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tw: (view spoiler)
𝓓𝓻𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓓𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓻𝓸𝓲𝔁
⠀⠀
Draven gripped the edges of his book so tightly his knuckles began to go white. He couldn't focus on reading. He couldn’t focus on anything but the sounds coming from across the hall. He wished he could block them out. He wished he was brave enough to do something. But what good would that do anyway? So, he waited. He waited until he heard Father go downstairs.
He set his book down, and crept across his room. The door was unlocked. He let out a sigh of relief. The last time he had been punished, Mother had locked Elliot in his room so he couldn’t help, and he had worried that maybe it would be the new method. After all, he always helped Elliot too. Although, he supposed he was… less obvious about it. He peered out into the hall to check that the coast was clear, before sneaking downstairs as quietly as possible, and stealing some medical supplies, then hurried silently upstairs. Thankfully, he didn’t run into either of their parents. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened if he had.
He sucked in a deep breath, before testing the handle of Elliot’s door. Unlocked. Did they not think Draven would help his brother? Or were they actually fine with it? He pushed the door open. “Elliot?”
Elliot was lying face down on his bed. He turned his head to face Draven. “Draven, you shouldn’t be in here.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know you aren’t supposed to - ”
“Does that ever stop me?” Draven shut the door, and padded across the floor. “Alright, where?” But he didn’t need an answer. No sooner had he asked the question, then his eyes landed on the blood stains spreading on the back of Elliot’s white shirt. Oh, that was… bad. Father must have been furious. But he hadn’t even seen it yet. He approached the bed, and set down the supplies. “Alright, you’re going to have to take your shirt off.”
Elliot pushed himself up with a slight hiss, and gingerly pulled off his shirt. “You don’t have to - ”
“We always do this for each other. I’m not going to stop.” He had no intention of ever stopping. Yes, the thought of the potential consequences scared him, but he wasn’t such a coward that he couldn’t at least help his brother after he had been hurt. If he were braver maybe he would have tried to stop it in the first place. Or maybe that would just be stupid. It would likely only result in them both lying in bed like this.
“I don’t have to do this for you as often as I used to. You don’t get punished as much anymore, so you?”
Draven wasn’t sure how to take that. “They wouldn’t punish you as much if you didn’t go out of your way to provoke them.”
“Not interested.” Elliot dropped back down onto his stomach.
Draven got to work cleaning up his back. “You should be,” he muttered.
“No, I am not into pleasing such horrible people.”
Draven started unraveling a roll of bandages. “I need to get better at healing.” He focused mostly on evocation in Cogworks, but he sometimes wondered if he should have chosen to work more on transmutation instead. Transmutation was father’s specialty, and he made good use of it when he got angry. “Even if you don’t want to please them… that doesn’t mean you have to do everything in your power to upset them.”
“Why are you upset? It doesn’t make anything worse for you.”
So, that was what he thought? He didn’t realize, then, all the pressure Draven was always under, because their parents had given up on Elliot. The punishments that were actually more of a warning to not be like Elliot than a punishment for anything he had actually done. Draven wanted to say something. He wanted to tell him how horrible it all was, how much he hated it. How it was his fault. But could he really be that selfish? Elliot was the one bleeding. His hands trembled a little as he cut the bandage. He drew in a deep breath, and slowly let it out.
“Draven?” Elliot asked, voice muffled by his pillow.
“Yes?”
“Are you alright?”
Elliot should not be the one asking that. “Of course I am. I just… I don’t like to see you get hurt,” he whispered. A part of him almost felt that admitting that was worse than venting his anger. But it was true. Completely true. This… he hated this.
“We could leave.”
Draven froze. “Leave?”
Elliot raised his head, and looked over his shoulder at him, hair obscuring his face. “Yes, leave. The two of us. We could just… run away together.”
Dieu, what was he thinking? They had talked of running away together before, but that had been when they were little. They were too old for such childish plans. “Run away?” Was he only capable of echoing Elliot, now?
“Yeah, why not?” Elliot pushed himself up further. “We could do it, Dray. I know we could.”
For just a moment, Draven thought about how wonderful it could be if it were just him and Elliot. He loved his parents, he wanted them to love him back, he wanted to make them proud, but sometimes it felt so impossible. Honestly, he knew, deep down, that he would probably never earn their love. He couldn’t understand it. If he could still love them after everything they had done to him, done to Elliot, what was it about him that they couldn’t love? Elliot always said that it was their parents that something was wrong with. And maybe he was right, because they also didn’t love Elliot. Unless they did. But if he was away from them… it would be… well, he couldn’t help but feel that it would be nice. Because, yes, he loved his parents. But he loved Elliot more. He loved Elliot more than anything in the world.
