an air of great human feeling

okay guys, it is time (FINALLY lmao) 🙏😅🥂

i’m moving this boyo to a blog that isn’t a sideblog !! 

so as to not fuck up people’s tags, my url stays the same, but unhyphenated: 

                                         @faintlyradiant

Not too many miles away, Santino’s feet touched ground. He knew Eric had not followed immediately. He knew that Eric’s mind was awash in distress and confusion. He knew Eric thought of sneaking off, disappearing while Santino had his back turned. The thought made a cold shiver run down his back, a needle right to his heart. He did have one of those. It had been acting up all night. 

Anxiously he stared at the night sky, waiting in the garden for a sign that Eric was arriving soon. He wouldn’t find any sort of calm until he was safe within those walls. He hated being out in the open where anyone might creep up on him. And Eric… Eric could be lost so quickly. He felt as if one breeze might turn his course and he’d be gone from him.

But Eric did appear, seeming a reluctant wanderer in the sky. And he did land beside him but his feelings hadn’t cleared. Santino looked at him with a mild frown but decided not to say anything about what had transpired in the silence between them. “Will you come to bed with me?” He asked as he held open the door for his lover. 

It was one of the few pleasures he still knew. He recognized the feeling of Eric holding him. Eric’s arms used to encompass his entire world. He had existed only in tandem with his lover, like a thing born entirely of him. Sometimes he thought it would be better for them if they could just return to that state. 

As soon as their house came into view he realised that Santino was waiting for him in the garden, and his heart sank and tripped at the same time. Santino had noticed his absence. Eric couldn’t help being hopeful about that. But even as he let himself drop, landing lightly on his feet next to his lover, he knew that he might just as well be in for a row about lingering. Santino had been peremptory with him lately, possessive. He might not have missed his presence, so much as his obedience.

Touching Santino’s mind lightly, he was surprised to find anxiety again. Santino was afraid that Eric would leave him, afraid to be exposed and attacked... afraid just in general. Eric hadn’t thought he was capable of another sudden change of emotion this evening, he felt wrung out and bone weary. But the guilt was settling on his shoulders again like a blanket. Guilt, and protectiveness, and yes, love.

He knew he had hurt Eric with his reaction, unintentional as it had been, but he didn’t think there was anything he could do to soothe him. Better not to acknowledge it, he figured. That seemed the more noble thing to do. And besides, he couldn’t find it within himself to do more than acknowledge the fact as an unfortunate part of their conversation. He didn’t want Eric to get hurt, surely not,least of all by himself. But this was their reality now. 

“So?” He prompted. “Besides, I don’t think I do, anymore. It’s not exactly rocket science. I know how to do it. I command this power as much as any other. There is nothing to hate about this.” Of course that wasn’t quite true. He knew what he had feared before, how uncomfortable it had made him to lose touch with solid ground. But these worries seemed far removed from him now. What if he fell? He wouldn’t fall. And even if he did, if it were a concrete fear in his mind… There was nothing frightening about falling. And a fall, he knew, couldn’t kill him. So what did it matter? 

All in all, Santino found, he was much less bothered by many trivial things. His mind had always been so full of sentimentality and concern. How had he survived at all, with a head so heavy? He had felt for the entire damn world. And to what end? There was no point, to anything. He touched his thumbs to his fingers as if to check if he could still feel at all. 

“Let’s just go. I’m tired.” Said it, and took to the air. 

The alley seemed silent as a grave. Only the occasional passing car in the busier thoroughfares or a brief snatch of distant conversation broke the night-time quiet. Eric couldn’t make himself move to follow. He knew he should. Santino would probably notice. But then again... he might just go home and go to bed alone without giving it any thought. 

Eric thought bitterly that Santino could probably go to bed alone every night without it bothering him overmuch. Something was missing in him, and Eric was beginning to think it wasn’t just because he felt betrayed. Santino’s anger, he could have handled. It would have hurt to be recriminated for not being present for something Maharet had never even deigned to inform him of, but he could have borne that. That would have been deserved. But he didn’t really think Santino was angry with him at all.

For a moment he considered just leaving, taking off and going in a different direction. He was still easily the fastest and the strongest of the two. If Eric didn’t want Santino to know where he was, he wouldn’t know. He could see Maharet, tell her what happened. Maybe she would be able to advise him on what to do next. If Santino really meant to harm Marius, or any of the others... they would have to prevent it. 

