Already packed m’bowl.” He held Qifrey’s gaze for a second too long and looked down to smile at the floor. “Can I still count on ya to keep me company?”
“There’s no place I would rather be, dear friend,” Qifrey said. “Just let me finish here and I’ll be right up.” He put his hand on Olly’s arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Start without me, I won’t be long.”
As he looked up from the floor, Olruggio opened his mouth. He looked like he had something more to say, but he simply nodded. “Yeah,” He muttered. “I’ll be waitin’.” He then turned and started for the stairs.
Qifrey watched him go and after a second he moved to the kitchen. He washed his hands and got to work preparing a small feast to celebrate Olly’s work. On his largest wooden cutting board, he placed a small log of blueberry goat cheese. With it he laid out crackers, thick slices of homemade bread, thin strips of cured rhinocerox meat, and small dipping jars of jam and honey. It may not have been more than a simple grazing board, but it was filled with the sorts of foods Olruggio liked best when he smoked. Once he was satisfied with the presentation of the board, Qifrey took it in his hands and began his journey up to Olruggio’s room.
The atelier was quiet and peaceful at night. Outside, Qifrey could hear the soft song of the wind and evening insects as he ascended to Olruggio’s tower. He knew he didn’t need to knock on Olly’s door, but he did so anyways. When Olruggio called him in, Qifrey pushed it open and walked inside. His nose was immediately met with the heady and earthy smell of the leaves Olruggio smoked. There was another tone to the scent, however, something soft and sweet. It smelled like flowers pushing through the dampness of a heavy spring rain. Qifrey figured Olruggio had crushed up dried halftone weed and added it to his normal smoking mixture.
While the room smelled good, Qifrey was not focused on the smell. As he shut the door behind him, his eyes immediately fell on Olly, who was laying on a nest of pillows on the floor with his hookah closeby. It felt nice to see his friend so comfortable and at ease. Qifrey moved into Olruggio’s comfy floor space and knelt next to him with the food tray in his hand. “I hope I didn’t leave you waiting too long.”
“Nah,” Olruggio waved his hand and picked up the mouthpiece of his smoking instrument. He raised it to his lips and took a deep inhale. He held it inside of his lungs for a moment before gently exhaling. “Just-” He coughed and smoke trailed from his nose. “Just gettin’ started.” He offered Qifrey the mouthpiece. “Like some?”
Qifrey shook his head, “No thank you. There needs to be at least one sober adult on the premises, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I hear ya.” As he put the hose down, Olruggio moved closer to Qifrey. He let out a long, tired sigh and picked up a cracker from the board in Qifrey’s hands. “Thank you for makin’ this, Qifrey. “ He dipped it in the goat cheese and smelled it before taking a bite. With a moan, Olly threw his head back as he chewed. “This is so good.”
A heat rose in Qifrey’s face, but he still smiled. “I’m more than happy to feed you,” He placed the board of food down between them and held his hands in his lap. “But I don’t really think slicing bread and cheese counts as much.”
“It does,” Olruggio’s words were muffled as his mouth was still full. But once he swallowed, he shook his head and grabbed Qifrey’s hand. “Yer hands touched it, I’m certain that’s what makes it taste so good.”
Qifrey’s fingertips fluttered in Olruggio’s hand and he felt his heart swell for a split second before looking away. “Oh, Olly…” He took his hand back and pressed his cool palm to his flushed cheek. “Just enjoy your food, I’d like to see you relax after working so hard.”
Even though his head was turned, Qifrey could still feel Olruggio’s eyes on him. “Alright,” Olly finally gave in. “As long as you stay here with me, then I’ll be able to relax.”
“Then here I’ll stay.”
They talked very little, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a comfortable evening. Somewhere between snacking and smoking, Olly slunk across the floor until his head was in Qifrey’s lap. Qifrey did not fight him one bit. His fingers moved through Olruggio’s unwashed hair softly as he hummed a quiet tune. It was the closest he could safely be with Olly, and Qifrey was grateful for it.
In his lap, Olruggio’s eyes were closed and by all means Qifrey thought he was asleep. However, the quiet grumble of his voice caused Qifrey to straighten up and his fingers flex quite suddenly in Olruggio’s hair in surprise. “Yer damn cold.”
“Am-” Qifrey was still shocked that Olruggio was awake. He took a breath to steady himself. “Am I?”
“Freezin’,” Olruggio opened his dark eyes and looked up at Qifrey. His eyes were glazed over from smoking, but they were fixed on Qifrey. “Ya sure you’re eatin’ enough? Bein’ so cold can mean you’re low on blood.”
Qifrey’s face softened at Olruggio’s worry and he carefully began to brush his hair with his fingers again. “I just tend to run cold, Olly. You know this.”
