#frostruled

     “---My number one fan, hmm ?”

You've got it ALL       ---------  You lost your mind in the sound

There's so much more You can RECLAIM your  C R O W N ❅

   [...]   Put all your faults to bed; You can be king again

Lyon Vastia aesthetic    // for @frostruled​ / @g-urei​ ​

     …

MEME // @frostruled

     HE earned himself an eye roll. “You make it sound like that decision is a dangerous one.” When in actuality she just simply didn’t tell him where they were going. It was nothing bad, the girl didn’t even blindfold him like they do in books. It was just somewhat of a walk. 

  “WE are almost there anyway. You could relax.” She continued to lead him until they reached a cafe. A rather trendy place as of late, having high praise in magazines and reviews. Rayne had to have planned this for a week before, keeping the reservation a secret until this point. 

█▐ ❆ ࿐ᐤ  &&. HE KNEW IT WILL NOT be a simple task – redeeming Lyon from the unfortunate foray he had undertaken by his own will. He knew that in a typical Vastia fashion --- Lyon would strike out with a cold, calculated precision going for what he knew would wound Gray the most. ( Especially in an instance when his heart was raw – exposed, and brimming with EMOTION. Just as potent. Just as strongly; when he was no longer was he cold &&. empty. In an instance like this, when his stomach lurched with how brittle he feels, how fractured ------

Gray would weaken before his words, before his eyes, and before his soul. )

              His countenance was gelid as whirling turmoil lurked beneath the crease of his brow, the strain to keep his joints relaxed clearly depicted in the set of his jaw. Pain does NOT afflict him but mild trepidation, the steely knot in the pit of his gut alerted Gray of the festering tension between them. Mellow rain ━ as if on cue ━ commenced its relentless patter, cascading down &&. drenching the parched earth like a hail of unrelenting bullets; ferocity unparalleled. 

⠀

                                        “ I’m finding that hard to believe but ..                       I don’t completely know what this ‘it’ is that you’re referring to. ” 

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              There was a tinge of distaste on the tip of his tongue &&. his fingers dug half-crescent imprints into the alabastrine flesh of his palms. Lyon’s voice was penitent, though its sonorous cadence was no more than a RIPPLE through the white noise ━ at once forfeited to the relentless patter of the rain. The mere words stung a DULL ACHE within the burrow Gray’s chest ---- right by his heart, a pain once reminiscent of the laser that had previously impaled. His fists clenched, knuckles growing ashen whilst cerulean orbs darted across the floorboard – refusing, refusing to look him straight into the eyes. 

Gray knew that. 

Gray knew that when Lyon refused to let him pay for his cup of coffee. Gray knew that when Lyon chose to recede his own feelings away. When Lyon brought up how undeserving he felt of Gray’s affections, he knew --- within the secluded depths of his heart, he knew that Lyon would find it hard to believe. He knew how all of Lyon’s past misdeeds was WHAT amounted up to his current insecurities &&. inadequacy...

But Gray also knew that Lyon isn't a wraith of his past anymore.

              To Gray, Lyon was more than his darkness, more than his delicts. He sees Lyon in his progress &&. achievements, not his mistakes. He sees much, much MORE in Lyon than what Lyon sees within himself; he could see how far Lyon had come. He knows how much Lyon wants to atone, how much Lyon wants to make it up to him. He knows that Lyon won't hurt him again. He just ... he knows. Because Lyon has shown him what is it like to be loved ---- to be accepted and adored despite his sharp edges...

And that was beyond all the scars &&. pain. 

Gray wants Lyon to start living. He wants to help Lyon stops seeing himself as someone who was slaved to his misdeeds. Gray didn’t want Lyon's life to be just him making up for his MISTAKES ---- but he wants to show that Lyon can move forward, too. And he wants to help Lyon move forward- he wants the two of them to move forward, together.

Because there was something about seeing someone at their weakest; they could see past all the defenses they put up &&. see them as a WHOLE. And what he had seen was something tender, something endearing. He had seen the true Lyon.

And he knew about the LIGHT inside of him.

              A rose has thorns, does it not? Yes, somehow, the image fit. Whilst attempting to touch a rose, one would prickle their fingers; when one attempted to communicate with Lyon, one would suffer a blow from his frigid words or coarse doings.

Then what was hidden beneath, when one was able to get past the thorns, was beautiful, was it not?

    “You’re worth it.”

              He knew about Lyon’s uncertainty to open his heart to love, and to allow himself to be loved by Gray. Because of that UNCERTAINTY, Lyon chose to remain cold &&. stoic to such sentimental concept. Just like how Gray had made himself unlovable so he doesn't have to go through the dreading pain of loss. But Lyon was the one that saw through him --- that showed that he was still worthy of love in spite of it all. Lyon never gave up on Gray, but he was the one that has proven to him ... otherwise.

              IT WAS —- &&. he was hesitant to call it love, just yet, but there was SOMETHING. Something so deep and infinite... because Lyon was undefinable, like ice that thawed into liquid grace escaping any definition. Gray did an ABYSMAL job at eradicating his own heart, and Lyon brought it back. So, to Gray, Lyon was warmth &&. coolness. He was kind to him, when others would have pivoted away. He had given him – a chance. The love he had showned him was FOREIGN, but now … now he finally acknowledged them ( it might have cost him decades – cost him centuries, but he did ). It reached Gray; and in those times that Lyon picked him up &&. set him back on his feet, it magnified. Gray is, too, falling before he could even brace himself. Before he could even put those feelings into discernible words himself. 

