sempiternals | How could your heart be stolen by a human?

If she loves you, that's what matters. But if there's something still weighing heavy in your heart, well, she's your mom...

( A concept Wriothesley never became familiarized with. He looks away and his arms cross. He only ever fell for a beautiful lie in the shape of a family and a normal childhood is something well out of his understanding or reach.

He can trust himself, though. His attraction for Kaveh is real and burning but the bigger issue is dormant beneath every nuance. The closer one gets, the more difficult Wriothesley makes it for them to walk through open doors.

Of course, his concern about Kaveh's safety is also well intended. Especially his freedom. )

Are you alright? If you want to get some rest, I'll go ahead and get my mattress. Or I can always make us some tea.

[ She is his mom... but that doesn't make it any easier. He's not really sure what he's meant to say— but it seems like Wriothesley is done anyway, turning away with his arms over his chest

and Kaveh wonders what his family is like (was like? before this place?), but he doesn't ask. If the Duke wanted him to know, he'd tell him. And so he's quiet for a moment, just kind of hovering in place, not sure what to say or do.

Then the question comes, and he thinks it through before nodding slowly. ]

I'm feeling okay right now. More shaken than anything else. So.. tea would be nice, please. If you don't mind. I think it might help me settle my nerves.

( He got along well with all his siblings during those times, but he doesn’t make it a goal to ever reconnect with any other survivors. The past is long gone and as dead as everyone. Wriothesley nods at him, going on to an area on his room where a small kitchen was fitted. It’s only one stove, specifically for his tea addiction. He fills the kettle with water and it starts to boil. It takes a few minutes so he returns to Kaveh’s side. )

You’re not hurting still, are you?

( Plenty of ways that question can land, though. Wriothesley doesn’t mind talking more if Kaveh wishes. )

[ The question is an interesting one that Kaveh doesn't quite know how to parse. Emotionally? Yes, he's hurting still. He's pretty much always hurting. But that's about the most dramatic thing Kaveh could say, so he doesn't say it. Physically?

...Mm, he's hurting still, just a little.

He smiles at Wriothesley. ]

Just a little. The cream you put on it helped a lot though.

[ A pause, as his teeth worry at his lower lip. ]

I'm sorry, by the way. For dumping all that on you. I don't usually tell people, actually— my roommate's the only person who knows the full story. But I just... thought maybe it would help you understand me— some of the stupid things I do, or the things that upset me.

Edited 2024-01-18 20:50 (UTC)

( Wriothesley appears pensive as Kaveh tries to backtrack his words or apologize for them. Perhaps that’s one of the behaviors he came to learn as time kept ripping open existing wounds. He’d bring him into his arms for comfort if he didn’t fear putting him in a position that would bring him more pain. He’s been through so much in just a few days. )

You don’t have to apologize. I’m glad you told me, Kaveh.

It helps getting to know you, and ultimately it’s what I want.

I don’t know if I won’t end up saying the wrong thing to you in the future, or something.

Ever thought of doing some self healing? Anything at all, that helps deal the weight of that feeling be just a little less.

[ And so for a moment or so, the two of them just stand there. Kaveh can practically feel in the room the urge Wriothesley has to just hold him— but also the way he restrains himself, not allowing it to be what he wants it to be.

(Or maybe even that is just wishful thinking.)

When the answer comes, though, he smiles again, something in his gaze that is somehow both wistful and thankful at the same time. ]

It's okay if you say the wrong thing. You can't know the answer to every situation, and I know that. But... if I do have a bad reaction, I guess... now you'll get it, at least. I know I sometimes act kinda crazy.

[ And then, a tilt of his head. He's a smart man, but this is a topic he doesn't really understand— ]

Self healing?

( His self control is stronger than the foundation of the Fortress itself… until it isn’t. He’s undoubtedly more comfortable around Kaveh, and he’s comfortable thinking about him or what he wants to do to him. Who knows when the ideas will come to face reality.

Once the kettle hisses he goes to fill both their cups with one of his favorites teas. He sets Kaveh’s cup down on his desk to let it cool, and he blows over his own, sipping confidently. )

Everyone has crazy in them, not that it makes it any easier to handle in the moment.

You know. Like picking up a hobby to get your mind off of things, or meditate to focus on the present rather than the past. It could help you navigate your emotions.