Santino looked at him, almost distantly. At Eric’s attempt to comfort him, something inside of him let out a jarring laugh, a cold spiteful sound that echoed through his mind. Eric’s protection… What was that worth? What had Eric’s protection done for him in that court room? What use had it been when he had screamed and screamed and died? Those thoughts left a bitter taste on his tongue, especially because they had come entirely unbidden.

“You misjudge me, Eric.” Santino said as he slowly withdrew from the incinerated remains of the fledgling. “I’m not ‘angry with him’. No creature in my state can be angry with another. This is a matter of survival and nothing else. I will not rest until he is gone from the world, and I will take his ashes and pour them into the sea if that is what it takes. Until that day no one will be safe from me because I will not be safe. And I do want it, Eric. I want it to be war. I am too proud to accept less.”

Santino took them to a secluded place, high walls, narrow alleys. “You are more accustomed, can we fly from here?”

Eric took a step back, his breath leaving him in a single exhale. He hadn't even needed to make an effort to hear that, it sliced through the ether of their mental connection like ice. What use are you? What use have you ever been? Why should I put my life in your hands? For a moment he couldn't think. Not strictly needing air, he forgot to remind himself to start breathing again. Santino had always trusted him, so much it had made Eric want to cry sometimes. More than he'd felt that he deserved. But Santino had never agreed with that assessment. He'd always chided him when he dwelled too long on his failures. And now Santino was laughing at the very idea of looking to Eric for protection, for help.

But it was true. It was true, and as much as that thought made him want to vanish into the earth, or at least to turn away from Santino right now and fly home on his own, give himself space to calm down, that would be selfish, too. There wasn’t time for him to sit around and feel sorry for himself, or complain about his hurt feelings. He'd made an enormous mistake, and he could never make up for it. But he owed it to Santino to try.

While Eric grappled with his own misery, the rest of Santino's little speech washed over him like so much sound and fury, without him being able to make intelligible sense of any of it. He was too distracted. It was only when Santino halted in an alley that he looked up in surprise.

Santino’s muscles tensed under Eric’s hands, not because of the touch but because of the words that accompanied them. Something as irrational as fear bloomed in his throat, unfurling downward and pushing against the walls of his chest. I could have killed you. I could have killed you. I could have killed you. He saw the fire, the blood flooding his vision, he felt the phantom pains of a body torn apart from the inside out. His heartbeat accelerated even as he tried to keep his breathing even and calm. Nonsense, he chastised himself. Eric would never harm him.

“I wanted peace.” He pressed out through gritted teeth. “I came when Maharet called and when Marius demanded my head I never said a word, because I wanted peace. But Maharet betrayed me, and they all stood by and let me die. You weren’t there, you didn’t see their faces. They simply watched on as the butchery took place. Peace was never an option. And I will never, you hear me? Never allow myself to be fooled again. I will never let them make you suffer again.” He drew a shuddering breath. Santino wanted to give his usual spiel, the litany of reasons why this was necessary, why he had to do this despite how he abhorred violence and cruelty. But he didn’t want to lie to Eric. 

“The Old Ways are gone, too. This is simply war. And a frightened enemy is more dangerous than a dead one.” He drew himself up, composed himself again, banishing the feverish gleam in his eyes. Santino looked at Eric expectantly. 

“And now I’m going home. Will you join me?”

Eric froze when he sensed the creeping fear in Santino’s thoughts and felt the galloping of his heart, and then he instantly softened, apologetic and tender, his thoughts as well as the gentle touch of his hands doing their utmost to soothe. He lightly cradled Santino’s face between his hands, stroking his jaw with his thumbs. No, Santo, never, you’re safe, I promise. Was this what lay underneath everything? Was it fear? The thought made his chest constrict with sympathy, but it also lit a cautious little hope. If it was simply fear, perhaps it could be mollified.

“I know, darling,” he said quietly while Santino talked, shaking his head just a little. “I know.” He was angry, too. And afraid, in hindsight. He didn’t think he’d ever quite forgive anyone who’d been in that room, either. “But I’m all right, and I’ll protect you, I swear.”

The look in Santino’s eyes was startling, but he thought he understood it now. He’d seen the same thing before, in leaders and generals. Paranoia. It so often came from a near brush with disaster.