Melkor had never felt such a strong urge to protect something in his entire life. He got angry when anyone touched his scrapbooks in which he made notes for music and poetry and in which he sketched, but the mere idea that any harm could befall this boy in his arms made his blood heat up with fury.
And just as easily as it had come, Melkor’s anger was melted away by the warmth of the boy’s hand squeezing his own, his cheek resting ever so softly against his chest and his body so innocently leaning against him that Melkor felt his heart bloom. His pulse sped up and he found that he didn’t care whatsoever that the boy would surely be able to hear it. Instead of worrying about it he wrapped his free arm around the boy to hold him protectively.
He felt so fragile in his arms. Melkor wanted to keep him safe and at the same time felt the urge to break him - not cruelly, no, of course not, and he always wanted to fix him afterwards again. He just wanted the boy to know just how good it had felt when that first glance from his fiery eyes had shattered Melkor’s heart. And it was all perfect. His heart had been nothing but a cluster of irreparably broken shards of sharp, ice-cold glass, and the boy and his smile had crushed it into stardust, and now it could fly. It wanted to fly towards him and be mended again by the heat of the fire Melkor was sure he could sense ablaze within him.
Only you can make me whole again, my precious, grant me that sweet mercy and I shall be yours forever.
He needed him. The thought of losing him before he’d even really had him was so painful that it knocked the breath out of Melkor for a moment, and he wanted to grab on tighter and whisper into his ear for him to stay –
And that was when the boy pulled out of Melkor’s gentle embrace and slipped away like a ray of sunlight yanked away by a front of clouds. Melkor needed a second to register he was gone and another to think to run after him, but then the crowd moved and they were swept apart, leaving Melkor feeling as if he’d been torn down the middle and his lungs mauled by rabid dogs.
He physically gasped in pain and felt tears stinging in his eyes; he couldn’t believe how cold he suddenly felt without him and how he’d survived his whole life without that beautiful angel at his side, but one thing he knew: he could not just let him slip away.
Melkor drew a deep breath, and his eyes were flaming with determination. He stood to his full height and scanned the crowd, and indeed - just before it was too late he saw one of the dancing lights from the show on stage flashing over a red-golden head of hair like no other he’d ever seen.
His first urge was to slam through the crowd and shove aside anyone and anything that dared stand between him and his precious boy, but he had to contain himself so he wouldn’t cause a scene and be thrown out, risking to lose him forever. And so he bit his tongue and forced himself to navigate the crowd as smoothly and quickly as possible. It only took him a few moments but they felt like an hour.
But finally he reached the side of the crowd and slipped through the same exit he’d seen the boy disappear through.
There were still too many people for his taste in the corridor, but Melkor didn’t care. He leaned in to the nearest security guard, displaying a sweet, sickeningly polite smile while asking them about the boy. He wanted to choke the answers out of them when the guard turned to a colleague and asked her if she’d seen someone like that, and he clenched his jaw in impatience while still smiling, but finally the second guard nodded and described just where the boy was hiding.
“Kid probably had too much of the crowd, it happens. Is he your friend?” she asked, quite obviously trying to keep him around and make conversation until she was invited to join to look for the boy.
Melkor barely spared her a glance while he said in the calmest tone of voice, “He’s the love of my life.” Then he rushed off, fuming at the knowledge he’d wasted precious seconds of time with the beautiful boy.
It all stopped when he saw him sitting there, crying. He didn’t hear the music, didn’t feel the bass vibrate through the ground, didn’t register the people or the lights or anything around them. All that he perceived was the boy, looking so small and helpless with his face buried in his hands.
He couldn’t bear to leave him in pain.
Melkor approached the boy without hesitation, only slightly slowing down his steps so he wouldn’t startle him. He didn’t think about what he was doing, he just sank to his knees next to the crying boy and reached out his hand to cup the top of his head. He wanted to pull him close and admire him from afar, kiss him and hug him and laugh and cry with him and so much more all at once, but he knew how terrible it felt to be hugged during or just after a panic attack, so he just stayed where he was, his eyes full of love and concern and relief.
“I’m here. All will be well.”
