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033. The Spider Brings Luck
The first one he sees nearly meets a grisly end. Old habits are dreadfully difficult to break.
Like looking at people as Numbers. Like letting Lines dictate the journey. Like keeping shoulders tight and hands under the water until the pressure and friction finally, finally stains his brother’s blood onto his hands again.
He almost kills the first spider he sees after the funeral. Has to fight his hands back against his own heart and watch it walk away. Walks through a hall he Likes rather than take the fastest route.
Holds the next spider in his still gloved hands.
050. Mistaken identity
He looks for Isaac’s smile in everyone he sees. Searches for those wildcat eyes in ever raindrop. Waits with avid silence for the strong jaw to return to the world with birth of the children. Chases dreams that won’t take hold in his habitually sleepless nights. Avoids mirrors because he knows there’s nothing there.
He gets caught, one day, in a window he’s walking past with a tea tray. The image is barely there, less something Seen and more a Tug under the skin. It’s not the Diamond he expects in his absent curve of his own lips.
It’s Feilim.
065. The dead shall remain dead
Don’t be ridiculous, he tsks to an empty hallway. The blue wouldn’t look Right at all. Best stick to the grey.
Of course not, he tells the candelabra as he drags a rag over their arms. That’s the Second Wednesday of the month, not the First.
It could be, he concedes to the linens, pressing them tight. He hasn’t checked recently. Probably ought to, oughtn’t he? Well reminded.
He’s been speaking to the ghost of his friend since before Isaac passed into death. The days pass in the same uninterrupted patterns, only now he sometimes stops to speak to spiders.
025. Invisible voices
He doesn’t Sleep most nights. When he does, it’s only to be startled awake by dreams that leave him gasping for air, lips parted and unable to form the finishing scream from his nightmares.
Please don’t leave.
It escapes one night, strangled and sobbed, as his body jerks bolt upright in bed. Katya’s hand lifts delicately to his shoulder to pull him down again. Her lips brush gently at his temple, murmur in Ukrainian until she feels his heartbeat slow.
The words aren’t for her. She still won’t leave him. Not like this. Not like anything else he’s ever been.
042. Contest in words {Suzanne/Chives}
They’re fifteen when she says it first, draws the line down in the sand. Juts out her jaw with a prideful expression when he stays silent and tells him to forget it.
They’re seventeen when she starts saying it again, gasps it against his shoulder as they struggle for their breath. Hushes him with the reassurance it’s only words.
They’re twenty when she challenges him. Why can’t he say it? Three words. Eight letters. She’s been saying it for years and he can’t just once?
They’re twenty-four when he catches her chin, lifts her eyes to his.
“I love you.”
004. The first to see the sunrise
Chives loves His Castle. He loves it in the rain, when the windows glow like a smattering of stars against the blackened sky. He loves the hours after a rain, when the stones glimmer with a blasted sort of disinfected glory. He loves the dark stones in the snow, the little glittering rivers of ice embellishing each strong line. He loves it in the twilight, when the dark halls begin to flicker into light.
But really, he simply loves Any Time he’s allowed to close his eyes and breathe in the Silence of the Castle Spades—actually Hear that Heartbeat.
The first one he sees nearly meets a grisly end. Old habits are dreadfully difficult to break.
Like looking at people as Numbers. Like letting Lines dictate the journey. Like keeping shoulders tight and hands under the water until the pressure and friction finally, finally stains his brother’s blood onto his hands again.
He almost kills the first spider he sees after the funeral. Has to fight his hands back against his own heart and watch it walk away. Walks through a hall he Likes rather than take the fastest route.
Holds the next spider in his still gloved hands.
050. Mistaken identity
He looks for Isaac’s smile in everyone he sees. Searches for those wildcat eyes in ever raindrop. Waits with avid silence for the strong jaw to return to the world with birth of the children. Chases dreams that won’t take hold in his habitually sleepless nights. Avoids mirrors because he knows there’s nothing there.
He gets caught, one day, in a window he’s walking past with a tea tray. The image is barely there, less something Seen and more a Tug under the skin. It’s not the Diamond he expects in his absent curve of his own lips.
It’s Feilim.
065. The dead shall remain dead
Don’t be ridiculous, he tsks to an empty hallway. The blue wouldn’t look Right at all. Best stick to the grey.
Of course not, he tells the candelabra as he drags a rag over their arms. That’s the Second Wednesday of the month, not the First.
It could be, he concedes to the linens, pressing them tight. He hasn’t checked recently. Probably ought to, oughtn’t he? Well reminded.
He’s been speaking to the ghost of his friend since before Isaac passed into death. The days pass in the same uninterrupted patterns, only now he sometimes stops to speak to spiders.
025. Invisible voices
He doesn’t Sleep most nights. When he does, it’s only to be startled awake by dreams that leave him gasping for air, lips parted and unable to form the finishing scream from his nightmares.
Please don’t leave.
It escapes one night, strangled and sobbed, as his body jerks bolt upright in bed. Katya’s hand lifts delicately to his shoulder to pull him down again. Her lips brush gently at his temple, murmur in Ukrainian until she feels his heartbeat slow.
The words aren’t for her. She still won’t leave him. Not like this. Not like anything else he’s ever been.
042. Contest in words {Suzanne/Chives}
They’re fifteen when she says it first, draws the line down in the sand. Juts out her jaw with a prideful expression when he stays silent and tells him to forget it.
They’re seventeen when she starts saying it again, gasps it against his shoulder as they struggle for their breath. Hushes him with the reassurance it’s only words.
They’re twenty when she challenges him. Why can’t he say it? Three words. Eight letters. She’s been saying it for years and he can’t just once?
They’re twenty-four when he catches her chin, lifts her eyes to his.
“I love you.”
004. The first to see the sunrise
Chives loves His Castle. He loves it in the rain, when the windows glow like a smattering of stars against the blackened sky. He loves the hours after a rain, when the stones glimmer with a blasted sort of disinfected glory. He loves the dark stones in the snow, the little glittering rivers of ice embellishing each strong line. He loves it in the twilight, when the dark halls begin to flicker into light.
But really, he simply loves Any Time he’s allowed to close his eyes and breathe in the Silence of the Castle Spades—actually Hear that Heartbeat.
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/but love anyways
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And 65 has been canon since before Isaac died. And is still canon.