But he couldn’t leave with him. He couldn't, and he knew it. He had his duty to fulfill. Elliot was all but disowned anyway, probably would be once he turned eighteen, which was less than a year away now. If he ran away, it wouldn’t be a problem. But their parents needed an heir. He knew they didn’t want to pass the title down to Lala. They wanted a child of their own as an heir. Both of them running away wasn’t an option.
Besides, he didn’t even know who he was if he wasn’t the perfect son, the perfect heir. Well, as perfect as he could get, which was never quite close enough. Maybe leaving would help him find out, but what if he turned out to truly be like their parents after all? What if Elliot grew to regret taking him with him?
“You shouldn’t make such stupid suggestions.”
“Stupid?” Elliot pushed himself into a sitting position. “Stupid? You think us running away together would be stupid?”
“Yes, I do.”
“You don’t have to be scared, Draven,” Elliot said quietly. “I would protect you.”
Merde, Draven was going to cry. He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t. How many times had he been told that he couldn’t? By Father, by Mother, by Elliot? Crying was weak, and it never solved anything. He had thought he was getting better at keeping himself from crying. He just had to lock all his emotions away like Elliot had told him. Not that Elliot seemed too pleased with the results half the time. Always telling Draven he was too emotionless. Well, he certainly wasn’t emotionless now, but he wished he were. Elliot had always protected him. Always been there for him. But lately - no, not just lately, for years - they had been drifting apart. Besides, Ellliot couldn’t protect him from everything.
“I’m not scared. I don’t want to leave.”
“Draven - ”
“I’m happy here, Elliot, this is where I belong.”
“No, it isn’t. You’re… you’re hardly ever even yourself, anymore, Draven. This house, this family, it’s killing you, can’t you see that?”
“No, it isn’t. This is who I am.”
“An extension of Mother and Father? That’s who you are? Because that’s what you’re turning into, Draven. Half the time I could swear you don’t even have a personality anymore.”
“Oh please, I am very much my own person.”
“No, you’re not. Not if you - “
“Have you ever thought that maybe I just really am like them?”
“No. No, because the brother I grew up with wasn’t - ”
“People change, Elliot.” At least he wasn’t crying. Although he might start if he didn’t get the hell out of here soon. He held up the bandage and took a step toward Elliot, who ripped it out of his hands.
“I can do that myself.”
“Elliot - ” He didn’t know what to do, what to say. He wanted to be close with Elliot the way they were when they were little. But Elliot made that impossible. Draven couldn’t just run off and abandon his duty. And hope against hope that they wouldn't find him and drag him back, and make his life more miserable than ever. Which they would. He knew they would if he dared to try.
“Get out.”
He had ruined it again. Just like he always ruined everything. And now who knew when they would get another chance. He just wanted to fix their relationship, so why did he ruin it every time he had even the slightest opportunity? He turned on his heel, and strode to the door. He froze with his hand on the knob. “I’m sorry,” he said, just under his breath.
“For what?” Elliot demanded.
Draven hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. Elliot hadn’t even started to try to bandage himself yet. Draven wanted to stay, to insist that he help. But Elliot didn’t want him here. He… he didn’t have an answer. I’m sorry he signed, before heading out the door.
tw: (view spoiler)
⠀⠀
Draven hated dogs. Well, maybe hate was a strong word, but they scared him. It was ridiculous, he knew. They shouldn’t. He tried so hard to keep his fear in check. Which was usually easy. He didn’t go running anymore - although, granted, that was mostly because he had realized that running was one of the worst things you could do. He could hide fear as well as any other emotion. He still felt it, but no one had to know that.
But how was he supposed to be prepared for a bunch of dogs to come running into the ballroom? In the middle of a ball, no less? He was used to Elliot pulling pranks during these things, of course. He almost never failed to. Draven wasn’t sure why, when he was always punished for it, but that was Elliot for you. Reckless and rebellious with apparently no sense of self-preservation. Draven used to think he was brave - still did, in a lot of ways - but there was a line between courage and stupidity, and Elliot used that line as a jump rope.
Elliot was brave, yes, but he was also an idiot. Still, this… this felt like betrayal. Because Elliot knew how he felt about dogs.
It wasn’t like Draven was the only one they had scared. Several people had screamed. That was how he had first realized something was wrong. A high-pitched shriek had come from across the room, and he had looked over to find several dogs running through, tracking muddy pawprints on the polished wooden dance floor. Chaos ensued, as Draven panicked, wondering whether he should try to get out of there.