( He reads a lot… )

[ He's quiet for a moment. Meditation is something he's heard of, with many scholars in the Akademiya espousing its merits. But he's never tried. He sees himself as someone far too busy to spend time doing nothing but breathing, as nice as the whole thing sounds—

But now? He has plenty of time, his chest hurts, and trying to blank out his thoughts for a little sounds much more preferable to thinking about the fact that someone just attacked him, wanting him dead.

He picks up his tea, blowing at it a little before sipping, and then putting it back down quietly. ]

I've never meditated before, but... I like the idea. Would you guide me?

( It could be challenging teaching something like meditation to a person so full of thoughts. If Kaveh’s behavior is anything to go by, at least. )

I had a lot of time to find new ideas and hobbies while I was an inmate.

Come here.

( He offers his hand for Kaveh to take, ultimately leading him on top of the bed to sit crossed legged in front of one another. He’s aware he’s opening up a window to allow Kaveh to theorize about his life. He looks at him in the eye, then down to take both his hands in his. )

Close your eyes and take a deep breath.

[ While he was an— To his credit, Kaveh manages to keep his expression straight, but he's admittedly a little taken aback. He's heard the rumors about Wriothesley from time to time, but most people don't like to gossip about the Duke, and confirming their veracity has been difficult.

He wonders what the other man did in the first place, how he ended up moving from inmate to lord and warden, and—

Come here, Wriothesley says, and Kaveh obeys, chasing the wondering out of his thoughts for now.

Maybe he'll be brave enough to ask later.

He moves to sit on the bed opposite the other, mimicking his pose and accepting his hands. Then, with a nod, he closes his eyes, and takes in a single, deep breath. ]

( One could pin his resume on the trajectory of fate. It weren't for the corruption he wouldn't have made certain decisions, right? Extreme, but he'll stand behind them to this day.

Kaveh's hands tie him to the moment, which is ultimately the purpose of the exercise. His hands are warm on his and admittedly, he can feel less tense about sharing moments like this with him since he's not having to hide anymore. He peeks at Kaveh to make sure his eyes are closed and smiles before closing his again. )

Now picture a blank canvas. Nothing else, and then think of the things in this room to fill it up.

Maybe it's the buzz of the lights. Or the dripping in the distance. Maybe even how cold it is. What do you like about it?

Edited 2024-01-21 06:27 (UTC)

[ A blank canvas. That's easy. He's seen many of those. And then— things in this room to fill it? That's even easier. He was just looking around it a moment ago. His architect's brain remembers where things go: the bed, the chair, the side-table, the door to the bathroom. But Wriothesley mentions sounds too, and sensations like temperature, and Kaveh finds a soft hum on his lips as they get added to the mental picture. The soft non-sound of the ocean waves around them. The rhythmic, electric buzzing of the lights. The cold— it could stand to be warmer a few degrees, and this is his canvas, so now it is. And—

What does he like? ]

The scent. [ He answers the question without thought, his eyes closed and his mind still focused on the version of this room that he's building for himself. ] I like the scent of the room. It's like... [ he chuckles ] it's like tea, but also... kinda musky, crisp like a cool winter's morning. It's refreshing, and comforting.

( He hopes meditation like this on a daily basis might help Kaveh put him in the present rather than the past, not that he's a doctor or anything. He has spoken with plenty of scholars who studied various topics from Sumeru. It did help him in the beginning, at least.

His thumb dabs over Kaveh's hand, involuntarily caressing it. He opens one eye to spy on him as he speaks, too curious about the expression on his face. The room is truly concentrated in Wriothesley. His lifestyle, his scent, the crispness of the shampoo he uses specific to compliment his masculinity, his bed sheets, his flesh.

There's a lot he needs to accomplish tonight. Like killing Mael. His eye closes. )

What else do you like? You know, like the furniture.

[ What else... honestly, the scent is the first thing he really notices, if he's honest. It wraps around him like something meant for him, something to keep him safe. But Wriothesley is seeking more than just one sense. He wants all of them, right? Another hum, as Kaveh's senses dance over the room in his mind. ]

The furniture is nice. The couch is a good size and very comfortable. There's a rug— hm, it's kind of out of place with everything else, actually... that brilliant green is more Sumerian in style than Fontaine. It's pretty by itself but it doesn't match the rest of the room—

[ Sight. ]

I like how quiet it is. There are some pipes dripping, yeah, but overall there's this feeling of just being... deep, deep down. You can feel the ocean around us more than hear it, but I imagine I can hear the water lapping against the metal out there. I used to find it scary, but there's something peaceful about it.

