literature

Nearly There Nicely 28

Deviation Actions

NostalgicRoxas's avatar
Published:
149 Views

Literature Text

Nearly There Nicely
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Will and Crow woke up that following morning to the sound of an alarm clock that went off at 7am sharp.  Groggily they sat up and looked at the clock. Since Crow was closest, he reached over and turned it off, and then started to snuggle back into the warm heavy comforters. Will had sat up and watched as Crow turned off the clock, and had started to snuggled back in to warmth.

Both of them felt like they needed ten more hours of sleep. The night had been restless. Will rolled and shivered in his sleep, dreaming of Matéas talking to him about the sword. It felt all too real and threatening, so much that Will just couldn't get comfortable enough to really sleep. And Crow had spent the night barely sleeping as he worried what the dawn would bring. His god that held the Bind on him could control so much of him. He could move Crow's body like a puppet, and force him to do things against his will by order of his name. Crow hadn't heard his name in years and suddenly the day Will says it, the god gives him an order. The coincidence seemed like a haunting shadow.

But if Will has a Blessing on him, Crow thought hopefully in the night just enough to ease into sleep. Then he can't consume his soul-- he can't even mess with his head anymore. For now, Will's safe.

However, these thoughts brought nothing but sick laughter echoing into Crow's mind. It pissed Crow off. The god was amused, as if Crow's thoughts were the naïve dreams of a child longing to find the base of the rainbow.

Crow opened his eyes, peering their golden wonderment across the bedsheets to Will's figure. The grays and whites blurred together. The shirt Will wore was light and fluffy, but still gray. His skin was darker, with his hair darker then that, but the shades were similar on the spectrum. Crow knew from looking in a mirror his skin was paler then Will's but his hair was far darker.

Obviously his would be lighter- he's got rose pink hair- as dusty as a cloud at sunset. And my hair is like a midnight sky without a moon. Crow closed his eyes, feeling a pain rip at his heart. ...For I have no light to guide me.

A knock came at the door to the room. Crow opened his eyes, sitting up to look over Will's body, who hadn't moved. The door opened and in came Alexander skipping. He hopped his way over to the bedside, resting his arms along the edge and poked at Will's cheek playfully.

Crow looked from the boy to the door to see Adell walk in. The man was dressed in some fancy suit with his hair gelled back smoothly. He looked smug, conceited, and rich. It disgusted Crow.

“I trust you didn't steal anything overnight.” Adell said as he came in, circling around the room to make sure all the most expensive things were in their proper place.

Crow waved an arm. “Oh, how could I? I'd have to leave to steal it first.”

Adell turned his eyes on Crow, a sharp glare. “Perhaps, but one can steal something without intending to. Can't he?”

Crow's eyes thinned, feeling the tension in the air. He was coming under scrutiny of the Grand Duke himself. “Maybe. Why?”

“I want you to get out.” Adell said firmly. “And take the kitchen boy with you.”

“Don't you want to make sure he's better before he leaves with a banged up head?” Crow asked, annoyed.

“I don't need a headline to read 'Crazy Cast-out Boy Injured In Grand Duke's Home'.” Adell answered, crossing his arms. “You will take him out of my house, and life, for good.”

Crow shrugged. “I can't promise that, old man.” He snickered, “Where do you even want me to take him?”

“The Threshold.” Adell answered. “You have gold eyes. Only someone from there could've given you those.” He paused, looking Crow up and down a moment. “I don't care if you're human, or not. Eat the boy, take him into the slave trade. Whatever. Just get him out of my life.”

Crow shifted to jump up. “How the hell could you say that about your own son! He's right here in this room! Don't talk about him like he's not here!”

Adell shouted back, “Alexander is my only son! That boy is nothing but a pathetic weak nuisance.”

Crow got up, pointing at Adell, walking toward him. He shouted back at the man, “You're only saying that because you're afraid!”

“Afraid of what?” Adell asked, glaring into the golden eyes.

“Afraid of the thought that just maybe he is your son!” Crow growled. “You can't stand it. How horrible you've treated him. He's not a servant to you. He's your slave! You probably order him around up and down and all around, until he faints at night on a pathetic flea-ridden bed in some leaky crappy ass room!”

Adell swung a punch at Crow's stomach, shoving the young man to the floor. Adell's anger was present on his face when Crow looked up through a foggy glare. “That... boy... Is not my son.” Adell answered with anger and rage, slowly and kept the words apart for impact. “He's crazy, and is a threat to my child. That injury on his head is from his own negligence.”

Will shifted to sitting up on the bed. Alexander had already jumped up and hidden underneath the blankets by Will's stomach. Will had one hand under the blankets, which Alexander was grasping at tightly. With his other hand, Will smoothed his bangs from his eyes, letting them curl around his cheeks and some be over his nose. His azure eyes focused on Adell. Adell looked up to Will, and their eyes met, briefly.