He was still panicking, as several servants rounded up the dogs. But now it was less about the dogs, and more about the look Mother had given him. Because Mother also knew about his fear, and she had been sure to gauge his reaction. Before, maybe she would have overlooked his lack of emotional control in light of Elliot’s outright rebellion. But Draven knew better than to expect that now. He was supposed to be the perfect son. He may be the spare, only needed in case of emergencies, but Elliot, it seemed, was an emergency. Draven had to be prepared to be the heir if Elliot couldn't be brought to reason.
He was growing increasingly worried that Elliot would not be brought to reason.
So, showing fear wasn’t an option. Nevermind that he wasn’t the only one. He was pretty sure he was the only one having an actual panic attack, though, so, really, the fact that others had been scared - or maybe just surprised - was irrelevant.
“Draven? Draven?”
He blinked, sucking in air as best he could, and looked over at Alex.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Alex asked.
Draven opened his mouth, but couldn’t seem to get enough breath to speak.
“Come on.” Alex reached out, hesitating a moment, before slowly taking Draven’s arm. Draven wanted to tell him he didn’t have to be so gentle with him, but talking didn’t seem possible just yet. Alex tugged him through the crowd, and out into the hall.
Draven collapsed against a wall, then sank down to the floor. He shouldn't be out here. He just needed a minute. One minute, and then he’d go back.
“Just breathe.”
Oh, excellent advice. Draven was trying to breathe.
“Hey, your brother’s an idiot, we both know that,” Alex said.
Draven managed a shaky smile, forcing his gaze onto Alex, who had crouched in front of him. He ran his fingers over the floor, trying to ground himself.
The thing was, thinking about Elliot hurt. All their lives, he would have been where Alex was now. He had always been there for Draven when he started panicking. Talking him through it, finding a way to make him smile. He had probably been the sole reason Draven hadn’t passed out on several occasions. And obviously, the less time they spent together, the less times he was there when Draven really needed him. But now, this time, he was the cause of his panic, and Draven wanted to know how he could have gone through with this particular prank. He choked back a sob.
“I mean, to be fair, that ball was absolutely boring. And, hey, they ruined Elissa Leclaire’s dress, so I call that a win.” Alex laughed. Draven was one of the only people who knew that Elissa Leclaire was Alex’s biological mother. The Calicoes and Leclaires had done an excellent job hiding the scandal of Alex’s birth, but he had learned the truth about a year ago, and at some point, had decided to confide in Draven. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the complications of Alex’s opinions on his parents since learning the truth. But he could tell there was plenty of anger there. “But, Elliot’s still an idiot, of course. I wonder what Isely thought. Maybe I should go get her.”
Draven would love to see Isely, of course, but if Alex left to get her, he’d be alone, and - “No, stay.” Merde, he should not have said that. He bit down on his tongue, but it was too late.
“Of course.”
Draven wrapped his arms around his legs, feeling like an idiot. “Sorry,” he murmured.
“For what?”
Draven looked up at Alex, not sure how to reply.
“You apologize way too much, Draven.”
Did he? Draven tried to think about it. He was pretty unapologetic when it came to all the kids he bullied in school, and Alex had to know that. But maybe, around people he cared about… Well, maybe it was just habit. It was usually just with his parents, but sometimes with Elliot, or Alex or Isely… Well, maybe Alex had a point. But…
“Do you even know what you’re apologizing about this time?”
“Everything.” That sounded pathetic.
Alex stared at him. “I can’t think of anything you need to apologize for here. Elliot was the one who let the dogs in, he’s the one who needs to apologize.” His eyes lit up. “Think I should plant a firework in his room, give him a taste of his own medicine?”
“No, don’t.” Elliot would get punishment enough from their parents, he couldn’t imagine adding to it.
“Alright, if you say so. But it would be pretty poetic, you have to agree.”
“Poetic?”
“Well, ironic. He loves his fireworks. Irony and poetry go together, don’t they?”
Draven shook his head. “Why are you asking me?”
“Um, because you’re a poet?”
“I am not.”
“What do you call someone who writes poetry?”
Draven rolled his eyes. “My poetry is horrible.”
“Even if that’s true, it still exists, so, therefore, you’re a poet.”
“Whatever.” But he felt better now. Not great, but better. His breath was coming almost normally.
Alex sat back on his heels. “Do you wanna go raid the kitchen? Go outside? Have a smoke?”
Draven gave him a pointed look. “I’m not hungry, and I don’t smoke. You shouldn’t, either.” He’ been getting onto Alex about smoking since he started. And no doubt Alex only brought it up to annoy him.
“I’ll be fine. You worry too much.”
Draven couldn’t deny that getting some fresh air might be nice. But… He glanced back toward the ballroom. He needed to get back. Staying away was only probably going to result in making the consequences of his breakdown worse. Then again, returning while still showing signs of weakness would be even worse. “I’ll go outside if you promise not to smoke.”
