#heartalter

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀DARK HUES FLICKER TOWARDS CAIN'S SOLEMN FACE BEFORE HIS GAZE FALLS, vision weighed by shame and that familiar fear of the only person you love leaving you behind. he bore his eyes into the floor, focusing on the tiny indent in the floorboard where zach split chin open chasing the family dog. it was so long ago, but the silence brings kaleb back to that moment. his brother always grieved voicelessly, pushing his pain down and blinking until he forced his tears to disappear, biting the insides of his cheeks to muffle the cries, picking the skin around his nails until it bled to redirect his focus to a different pain, because somehow that was easier to manage, like pinching your thigh at the dentist. he could probably count the times he's heard zachary cry on the fingers of one hand --- he suffered in silence. kaleb was similar in a way, bottling up all his grief, making his torment grow in size and severity, which in result turned him bitter, resentment settling in his bones like an old, familiar ache.

“ no, cain. it was the opposite, i --- ” it's been a while since kaleb felt his words strangle him, that familiar, paralyzing ache making it impossible to speak, as if trying to swallow smoke only for it to choke you. “ it felt like i --- i couldn't breathe without you, like i was suffocating, ” he stutters the same way he once used to as a child, feeling so small, helpless. he shakes his head, trying and failing to find the right words to describe the anguish, the vast emptiness that seemed to strangle him the minute cain stepped out of his life, disappearing like a deer into fog over the moors. “ like all the oxygen in the room left with you. ”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀kaleb raises his gaze, eyes straining to look hardened but faltering. walls that were ready to crumble fortified again, like a mutt snaring its fangs in fear, so defenseless that it was ready to bite the hand that reached out to stroke it. dark brows knit as fear rises, desperate to justify what he did, how he pushed him away, because if he couldn't trick himself into thinking that he did the right thing, he would surely go mad. “ --- but if that's what it took, for you to leave this fuckin' place ? then so be it. ” something inside of him breaks with each word, anger replaced by grief, waves of crushing sadness piercing his expression as the corners of his lips quiver, struggling to contain the immensity of his emotions, feeling like a cornered dog. “ i would'a done it all over again. i'd rather suffocate than have you waste away here, the way i did. ” the attempts at keeping his voice stern and confident were feeble, the self-assured mask cracking and letting guilt slip through the cracks, like sap bleeding through broken bark. not even kaleb believed his own words, not fully, at least. a part of him screamed that if he could turn back time, relive that moment, he'd break into pieces and beg cain to stay, stay and never leave, as if his presence was the only thing that could save him from drowning. “ . . . one of us had to make it out. and it was never gonna be me. ” the air leaves his lungs in trembling breaths, words weak and desperate, uttered like autumn leaves falling on cold wind.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀KALEB CHERISHED MOMENTS LIKE THIS, golden sunlight melting into a red dusk bleeds into the bedroom, drowning them in a soft, blissful gleam. the dying sunshine falls on cain’s face, illuminating each feature, the sharp outline of his jaw, the soft curve of his cheekbones, the subtle cupid’s bow that begged to be caressed with his own lips. kaleb's stuck in a trance, admiring each little feature that he so desperately missed during their time apart.

“ ---- oh ? ” he rolls over, legs still tangled in one of the many blankets that their bed nest consisted of, cotton pillows and duvets veiled with lavender and cain's scent. “ lemme see if you're not bullshittin' me, ” kaleb drawls under a quiet breath. his hand reaches out, gently taking hold of the other man's wrist, inspecting it closely before a faint smile shines upon tired features.   fingers  trace  the  tattoos  on  his  skin,  touch  ghosting  gently  over  the  black  lines  of  ink  etched  into  skin.   art old and new, fading artwork that he remembered and fresher masterpieces that he had yet to discover. his  thumb  brushes  against  the  two tiny, sharp  k's  on  his  wrist,  as  if  checking  if  they  won’t  smudge,  if  they  stays  there,   undisturbed,   carved  into  his  skin  for  eternity.  they did. “ that chicken - scratch handwritin' looks familiar . . . ” he murmurs, dark hues jumping from the initials back to cain's face, still bathed in that golden glow of a peaceful afternoon. “ where'd ya trace it from, hm ? ” his chest blooming with an indescribable ache at the mere thought of cain holding onto his notes and old journals with that angular, crabbed signature scratched into yellowed paper.