Adell's eyes tensed a moment, as if he remembered something. But instantly it was gone, as he straightened himself out and turned to leave the room. Over his shoulder he called to them, “If you're not out by eight, I'm calling the guards.” And he left the room to the silence.

Will watched as his father left the room. He felt nauseous, and sick. His head was pounding, the pain focusing on the cut on the back of his head. His shoulders and ribs started to hurt from where he had fallen on them. All the moisture left Will's mouth and throat, leaving him to gasp for air after a few seconds.

Crow looked to Will as he had straightened up, holding his gut. He saw as Will's face looked odd, perhaps pale. Will's expression was plain though- he was shoving with all his might any emotions that were rocketing up back down. His eyes were wide, but as Crow watched, Will's eyes became focused on the comforter in front of him, and within a few seconds they were devoid of shimmering feelings.

Crow couldn't help but stare quietly at Will. He watched in stunned silence as Will shifted up, patted Alexander's head, and then pulled on his shoes. Will spotted the lyre on the bedside table. He picked it up suddenly and walked over to Crow, dropping it at his feet.

“Here.” He said, his voice soft and bitter. “This is what you wanted.”

Crow stared at the lyre and then back up to Will. He was leaving the room, just like that. He was... “Are you just gonna take that?” Will stopped at the door, and turned to give Crow a genuine look of curiosity. “He said you're crazy-- not better then a sex slave. You're just gonna--”

“It doesn't matter.” Will cut in, his expression blank. Crow blinked, staring at Will in shock. “I'm not his son. He can say what he wants.”

“No!” Crow shouted. “You are his son!”

Will shook his head. “I'm not.”

“You are!” Crow shouted, louder, trying to affirm it.

Will shouted at him, shaking his arms as he did. “I'M NOT!!”

Crow's eyes went wide as he stared at Will. Unlike last time Will shouted at him when Crow pushed too hard, Will didn't regain his emotionless composure. Will stood there with his body trembling. Crow opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came. He tried to force it out, but instead he felt a pain in his throat. The god was stifling his words from coming out.

Will shook his head, his eyes downcast. Crow couldn't see his face. A soft breath echoed in the room like a sob, and Will's voice trembled after it. “He... He said it himself.” Will took a breath, swallowing down some tears. “If I stay, I'll only hurt him more.” Will's voice pitched up and down.

Crow tried to say something, opening his mouth wider and shoving a breath through harder. He even took a few steps toward Will's shaking body. The god used such a force to stop him. Crow couldn't speak, and his body felt like he weighed a ton again. His own blood was making him feel heavy and sluggish.

“So,” Will shook an arm, gesturing to the lyre, before jerking it beside his body in an annoyed manner. “Take what you want and be done.”

This is a good flavor.” came an echo inside Crow's head. “I think now's a good time. Tell him.

Fuck off! Crow thought instantly back to the god.

Lien. You will tell Will Bel'vaz right now.

Crow's gut twisted and his heart jerked- but this pain wasn't from the god. It was from Crow tensing all of his body to stop his words. But they forced their way out.

“I'm not done.” Crow said, loud and clear and sharply. “Your dad's amensia...” Crow's words stopped. He was gripping his hands into tightly clenched fists, trying hard to flex the muscles so that his words would stop. It didn't slow them down long. “I caused it.”

Slowly, Will's head lifted up. With tears streaking down his cheeks, and his nose darker-- Crow could tell the crying face without colors. Will's lips parted as he grew a hint of a testing look. “You... what?”

“I took your dad's memories-- of your mom.” Crow answered, the words practically falling out of his throat. A smile was forced onto his face, and a laugh choked out. “He came to me and said he wanted to forget all that pain. What was the point-- to live with such immense pain? So I reached in,” Crow pantomimed reaching his hand forward and grasped at the air, “And took all of them.” He made his hand a fist and jerked his arm back to his body. “Every last memory of Lae'ri.” He smiled briefly again, an airy laugh coming out. “And cause,” another laugh, “You're her son, he can't remember you, too! So by extension, you were ripped out just as violently.”

Will's brows tensed, his lip quivered and for a moment he just stared at Crow like he couldn't believe it. He'd been hit by a truck. Smacked real hard. No words were coming. No thoughts were forming. Was he even breathing? Will couldn't feel any air coming into his lungs. That nauseous feeling welled up stronger. He grew dizzy. The throbbing on his head pounded so hard it hurt. Will grabbed at his forehead, feeling himself lean over. That didn't help. He turned to the door, grabbing at the doorstop with his free hand, and led himself out of the room. He left looked like a seasick man trying to find his way up the deck to throw-up.

Crow's jaw shook with frustration. He tried to shout something after Will. An apology, anything. Not a single sound came. His throat was being held fast. Frustrated, Crow fell to his knees and slammed both of his fists down in front of him. Finally a word jerked out of his throat. “Damn!”

Crow jerked up suddenly, sliding away from his spot on the floor when he felt a little hand tug at his wild and curly hair. He stared up with wild eyes at the little boy before him. Alexander was there. He had never left. He heard the whole thing.