“Excuse me?”
“All that smoke would make it hard to breathe.”
Alex narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare try guilt-tripping me.”
Draven smiled innocently. “Never.”
Alex shook his head, but stood, and offered a hand. After a moment of hesitation, Draven took it, and let Alex haul him to his feet.
“Is this an agreement not to smoke?”
“I’m not quitting, if that’s what you’re thinking, but I’ll try to refrain tonight.”
Draven smirked.
“Come on,” Alex pulled him down the hall.
Once outside, Draven let out a sigh of relief. The fresh air was nice. Not to mention it was much cooler out here than in the crowded ballroom, or even the hall. He looked up at the nighttime sky, and drew in a deep breath. “I can’t stay out here for long.”
“I know.” Alex crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you sure I can’t smoke?”
“Do you want to deprive me of this lovely fresh air?”
“There’s plenty of fresh air, I’m not going to contaminate all of Lux by smoking one cigarette.”
“You’ll contaminate your lungs, and mine.”
“Prat.” Alex smiled. “Well, I like it better out here, anyway.”
Draven did too. For the record, he did like balls. Really, he generally did. But there was always the stress of being perfect, and Elliot managing to ruin everything. And tonight’s prank had just been too far. He loosened his tie. “We used to sneak out of balls all the time.”
“Yeah. Still do. At least I do. You should join me more often.”
“I can’t.” He tugged his jacket back into place. “I really shouldn’t even be out here now.”
“You need to take a break, catch your breath.” Alex’s face took on that look it got when he was thinking. “Your parents have to understand that, right?”
Draven really didn’t want to talk about his parents. They were going to be so furious with him. He felt slightly sick, thinking about it. Or maybe that was just the aftereffects of the panic attack. Either way, he should really get back inside. He fixed his tie. “I need to go.”
“Already?”
Draven turned to face Alex. “Do I look..?”
“You look fine. But… do you feel fine?”
Fine wasn’t even that strong of a word. No lying necessary. “Yes.” He smoothed his hair.
“I said you looked fine. Are you sure you can’t stay out a little longer?”
“I’m sure.”
“Alright, I’ll come in with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“No shit. I want to.”
Draven didn’t reply, just headed back inside.
The ballroom was still in a… state. But it was much better than when they had left. Mother swept up to him, black gown billowing around her. “There you are, Draven,” she said with a smile, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. Her nails dug into his skin, but he didn’t flinch. It was nothing, really. But he didn’t like that Alex was right there. “Alex,” Mother greeted him.
“Aunt Esmeralda.” Alex smiled, but it was a somewhat concerning smile, at least to Draven. Of course, most people could never tell what lurked beneath Alexander Calico’s sweet face.
“I believe your sister’s looking for you,” Mother said.
Alex seemed to hesitate. Draven flashed him a look that said Go. Alex’s eyes flicked from Draven to Mother, and back again.
“Go on,” Mother said.
Alex swallowed, then headed further into the room.
“Where the hell were you?” Mother hissed, low enough that only he could hear.
“I just went outside for a moment - ”
She clenched tighter. Draven wondered absently if she was digging deep enough to draw blood through all the layers of his suit. “You cannot show such weakness.”
“Yes, Maman.”
She gave his shoulder one last squeeze, before letting go. “Don’t do it again.” She swept across the room toward Uncle Eadric.
That was nothing. Draven knew his punishment was coming once the guests had left. Which would probably be soon, considering the turn the night had taken. But maybe he was wrong. Either way, he had to make it through the rest of the night without any more mistakes.
⠀⠀
Draven managed to get through the rest of the ball. He couldn’t quite lock down his fear as well as he would like, but he did his best to ignore it. He was the perfect noble son for the rest of the night, staying with Alex and Isely for the majority of it, which helped take his mind off of everything. But when he headed upstairs after the guests had left, and found Elliot sitting on the steps, a wave of anger hit him so hard it felt like it would knock him over. “How could you?” he demanded.
Elliot looked up at him. It was a bit hard to tell in the dark, but Draven was pretty sure his eyes, which had been alight with mischief, now seemed to falter. His smile dropped just the slightest bit. Or maybe Draven just imagined it. “I - ”
“Really, it’s not enough to ruin every single event - ”
Elliot shot to his feet. Draven flinched, taking a step down. It was just reflex, he knew Elliot would never hurt him. Then again, he hadn't thought him capable of tonight’s prank, either. But surely he wouldn’t. Elliot was the one who held him when he was hurt, who bandaged his wounds, and snuck him food, and told him everything would be alright. Or at least he used to be. It had been a while, really, since Elliot had truly comforted him. Then again, Draven had been doing well at pleasing their parents lately, and hence hadn’t been punished as much. But…
He missed his brother.