“Yeah,” Still staring up at Qifrey, Olruggio smacked his lips. “Yeah, I know. Don’t mean I like it though.” He reached out for Qifrey’s other hand and put it against his cheek, nuzzling the rough stubble on his face into Qifrey’s palm.
Qifrey knew why Olruggio was so worried about the cold. He held in his sigh and watched his friend cuddle his hand. Something inside his chest ached at the soft sight of Olruggio being so openly affectionate, something barbed with briars and thorns.
“Let me warm you up?” Olruggio asked quietly. He had closed his eyes again and put his lips to Qifrey’s palm in something that was almost a kiss. “Please?” He looked up at Qifrey, a quiet begging behind his tired eyes.
“Olly-” Qifrey began, but he was interrupted as Olruggio placed a kiss- a real kiss to the inside of his hand.
“Don’t freeze up on me,” Olruggio muttered. “I just want to see that you’re warm and taken care of.” His breath was hot over Qifrey’s palm, his beard gently scratching the pale skin of his hand as he spoke. “Let me be the one to take care of you.”
It hurt. Everything inside Qifrey hurt. He wished he could cut out that hurt, cut out that seed of pain that revelled in every little joy he had, but he could not. To remove the seed would be foolish, fatal even. Qifrey had not lived a day without pain, and to start would only shock his system. Happiness without worry would kill him far faster than pain ever would. He had no tolerance for it.
Qifrey had no words for his pain, for the dilemma that constantly plagued him. He didn’t want to share that truth with Olruggio, he couldn’t, not without consequence. Not without Olly forgetting. Qifrey didn’t want Olly to forget this night and the moment they shared, but he couldn’t let it go on. It had gone too far already, anything more would’ve been suicide. But Olruggio was tugging Qifrey down to the floor with him, taking him into his warm arms and holding him close.
“Olly,” Qifrey breathed. He closed his eyes tightly and fought against the aching comfort that swelled within him. How long had he wanted to be held by Olruggio just like this? How long had he wanted to feel his gentle touch? “Olly, we can’t.”
“Why?” Olruggio asked. His voice wasn’t angry, only sad and confused. He did not know why and Qifrey would not share the answer, at least not the real one. He did not let go of Qifrey, his arms stayed wrapped around him as he spooned his back. “Tell me why, Qifrey. I want-” He inhaled as he lifted his hands from Qifrey’s stomach. “If you don’t want me, then why…”
The comfort inside Qifrey’s body paled in comparison to the pain he was causing his dear friend. Vines like kudzu around his heart and brain throbbed and subsided within him. Qifrey did not want to hurt Olruggio, yet he knew he did it all too often. Why was it that his life was prolonged by hurting the one who he loved most? Why did he have to dim a star to keep his own fire lit? It would’ve been easier to die, but death was too easy, too peaceful.
“We’re friends, Olly.” Qifrey shook his head. It felt like he was wrestling with two tonne weights as he freed himself from Olruggio’s weak hold. “I don’t…” Qifrey inhaled sharply and angled his head upwards as he sat up. He didn’t want his tears to fall where Olruggio could see them. “I care for you, yes, but… but not like that.”
It was a lie. It would always be a lie, but Qifrey had gotten rather good at lying in his life. It wasn’t because he wanted to lie, but because he had to. Honesty meant death, and there was too much Qifrey had to see through before he could die.
“I…” Olruggio’s voice was thick, he sat up and moved away from Qifrey, giving him ample space. “I see. I’m sorry I pushed m’self on you. Please don’t… um…” He inhaled and hesitated as he looked at the ground. “I won’t do it again.”
Qifrey soundlessly nodded and stood up. He did not turn around to look at Olruggio. If he had, he would’ve lost all control at seeing his friend so close to tears. “Please,” Qifrey forced his voice to be calm and level as he wiped his skirts off. “Please make sure you return the cutting board to the kitchen when you’re through with it.”
Olruggio did not answer and Qifrey did not stay around waiting for one. He wordlessly left Olruggio’s room and closed the door behind him as quietly as he could. For a very long moment, Qifrey just stood in the hall and stared at the door, but then his vision grew blurry as tears overwhelmed his eye. He could not stay there. No matter how badly Qifrey ached to go back inside and draw Olly into his arms, he just couldn’t. Such comfort would be wasted on them both.
Qifrey went to his room then and locked the door behind him. He flicked on every lamp and lit every candle until the brightness of it all angered his head. Pain would not kill him, it did not have an upper limit. Only joy would kill Qifrey, only Olruggio. Qifrey would not make Olly a murderer, so he cried alone in his room instead.