“Why did you say that?” Alexander asked. “Why was daddy mad? Why did Will leave? Why did he cry?” Alexander tilted his head, his eyes staring down at Crow with that same intense curiosity that Will's reflected.

Crow gawked at the child. He had no words of his own now, no answers to cling to.

“Why are you crying?”

Crow's eyes widened. He lifted his hand and felt his eye and then looked at his hand at the tears on his finger tips. He was crying. Crow sagged his head down, unable to look anywhere else. “I might aswell be dead.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm a jackass!” Crow shouted sharply.

“Why?”

“Because that stupid fuc....” Crow grit his teeth, unable to finish the curse. He let out a tense breath, looking up to Alexander's curious, worried face. “I took something... that I shouldn't have. And now, even if I put it back, it won't solve anything.”

“Put something else back.”

“Huh?” Crow stared at him. What silly logic. Put something else back. “I can't just--”

“Apologize.” Alexander said. He knelt down and picked up the lyre and held it out to Crow. “You made Will cry. You need to apologize.”

“He won't listen.” Crow shook his head, pushing away the lyre.

Alexander pushed it toward him again. “He will! He's a good listener!” Crow looked up to him. A smile grew on the little boy's face. “Can't you try?”

“I can't.” Crow shook his head, looking away. “I'll be dead before I even get out of this room.”

“But...” Alexander frowned. “I thought you were his friend,” he said softly, his arm dropping and the lyre fell to the floor.

Crow shook his head. “I'm not. I'm a bad-guy. I lied to him.”

“To me?”

Crow nodded.

“How come?”

“It... was all I could do.” Crow answered quietly. He sighed heavily, looking at the lyre. “I'm sorry, kid.”

Alexander turned and walked away, leaving the room. “Say sorry to Will!” Though Alexander's voice was broken and hurt, Crow could tell that the little boy was saying it because he was concerned for Will.

Crow sighed again, looking to the lyre. He makes it sound like it's a piece of cake.

Meanwhile, Will had hobbled his way down the hall, around and down the stairs, outside into the rain again and uneasily walked down the path. At the gate a horse-drawn carriage stopped him. The footman jumped down, opened the door and urged Will inside. Will sat on one bench across from the other. He still looked pale and sick, with a few tears coming down his face.

The man inside, Rhys, gawked at him. “What... happened?” Will shook his head, not wanting to answer. “Did Adell...?” Will shook his head again. “Then who?”

“I just wanna leave.” Will answered.

Rhys nodded, a surprised look on his face. He called out to the driver. “Back to the palace!” Will sunk into the back of the carriage, looking out the window as the rain hit the glass slowly. It was a short ride, but was long enough for Rhys to ask one more question near the end. “Did Crow hurt you?”

Will smiled a bit, a light laugh coming from his mouth. He shook his head, still looking out the window with an empty stare. “A slave perfect for sex doesn't get to feel pain.”

Rhys face was shocked and saddened. “Who... called you a sex slave?”

“My dad.”

“What!?”

“And the little bird tried to defend me.” Will answered, his voice quiet and raspy. His words almost didn't even come out.

“Are you okay?” Rhys asked, leaning forward to touch Will's brow.

Will leaned his head away before Rhys could touch him. “I'm tired of this. I don't want to feel anything anymore.”

Rhys leaned back, frowning at his godson. “What'll you do?”

Will stared out the window, with no expression on his face. When the carriage stopped, Will answered, his fingernail tracing a raindrop down the glass slowly. “I'll just forget it all happened.”

Will's eyes looked up to the dark sky. If he refused to live with the pain of her death, then why should I bear it? Why should I have to live with the memory of being his son? And why should I have to live with these chaotic emotions towards another guy? I don't see the point of it anymore.

Rhys got out of the carriage and turned back to look at Will, who hadn't moved. “You know.... I've got some really bad memories that keep me up at night. Sometimes, I'm afraid to sleep at all.” Will didn't move. “But I'd rather live with that pain, then the empty void of them missing.”

Will moved his eyes a bit to look after Rhys, but the king was gone. He sighed a bit, looking out of the window again. “You don't get it.” Will said to the empty carriage. “I'm not going there to get my memories taken out.” His eyes thinned. “I'm going there to get some back. Matéas.”

Without moving, Will could see as a dark purple smog started to fill the carriage the area around it. It felt warm and sicking. He could feel the blood slipping down the back of his neck from his wound.

A haunting laugh surrounded him. “Your blood smells sweet. Perhaps that bird wants to eat you.”

“Open the way to the Threshold.” Will ordered.

Another laugh, “And why should I listen?”

“Because I'm gonna win this game.”

“And after that?” he asked Will. “What will be your spoils of war?”

Will smiled a bit, looking at his reflection in the glass. “Wouldn't you like to know?”
:excited:
© 2012 - 2024 NostalgicRoxas
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In