His brother, who had just let dogs into the ballroom, knowing full well he was terrified of them. Who hadn’t been there for him when he panicked, because he had been the cause of it. Well, to be entirely fair, as scared as he was of the dogs, the actual panic attack had been caused by Mother. But he wouldn’t have had to worry about that, if it weren’t for Elliot’s stupid prank. “You’re such a reckless, selfish - ”
“Selfish?” Elliot was furious now, Draven could tell. “Really? I’m selfish because what, I’m not exactly what Mother and Father want me to be?”
“You’re not even remotely what they want you to be.” Except a part of Draven felt that if Elliot would just listen to them, if he would just stop causing so much trouble, they might actually love him in a way they didn’t love Draven. “And you’re selfish, because, you knew - you knew - ”
Elliot hesitated, not a common occurrence.
“How could you?” Draven asked again. He placed a hand on the dark wooden banister.
“Why don’t you just shut up?” Elliot’s voice was rising. “You know I’ll be punished enough. Why can’t you be on my side here?”
“You knew. Couldn’t you have done something else?”
“It was a great prank. Perfect. And I'm sure they'll be up here any second to make me pay for it. Maybe you’re the selfish one.” Elliot crossed his arms, and leaned a shoulder against the wall.
They’ll make me pay, too. Maybe he was a coward. Elliot got punished more than he did, and never seemed scared about it. But Draven was scared. And not only that, but now everything he had done, all his progress in being all they wanted… he had to start over. At this rate he was never going to earn their approval, let alone their love.
Who was he kidding, they were never going to love him. At one point, he had thought they did, but he knew better now. Pathetic, really, that he had ever believed it. And with Elliot growing more and more distant, he was starting to wonder if maybe there was just something unlovable about him. Something… wrong.
“Oh, so you go through life thinking only about yourself, not caring - never considering - how your actions affect others, but I’m the selfish one?”
Elliot straightened up. “As if you don’t always put yourself first.”
“I have a sense of self-preservation.”
“Good for you.”
Footsteps sounded from downstairs. Draven winced, gripping the bannister.
Eliot glanced over Draven’s shoulder. “You should get into your room.”
Was he actually concerned? And if so, why? Because he really cared, or just out of a sense of obligation? Draven wasn’t sure why he had started doubting how much Elliot loved him, but… He’s just an idiot. “You should too.” In spite of everything, the last thing he wanted was for things to get even worse for Elliot.
Elliot just looked at him.
“Really. They’ll only be more angry if they find you out here. And I know you want them to be angry, but really, I think you’ve angered them enough tonight, and they are going to make you pay, so - ”
“I’m not a coward.”
“I know that. But sometimes you’re so stupid.”
Elliot laughed. “You’re the stupid one.”
“Really? Then how come my grades are - ”
“I’m not talking about grades, Draven. You would do anything for them, let them do anything to you, if you thought it would make them love you. It’s pathetic.”
Draven didn’t know how to reply. Because Luminos help him, Elliot was right. He was right, and Draven knew it was pathetic. But could Elliot really blame him? He didn’t know how Elliot could just not care. They were their parents, after all. And parents were supposed to love their children, weren’t they? He didn’t suppose he was any sort of authority on that. Elliot always said they were though. He seemed surer that their parents weren’t doing things right than Draven was. And yet, he didn’t seem to care. Well, he cared, but not in the same way. He looked down at his feet.
“You can’t deny it,” Elliot said a bit more quietly. “You can't deny it because it’s true. So how can you call me stupid? They’re never going to love you, Draven. It doesn’t matter what you do or how perfect you are, you can’t earn the love of those… those monsters. They don’t have any.”
And he so desperately wanted to believe that with as much certainty as Elliot seemed to, because at least then he’d know he wasn’t the problem.
The footsteps came closer, starting up the stairs. Draven looked up at Elliot, who turned, and headed the rest of the way up. Draven followed. In the hall, he paused outside his door, glancing over at Elliot, at his own door across the hall.
“You don’t have to, you know,” Elliot whispered. “You don’t have to try so hard to please them.”
“And you don’t have to aggravate them in every way you possibly can.” Draven turned, and entered his room.
⠀
By the time Draven reached the estate, he felt about ready to pass out. He had taken a few minutes outside the diner to prepare himself, but he really should have had some water before leaving. He dragged himself up to his room, and collapsed into bed, the green blanket still rumpled from last night. Bed, where he should have stayed. What had possessed him to leave? After just lying there a few minutes, he groaned, and sat up, rubbing his eyes. Ciel, his head was still aching horribly. He sent a message down to the servants, requesting water. He knew he should try to eat, but he just wasn’t hungry. Honestly, he didn’t think that he could. He had never really eaten much anyway, and the potions seemed to take away his appetite altogether. He had started to lose weight, which wasn’t good, but… he had a hard time caring. What did it matter, anyway? He twisted his family crest ring around his finger.