[ Sound. ]

( For the most part, Kaveh’s attention to detail is impeccable. Wriothesley’s smile somewhat wanes when Kaveh touches on a style no where seen in his room, thought. He even opens his eyes to glance down. It’s very much a rug he received from Neuvillette. One that was to be replaced back in the Palais Mermonia.

He thinks nothing of it now.

Every other sense Kaveh delves into is another reason why he should stay here. Proof the bird can be caged after all. )

Take a deep breath now and let the sounds and feelings wash over you. You know, as if you were sitting on a beach. Nothing else matters, just the peace of the moment.

[ Another deep breath, and Kaveh falls silent, following Wriothesley's lead again and allowing himself to sink into those sounds, those feelings, those senses, until he barely even feels the gentle hold Wriothesley has on his hands anymore, until everything around him is the room he's put together on this canvas: a tapestry of things that just a few short weeks ago seemed strange and foreign, and now serve to bring him comfort.

Like this, they wash over him, his eyes closed in gentle content, and he doesn't even realize it but there's a smile on his face as he's wrapped in the sensations, as the soft sounds and scents and images blanket him and keep him safe. ]

This is nice. [ His voice is soft and dreamy, the same as his smile. ]

( Behind his teasing, poker face, or even flattery, Wriothesley is intuitive and thinking so of course he's able to read Kaveh later this far into their friendship. Everything he describes circles back to something undeniable and tragic, and he's not alone. Wriothesley is just better at keeping to himself.

His sudden yearn to feel Kaveh's dreamy smile on his lips, for example. Or when he thinks about how Kaveh manages to hold onto his uniqueness when surrounded by the unforgiving rust within the prison. Despite all his troubles, Kaveh is resilient to the way this scent seeps into the bones of others. )

Mm. I agree. As you get better, you can choose your favorite type of blank canvas to relax or feel less stressed.

Giving an architect a blank canvas is a dangerous thing, Your Grace.

[ He may have chosen to use Wriothesley's title instead of his name, but there's a playful smile tugging at the corners of that dreamy expression that shows it's meant in jest, along with the rest of his words. In the calm, peaceful state he's in, it's easier for Kaveh to just enjoy himself, to make jokes, to be a little silly.

But he's still all-over soft and sweet and calm as he squeezes the older man's hands in his. ]

Thank you for this.

Is it? Guess I like living on the edge.
( The humor is gladly encouraged under this roof, necessary even. Besides, this also means the mental exercise might have worked, easing off the trauma of having Mael put a gash across his chest.

He squeezes Kaveh's hands in return, looking down at them. They do complement one another, both carry so many stories in them invisible to others. Kaveh is the right shade of sun-kissed despite living here a few weeks now. )

It's my pleasure. You should get some rest, Kaveh. I have some reports to fill out and get some work done. It's getting late.

[ He wants to protest, but after that mental excursion he actually is quite tired, and so he nods, another squeeze of Wriothesley's hands before he moves to get ready for bed. He remembers as he lies down that he should offer to help the other set up the mattress, at least, but the moment his head touches the pillow, he's out, lost to the world of dreams.

When he wakes from one of them in a cold sweat, the horror still resonating in his mind even as it fades, it's hours later. (How he can tell that, he's not sure, but somehow he knows, the same way he's started to learn to wake with the sun despite not being able to see it from the ocean's depths.) The room is dark, the mattress still not on the floor, and Wriothesley is nowhere to be found— the only sense of life other than himself is the thin band of light from behind the bathroom door.

It feels like he's still locked in the nightmare,

but Kaveh gets up, moves over to the metal door and presses his weight just so against it, a small rap of his knuckles. ]

Wriothesley?

( It doesn’t take long for Wriothesley to slip out into the silent hallways of the Fortress after curfew. Finding Mael isn’t difficult but it is after he’s found in his room like a good, loyal inmate that everything in Wriothesley mind numbs and phases out.

Mael’s feet struggle to keep himself up as Wriothesley drags him to a hidden area in the Fortress where nobody can hear. He’s spitting taunts at him without realizing what Wriothesley is truly capable of.

“I warned you, so now I have no choice but to personally extend your sentence here. How does forever sound?”

He adjusts a gauntlet and perks a brow up at him, joking even now despite the ugliness staining his clean streak since that fateful night. Perhaps his hands will never be clean, but he can’t allow this man to keep putting his esteemed guest at risk.

