Rays of sunlight came through the circular glass window in refracted beams of warmth and reminded Levyn what it was to feel anything but cold and numb. He wasn't sure how long he had been standing there at the sink of his… their Jade Forest abode, scarred fingers curled around the basin in an effort to both keep himself upright and brace from the waves of nausea that viciously swept over him.
His husband wasn't there and it was no surprise whatsoever after the last encounter they had, a silent house filled only with the sounds of memories and the ghosts of a blissful married couple. He ran himself a glass of cold water and chugged down the contents with a grimace, methodically washing the singular vessel and replacing it as if it somehow mattered. Orli would never come back here again.
He had taken nothing of his own from the stuffed closet in the bedroom, each ornate robe and finely crafted garment holding absolutely no comfort or impression to him now. It had mattered when he worked as a priest, needing to maintain appearances, but now that he had resigned it was a pallid reminder of all he had given up. The only thing he had chosen was one of his spouse’s black shirts (a belled sleeve twine-laced favored option of which there were many duplicates), putting it on to replace what he had previously been wearing. It was oversized by far, an almost comedic dangle of arm and torso length, but somehow it felt appropriate to be what he left wearing. An ill-fitting match.
The sitting room, his final stop, was the one that threatened to stop his beating heart. He rested a hand on the archway to it, looking in like the space contained some sort of monstrous entity he had to be cautious enough to avoid. In truth, it was just high-thread count covered throw pillows and a beautiful grand piano but maybe it wasn't a breathing thing that he feared most of all. He squeezed his eyelids together to push down the sting of tears that had been his faithful companion the past few days, his pale hazel eyes a constant bloodshot mess that he assumed would never go away. But it would, in time. Just like him.
Making the final trek to the kitchen island, the half-elf took one last look at the letter he had penned in his flowing script, the final goodbye to the knight who had once swept in to save him like a romantic tale in a novel. He nervously toyed with a bead in one of his blond braids as he read it over for some phantom mistake, as if he hadn't written multitudes of it and discarded each one with the falling of a rogue tear or the faltering of his pen. His lower lip quivered and he took in a sharp breath, admonishing himself mentally for the way it hitched in his chest. Admitting he was too tired, too broken, too in love to stay had been the most wrenching tale ever composed by him; every single doubt had been confirmed when Orlando told him he had feelings for someone else. All the effort in the world could not have made Levyn whole now. He had wanted to find whoever it was that found it fair to attach him or herself to a married man without remorse for the one left behind…only to come to the gut-wrenching conclusion that perhaps they would make a better anything than he had ever been.
He would stop in town, of course, to thank their Pandaren produce supplier and wish them the best. It would be a loss for them, too, losing the business they'd held with the couple over the years. Nothing quite like the hole Orli’s admission had seared permanently into his heart, however. Levyn had been foolish.
Taking the pair of cloth gloves from the counter, he took one last look at the tattooed ring on his finger and quickly threw the accessories over his damaged flesh, folded the parchment and made for the front door at a frantic pace. The rush of bile and water doubled him over in the dirt outside, a few horrific clenches of his innards that left him retching near the wooden railing that kept people from falling over the edge of the cliffside home.
He stumbled down the winding stairs like a wavering drunk (which he was certain Orlando was by now) and found his beige yak Hyero waiting for him at the hitching post, sinking his face into the musky long hair of its side to let the stream of emotion pour once again from his exhausted sockets. He had been a naive fool. As a blushing initiate in Silvermoon, under the unwanted attentions of a Troll leader who had their own designs, in a locked room of a wealthy madman’s mansion withering away, as a guest in the home of an elf who had cared for Orlando perhaps in much the same fashion he had….so many diverging paths. Would they have all lead to this?
That was an answer for another life. Maybe they would meet there one day, under better terms. Perhaps in some other reality, they were curled up in bed laughing and basking only in each other until Levyn became dust.
This time around, however, it would only be the dust of the path away that would be kicked up and left to settle. Climbing up into the saddle and setting off with a steadying breath, Levyn could only hope one day Orlando would forgive him for not being someone who could stay. More importantly, that Levyn would forgive himself. There wasn't much time for that, after all. Everything was fleeting.
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