He couldn’t stop thinking about August Hayden. He had been jealous of him for a while now. Mostly of his relationship with his sister, but that wasn’t all. And their interaction this morning had only served to highlight those other things he was envious of. Which was ridiculous, of course. He shouldn’t be envious. After all, Draven was a Delacroix, a noble patriarch. If anything, August should be envious of him.
But, no, he couldn’t convince himself of that. He didn’t think he ever could, when he could tell that August’s mother and sister loved him. What wouldn’t he give for that?
But it was true he did have things that August didn’t. And it was true that he didn’t know what it was like to grow up the way August had. He did know quite a bit about being judged based off of your blood, but in an entirely different way. He hadn’t admitted that August was right aloud, but he knew he was. He did. If he had responded though… Well, he would have been defensive again.
And he didn’t care what August had said.
So why were his words still echoing in his head? He dropped his head into his hands, elbows resting on his knees. He couldn’t force his voice out. He needed a break. This would surely drive him insane. The temptation to go grab another potion was so strong, he wasn’t sure if he could resist. But he had to. He had to. He shoved his fingers into his hair.
A knock sounded on the door. “My lord?”
He stood, and headed over to the door, opening it to find a servant standing there with the water he had requested. He took it before shutting the door, then leaned against it, and sank to the floor. He poured himself a glass, then set the pitcher on the floor. He stared at the glass for a second, lost in thought.
He really needed to stop thinking about this. Did it ever occur to you that I want to be better and help people because maybe I didn't have very many people helping me? That… well. Draven was very against the concept of anyone helping him for any reason, so of course he hadn’t been happy with him. He didn’t need help. But, he knew that things had been hard for August, he did. Maybe he had been focused on only the things he envied, but when he stopped and thought about it, of course he knew that. He had seen the way August and his sister were treated by other nobles. He couldn’t deny that he had been pretty horrible himself. He had also seen how their Father behaved at galas, always glaring and sneering at them. Always trying to get in with the older families - who were never going to accept him, he should have just given up - even if that meant putting down his own. And suddenly, it clicked in his brain that maybe - maybe - Well. Maybe August’s father hadn’t been any kinder than his own.
It wasn’t that he didn’t love his father. Of course he did. I know something's wrong with your family, and for that, I am deeply sorry. There was nothing for him to be sorry for. There was nothing wrong with Draven’s family. Well… alright, maybe it wasn’t… perfect. But, no one was perfect, right? And maybe his parents had never loved him, but that must be his own fault. His brother too. He reached up to run his finger along the chain of the necklace hidden under his collar. He didn’t know why he still wore it. Elliot had given it to him, a silver moon, while Elliot had a golden sun. They both used to wear them all the time, but Draven had no doubt Elliot had likely ditched his forever ago, even though he had taken it with him when he left. But Draven just couldn’t seem to bring himself to stop wearing his. Just like how in his most pathetic moments, he sometimes still went into Elliot’s room. Well, it had been a while since he had done that. But he was still wearing the necklace. He pulled it out, holding the pendant, and turning it over in his fingers before stuffing it back in his shirt. Anyway, his parents didn’t love him, his brother had left his life completely, the only boyfriend he had ever had had been in it for… well, not the same reasons as Draven. He was the common denominator. If no one loved him, then the fault must lay with him. So there was nothing wrong with his family. No, there was just something wrong with Draven. Of course, he knew he had Isley and Alex, but still, there was clearly an issue if so few people cared. If his own family didn’t love him back. But it was still him, because otherwise what were the chances that all three of them -
And maybe there was something wrong with the Hayden family, or had been. Lady Hayden’s husband had been arrested for theft and fraud, so regardless of whether there had been more to it or not, that was clearly an issue. But there was nothing wrong with August.
Draven sipped his water. He needed to get a grip. He really needed to. He looked up across the room at his window, the dark green curtains still drawn. He should open them. Or not. It didn’t really matter. The room was dark with them closed, but it was always rather dark anyway. It was all dark colors, after all. And silver. He tipped his head back against the door, closing his eyes.
Maybe that was what really pissed him off about August. His life had no doubt been awful, but he wasn’t. He was so good that Draven wanted to strangle him. He was everything Draven never got to be, and everything he never could have been, and that didn’t even make any sense, but it did. He knocked his head back, then immediately regretted it as pain shot through it. ”Merde.” He rubbed the back of his head, and scooted away from the wall.