It was strange.*

                                        But Gray realized                                                           that Lyon taught him MORE                                                    than that he is capable of being loved --- 

                               but what love is truly like...

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              Occasional quavers of thunder PUNCTUATED the sobering silence, a few of the rumbles possessing enough magnitude to rattle the weary window. This was the last straw. Gray could not hold it in any longer; the stifling sentiments, the conflicts --- and the contradicting feelings of all that he held dear were slowly but surely shattering his stoic facade. Gray was about to SNAP and he knew it; tension radiated from each muscle of his body, his teeth as well as his fists clenching as he seethed from within.

  “You’re worth all the goddamn pain, Lyon.”

           No. No, he wouldn’t let him go.

Words eluded him as mingled emotions permeate throughout his body, raging thoughts battling within. Violently slamming the neighboring door with his fist, he pivoted on his heel to face Lyon, their blue eyes ALIGHTED with both desperation &&. the sentiment that impaled his chest. He was aching within; his breath had accelerated, and already he felt his body begin to tremble.

              ❝ We both have been through enough pain in our lives to know there is no such thing as a painless nirvana. But that doesn’t mean ... we can’t heal each other. I don’t give a bloody shit about how awful you think you are, Lyon, I am no saint either. But you--- god, you ... you made me 

⠀

                ---- Happy.”

              Baritone raised, his vociferation had come to an abrupt cessation at what the following words would have entailed. He knew what he had meant to say — he needed him. What a laugh, huh? After all, from the start he had never needed a companion. Feelings or not, he could have carried on with his life. He could pursue his FUTURE on his own; he had never, either physically or mentally, emotionally needed someone by his side as a partner. 

But now— now that Lyon was actually here, he couldn’t let him go. Not Lyon. He can’t let him go anymore. 

⠀

❝ Our pasts was what brought us together, Lyon ...❞  The loss of their parents; the empathy that was only shared between two broken boys. Their master. The very element of ice itself -- ❝ Our pasts made us STRONGER. But whatever bullshit, every mistake that was in it- doesn’t fucking define the Lyon Vastia that I know today...

Don’t you know that? 

               Because of you, now, I know again what stability is. All these time that we spent with each other ... it made me feel --- FREE. ❞  And the sentence was uttered with a simplicity, imbued with a tone worthy of a bared soul.

              ❝ Don’t you understand how I feel about you, Lyon? You are not unlovable, damn it! ❞  Gray bellowed one last time, averting cerulean orbs to the ground as he refused to meet the other’s cornflower eyes  ( &&. it pains him so, the eyes that he'd come to love so much --- yet he FEARED for what reside within them during a moment of fragility. ) Obsidian tendrils were dripping over his forehead, concealing the inner torment that was wrought over his visage. Slowly, Gray retracted his bruised fist from the door.  ❝ I don’t give a shit about how much pain I have to endure, Lyon ---- as long as we still have EACH OTHER. The happiness, the comfort- that you’ve given me ... ❞  He needed to back away now. 

⠀ 

                              “-------- outweighs it all.”

⠀

He had said enough.

★ |  * ⋆      -   -  - –  INBOX !  *  ﹡                      ﹡     ✧ * ☇  ( @frostruled​​ ! ) *

     Small, metallic bells CHANT when he pushes the shop’s door open; && when the young man enters, the light winter wind follows him.

     Jellal Fernandes sweeps off the little pile of snow that has accumulated on his shoulders, shakes his head ( gently ) and brushes the humid cobalt strands away from his eyes of hazel — which then proceed to fall upon the room he just entered, analyzing his surroundings.

     If he has to guess, he’ll say this is an antique shop — and he’s PRETTY SURE he’s RIGHT. Before him stand shelves and shelves of objects and trinkets most likely OLDER THAN HIM — so many things, all coming together in one, beautiful picture that doesn’t leave him indifferent; he  ( g a p e s )  slightly, in WONDER . *, at the sight of it all.

     The floor creaks beneath his feet as he takes a few steps, his curiosity awoken — and he must have been wandering through the shop for about fives minutes when a voice rings from behind him, quite suddenly;

     —— He whips around, STARTLED — grip thankfully tightening on the small star he’d been examinating, which thank the Heavens he did not drop — && his gaze meets another, light blue like cornflowers.

The stranger is hauntingly ( beautiful ); tall, with sharp traits and ivory locks as bright && immaculate as the snow falling outside. He’s left speechless for a few seconds.

     ( perhaps longer than he thought, he realizes when the man raises an eyebrow — && suddenly coming back to his senses, he coughs and blushes…embarrassed. )

     “Hello ! — yes, uh… well, I’m just looking around. I’m new in town, I arrived a few days ago.” He adverts his gaze briefly, AWKWARDLY putting the trinket down, back in its place, and he passes his hand through his hair before looking at the stranger who visibly works here again.