Mael’s screams are grueling when he finally realizes it, and he tries to run off between old, rusting pipes, begging, crying.

It ends quick, though. Wriothesley wouldn’t want to torment him or torture him, even if it’s what he should deserve. A sludge of blood stretches underneath Mael’s body, seeping underneath the crevasses in the soles of his boots.

“You left me no other choice. Good night.”

It takes a few hours to clean everything in the scene and dispose of his body in one of the factory furnaces.

Then he locks himself in his bathroom to finish cleaning himself and any splatter of blood left on his face or his neck. He undresses fully to shower, but he ends up sitting down on the shower floor as everything steams over.

And so, he meditates long enough until he hears Kaveh’s voice. He flinches at first, rising up and grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist.

There was no time for Mael to struggle, so Wriothesley doesn’t look any different save for the distance in his eyes, lost once he opens the door to greet Kaveh. The recovery is steady, and it’s as though he’s once again putting on his mask. )

Did I wake you up?

[ Kaveh is confused enough that his immediate reaction to Wriothesley's question is to blink and shake his head, an admission on his lips that he'd usually make at least some attempt to hide— ] No, you didn't; I had a nightmare, that's all, [ —followed immediately by a soft, wondering question: ] You never came to bed.

[ He doesn't mean it quite as it sounds. The mattress isn't out. The room is dark, and he was alone inside it while Wriothesley sat in here, apparently in the shower

(and for a long time, if the steam billowing out into the main room has anything to say about it).

There's the look in his eyes too, something very briefly wrong that flickers and disappears as their gazes meet, continues fading into nothing at all as the moments stretch. But Kaveh wouldn't be who is is if he didn't worry about everything all the time, and so after a moment he puts a single, cautious hand on the other's forearm. ]

Is something wrong? Are you... is everything alright?

[ His voice, still mostly asleep, is edged with gentle concern as he blinks up at the other. ]

What kind of nightmare?

( He could use the distraction as he stands there dripping in the water and letting steam out into the bedroom. His hands feel heavy and cold despite that, and even the scars on his neck feel tender and sore. Just like the wounds from that night as he laid handcuffed to the hospital bed. )

I was catching up on some work, that’s all. I lost track of the time.

( He can’t stop himself from what’s to come. If Kaveh leaves him when the truth ultimately comes out because he knows it always will.

Perhaps this would be the last time he can hold onto him while Kaveh has the best idea of Wriothesley in his head. So he glances down as Kaveh touches him, then he loops his arms over his shoulder for a hug. He’s careful with him and his wound, applying enough pressure so he can hide his face from him. )

Let me get dressed, then we can sleep all day. How’s that sound?

[ He shakes his head. ]

I don't wanna talk about it. [ That gruesome, mocking face echoes in his mind, and he shakes it off, trying to focus on the other man and not on those images that won't leave him alone. ] It's over now anyway.

[ More than he even realizes.

What comes next though makes him yelp, start to laugh despite the somber mood souring the air around and between the two of them. ]

Wriothesley! You're dripping on me!

[ But he doesn't pull away; instead, he wraps both arms around him in turn, pressing his face into the older man's chest and just breathing him in, allowing that presence to calm him, to chase the last remnants of the dream from his mind. ]

Mm... all day, huh? I'd like that a lot. [ A pause, a short exhale of breath against the other's skin. ] ...Will you share the bed with me again? Just— like this?

( He doesn’t press him for the details, instead he keeps a steady hold on him as his gaze is lost further out into the large window and past the ship in the distance. Kaveh feels warm against his body cooling between the edge of steam and the iciness of the metal floor below their feet.

He manages to get a low laugh under his breath, tilting his chin into Kaveh’s neck in a bit of a crouch. His eyes close peacefully despite the haunting era that is about to dawn on him.

Kaveh’s breathing is sweet against his wet chest, and the idea of clothes suddenly feel distant, too. He could just wear Kaveh and smother him as he, too, chases off the sound of Mael begging for life. )

Sounds good to me.

( He pulls back to look down into his eyes, before he slips past him. A trail of wet footprints is left across his room and on the circular rug until he slips carefully into his bed. He adjusts slightly to ensure the towel stays wrapped around his waist.

Sure, he’s awake he’s enabling Kaveh to go back against his own word, breaking off the boundary previously set. But to sleep next to him like this, tangling their legs and inching closer than ever is the dream he’s in need of. )

Is this alright with you?

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