August clearly didn’t understand what Draven had been trying to say with the fairytale metaphor because if there was anyone in all of Lux who was a white knight it was him. But Draven’s whole point had been that life wasn’t a fairytale, and August had agreed, so what was the problem?
A part of Draven almost wished he hadn’t walked out so soon. He had needed to, he quite literally lost control of his magic, and that had certainly not been a good sign. He had clearly needed to calm down, and talking to August had only done the opposite. He didn’t want to ever have to see him again.
“Bloody white knight.”
(view spoiler)
⠀
Draven looked up as his door opened. Edward. A sick feeling came over him. He and Edward had been sort of dating for over a year now, and Draven had been trying to figure out how to break up with him for forever. And now here he was in his bedroom of all places, which was frankly a little terrifying. It was ironic, really, that his parents insisted he shouldn’t let Izzy, his cousin and best friend, in his room, but they didn’t seem to suspect anything with Edward. Maybe they were just really convinced that Draven was straight. He wasn’t sure what gave them that idea, but maybe they thought it unlikely that neither he nor Elliot would be. Well, it wasn't like he was going to correct that assumption.
He stood from where he had been sitting at his desk, shoving his notebook into a drawer. He really didn’t want Edward seeing his poetry. He really didn’t want Edward here at all. Even in the house, let alone his room. Edward in his room never ended well.
Edward walked over to him. “Good afternoon, Draven.”
Draven swallowed. “Edward. What brings you here?” Why did he ask? It wasn’t like he didn’t already know.
“I just wanted to see you.”
“I’m rather busy at the moment.”
“You need to learn to relax more.” Edward reached out and tucked a curl behind Draven’s ear. He managed not to wince at the contact.
“Edward, I - ” he began, but suddenly, Edward’s mouth was on his, and he couldn’t talk. This was what had happened last time. How many tries was it going to take?
It had started simply enough. Draven had been lonely. Elliot had just been disowned, and in spite of seeing him from time to time at school, Draven hadn’t really been able to talk to him. And while he did spend as much time with Izzy and Alex as he could, Elliot’s absence had left a hole in him that he wasn’t sure what to do about. Edward, who he had already vaguely known from noble gatherings, had simply seemed friendly at first. And granted, Draven didn’t tend to like people, let alone trust them, but somehow, somewhere along the way, he had let his guard down with Edward. It wasn’t love, he knew that now, although he had spent an awful long time trying to figure that out. To be fair, he wasn’t sure if he had ever even felt any real attraction toward him. Draven had never really felt that way before. He had seen the way Elliot and Alex looked at people they liked, and once he had even dared to ask Alex about it, after coming to the sudden realization that finding someone objectively attractive might not actually count as a crush. And apparently, that suspicion had been correct. All things considered, he wasn’t so sure he had ever had a crush at all. He couldn’t help but wonder if that meant there was something wrong with him. Well, something else. It wasn’t like he really had love of any sort figured out, though, because otherwise, wouldn't more people love him back? If his own parents didn’t love him - if Elliot could just leave him - well, he was clearly doing something wrong, he just wasn’t sure what.
At any rate, as wary as he had been, as much as he feared being let down again, Edward had worked his way into his good graces, at the very least. And he was objectively attractive. And in spite of Draven’s lack of actual romantic attraction, he wasn’t against the concept of romance. Except that it felt awfully vulnerable, like any other type of love, and really, did he want to deal with that any more than necessary?
At any rate, that was the way it had gone. No one knew, of course. Draven remembered the lecture Elliot had gotten when their parents had found out he was gay, and very much did not want to have to face that. Honestly, ever since Draven had realized that was a possibility, he had known that dating a boy sounded much better to him than dating a girl, just another issue that had to be set aside, especially now with Elliot gone. Draven would have to marry a girl, and have children with her, and there was no use denying that. And maybe marriage wouldn’t be the end of the world, but having children… what it took to have children…
And that was the issue with Edward. Edward just could never seem to come to terms with the fact that Draven didn’t want that, until Draven found himself questioning. Suffice it to say, after being with Edward this long, he was more sure than ever. He wasn’t so sure that didn’t mean he was broken, but it was the truth. And yet… and yet, he had allowed it, hadn’t he? Every time he found himself in this position, he would freeze up, he would panic, he wouldn’t stop it. And then it would escalate, and Edward would brush it off, no, he wasn’t having a panic attack, it was normal to get a little breathless. Really, why would he be having a panic attack?
Draven had had enough panic attacks in his life to recognize them, although the fact that they kept happening like this probably was ridiculous. Surely, it wasn’t normal. This couldn’t be the normal reaction.
