12-23-2022, 09:51 PM
Raffe stayed motionless for a long time. His head was swimming. Amidst the hurt he battled an inevitability; that promises made to him were things meant to rot, that his trust was foolish and fragile, and given freely at his own risk. If he ended up hurt it was his own fault. The shock must have eased at some point, but he only felt numb afterwards. Eventually his head lifted from his hands, eyes raw, staring at nothing. He scrubbed his palms back over his hair. The curls were damp. His skin was clammy.
Nox had been talking, but the words all ran together. The sight of his tears gutted Raffe, even now. He never doubted the grief was real. It made him feel hollowed out.
After a moment he climbed the stairs and sat on the landing opposite. Not close. He didn’t trust the landscape of his own bruised heart. But he held his hand out for the wallet, so he could see the message.
“You both work for the Ascendancy, Nox. You giving that up too?” It wasn’t said in plea. The strain of his whisper was strangely empty, even to his own ears. He didn’t meet Nox’s eyes.
“I never had a blood family, just the ones I chose,” he said as he sat back. Nox knew all that; there were few secrets between them. He drew his knees up, read in silence. A few times, actually. But it didn’t dampen the sharpness of the pain every time he repeated his gaze over the line I can’t say no to you.
Raffe had never considered domesticity as something he wanted. Relationships in the past had taken myriad forms; when Raffe’s heart was involved, he was utterly open to what made others happy. Jealousy wasn’t in his nature. He’d surprised even himself with how thoroughly the future Nox had woven into possibility had enchanted him. It had felt like home.
What it felt like now he wasn’t sure.
He blinked, and scooted the wallet back along the floor. His arms returned to rest on his knees, like he made a cage of his body. His head tipped back against the wall, eyes closed.
“When my dad was acquitted of what he did, I thought he’d come get me. Take me home. Sounds stupid, but I hoped for it. He never did. But I did see him again, after the Custody washed their hands.” His voice scratched the words out quietly. “Turns out he had a whole other family, his real family, and me and my mum were the byproducts of betrayal. Told me his wife was mad when she found out about the affair, that she wouldn’t have accepted me into their home.”
He’d never admitted that to anyone. A packet of money and an apology delivered after thirteen abandoned years, and Raffe had been too stunned for a reaction. He’d papered over the damage, coped the way most bereft teenagers would, but if the past few days proved anything it was how close those wounds still lingered to the surface. Rejection was not an injury easily recovered from, and the bonds of brotherhood bolted stronger than the frailties of blood. Did Nox realise how it would cut?
“He did it to keep the peace with his wife. To keep her happy.” Raffe paused, shrugged and swallowed, gaze trailing to nowhere it could be captured. Tears burned, but nothing fell. His pain was palpable. “If it’s really what you need to do for yourself, I get it. But don’t do it for me. Don’t do it because you think it’ll mend things.”
Nox had been talking, but the words all ran together. The sight of his tears gutted Raffe, even now. He never doubted the grief was real. It made him feel hollowed out.
After a moment he climbed the stairs and sat on the landing opposite. Not close. He didn’t trust the landscape of his own bruised heart. But he held his hand out for the wallet, so he could see the message.
“You both work for the Ascendancy, Nox. You giving that up too?” It wasn’t said in plea. The strain of his whisper was strangely empty, even to his own ears. He didn’t meet Nox’s eyes.
“I never had a blood family, just the ones I chose,” he said as he sat back. Nox knew all that; there were few secrets between them. He drew his knees up, read in silence. A few times, actually. But it didn’t dampen the sharpness of the pain every time he repeated his gaze over the line I can’t say no to you.
Raffe had never considered domesticity as something he wanted. Relationships in the past had taken myriad forms; when Raffe’s heart was involved, he was utterly open to what made others happy. Jealousy wasn’t in his nature. He’d surprised even himself with how thoroughly the future Nox had woven into possibility had enchanted him. It had felt like home.
What it felt like now he wasn’t sure.
He blinked, and scooted the wallet back along the floor. His arms returned to rest on his knees, like he made a cage of his body. His head tipped back against the wall, eyes closed.
“When my dad was acquitted of what he did, I thought he’d come get me. Take me home. Sounds stupid, but I hoped for it. He never did. But I did see him again, after the Custody washed their hands.” His voice scratched the words out quietly. “Turns out he had a whole other family, his real family, and me and my mum were the byproducts of betrayal. Told me his wife was mad when she found out about the affair, that she wouldn’t have accepted me into their home.”
He’d never admitted that to anyone. A packet of money and an apology delivered after thirteen abandoned years, and Raffe had been too stunned for a reaction. He’d papered over the damage, coped the way most bereft teenagers would, but if the past few days proved anything it was how close those wounds still lingered to the surface. Rejection was not an injury easily recovered from, and the bonds of brotherhood bolted stronger than the frailties of blood. Did Nox realise how it would cut?
“He did it to keep the peace with his wife. To keep her happy.” Raffe paused, shrugged and swallowed, gaze trailing to nowhere it could be captured. Tears burned, but nothing fell. His pain was palpable. “If it’s really what you need to do for yourself, I get it. But don’t do it for me. Don’t do it because you think it’ll mend things.”
![[Image: Raffe-banner--scaled.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/07/Raffe-banner--scaled.jpg)