At any rate, he had decided that normal or not, he couldn’t keep doing this. But every time he tried to end it, he lost his courage. He didn’t know how to do this. And now Edward’s hands were all over him again, and he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t do this, but he couldn’t do this. Besides, what would his parents do if they found out? Edward was deepening the kiss, because it wasn’t like Draven needed to breathe. What if he just passed out? As Edward leaned in, Draven stepped back, bumping into the wall. He felt trapped. He often did with Edward. With his parents too. With life in general.
He was so bloody tired of it.
Edward finally pulled back. Presumably, he also had to breathe, although at this point, Draven was beyond “a little breathless”. Edward just smirked, which was pretty typical of him.
“Edward, please- ”
“You’re adorable when you beg,” Edward cut him off, running a finger along his jaw, before tilting his chin up and leaning in again. Que le ciel l’aide, he was never going to get this out, was he? When Edward was on him like this, he just… shut down. Or tried to, at least. The same way he tried to when his parents were punishing him. It didn’t always work, and it was easier if he got high first. Or drunk. Maybe if he - But no, he wasn’t doing this again. He tried to push Edward away, but wasn’t strong enough.
He really was pathetic, wasn’t he? He felt about ready to just give up, give in. Let Edward take what he wanted, like he always did. Because he was too weak to fight. And it wasn’t - he could hardly bring himself to even think the word, but that wasn’t what it was, because he never said no. Not in the end. Not anymore. But even if this was all his own fault, he didn’t want it.
And suddenly it hit him that while Edward may be physically stronger, Draven had his magic. And he could use it, if he really dared to do this. He hesitated for a moment, but Edward was all over him and he couldn’t breathe. Maybe he ought to give him a taste of what that felt like. He focused on the air in Edwards lungs, and yanked it out. Edward staggered back, letting go of him to clutch at his own throat.
The hesitation was gone now. He should have done this sooner. A borderline hysterical laugh broke out of him. Maybe there was something wrong with him for enjoying this, but Dieu, was it satisfying.
Edward was staring at him with wide eyes, gasping for air. “Dr- ” He couldn’t seem to finish. The skin around his lips was going blue.
Draven didn’t relent. “We’re done,” he announced, glaring right into Edward’s eyes. “I’m through with being your plaything.”
The discoloration seemed to be spreading. Edward reached out for him, but he stepped further away. A part of him just wanted to keep going until he was dead, but another part of him simply couldn’t. “Touch me again, and I will kill you.” And he meant it. He let the confirmation of that statement seep into his face. Let Edward see that he wasn’t someone to be taken advantage of anymore. He spun on his heel, and strode away releasing his grip on the air only once he was out the door. He could hear Edward dragging it in as he headed down the hall.
About ten minutes later, he watched through the window as Edward left. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass and let out a sigh of relief. He couldn’t quite believe it was over, and yet surely he had scared him. He supposed he needed to be more threatening more often. It wasn’t like he hadn’t already known that. He knew that being vulnerable was dangerous, he wasn’t sure how he had let himself get into this situation in the first place. But never again.
understudy
Born to be your understudy
Did you ever see it that way?
You were the chosen one, the golden son
You can't claim I stole that away.
You threw away everything you were ever given
So you can't place the blame on me
I'm just stepping into the part you abandoned
Do you think that's easy?
So I step onto the stage
The crowd whispering your name
They never saw me till you left
And I'm center stage
Star of the whole damn play
But it's still a comparison
I waited in the wings
My moment never came
Until you walked away
Yes, you were a disappointment
But it's your name
Echoing in the rafters
And you’ll always be remembered
Even if it's as a disaster
So I step onto the stage
The crowd whispering your name
They never saw me till you left
And I'm center stage
Star of the whole damn play
But it's still a comparison
And the blood is real
But I swear the tears are not
The only place I ever felt safe was your arms
But now you're gone
And the show must go on
You failed
But only because you would never try
And I fail
No matter how hard I fight
You say they never wanted you
But they wanted me less
Until I cut myself to ribbons
To fit their vision
And still I
Somehow fall short
But I take up your role
Refuse to say your name
Like it's a curse
Although I think the curse is me
Sometimes I'm tempted to say it
Just to see
If I could get out that easy
Because I think
I’d rather it all burn
Then live another day
Playing this part
But I step onto the stage
The crowd whispering your name
They never saw me till you left
And I'm center stage
Star of the whole damn play
But it's still a comparison
And the blood is real
But I swear the tears are not
The only place I ever felt safe was your arms
But now you're gone
And the show must go on
And I can no longer sleep at night.
Who will be there for me
When the nightmares won't leave my mind?
Got everything I wanted, I fear
Because everyone sees me
But still no one really sees me
Guess I’ll always be just your understudy
But the show must go on.
