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Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, hinting at past torture, angst
0.9k words
Prince | Nimeni
The hallway is illuminated by the warm light of the afternoon as are most of the rooms of the mansion, which is why Prince walks directly towards the one place he knows the drapes would be drawn shut now; the study room. It isn't spacious and doesn't feel suffocating, he has been told, and it is the farthest away from any room potential guests could enter. Therefore a perfect sanctuary - even when one finds themself looking for peace when it is only the two of them.
With a deep breath he raises his hand and knocks on the warm wood softly. He doesn't wait for a response - he knows he wouldn't get one, if he waited - and slips inside.
His eyes need a minute to adjust to the darkness which doesn't stop him from stepping in further. He knows where to go after all, and is once again glad the other makes a point to keep everything as tidy as possible.
Instinctively he reaches a hand out to graze over the edge of the sturdy desk. Every time he does, he can't help but remember the time they've found it. Their laugh and smile when they had started debating over the price is still one of his fondest memories. One he knows he has to cherrish more than ever these days.
"You're still here," they state with their gentle voice. It wasn't a question, though it almost sounds like one.
"Of course," he says. His fingers brush over the surface until they find their arm. "What, you think I just go without a proper goodbye?" He tries a small chuckle. "Who do you think I am?"
Prince doesn't get a response to that, but he didn't expect one either. So, he doesn't sigh, instead squeezes their arm lightly.
It only has been a couple of months since they have been home again, since they were found and brought back. He still has no idea what exactly has happened while they were gone, but he had known immediately that it had been different than the few times they had been captured before; this time it had gotten to them. Prince doesn't push them to talk about it, he knows he could never put himself in their shoes, but that doesn't mean he isn't worried.
He has met, and always known, them as the care-free person who knows their way in their confusing world, who knows the rules and how to bend them to their will. Seeing them like this, in the darkest room of the mansion, sitting on the chair and just staring in front of them, not even glancing at the various books in the shelves surrounding them, feels so wrong to him. He has seen them like this once before, yes, but after a week or so and them officially changing their name, everything had been fine again. This is different. Right?
Prince sighs inwardly, he knows them for hundreds of years now and can't even answer such a question with confidence. What kind of friend is he?
When he puts his hand back onto the surface of the desk and searches in his mind for something - anything! - right to say, he almost jumps as a cold finger carefully interlaces with his as if he would flinch away any second.
"Do you need anything" or "Is there something I can do for you?" are questions he can ask anyone, and if it were someone else in front of him, he would ask this person, it would be easier for him in general too; he wouldn't have these intense feelings about it all. But with them.. If there is something he could do, they would just tell him. And they have done that already.
Prince puts his free hand on their shoulder. "Does it hurt?" he finds himself asking.
They just shake their head.
"Use your words for this one." He squeezes their shoulder. "Please."
Their finger twitches and he can feel the tension in their hand.
"Do your.. your fangs hurt?" he slowly asks again.
"You mean the ones that were pulled out?" they mutter and look up at him. Their eyes find his in a heartbeat and he sees the moment they regret their words. He lets them pull their hand away from his even though it hurts. "You should go."
"Wait-"
"I'm fine," they press. "And you have important meetings ahead of you."
"Only when you're properly saying goodbye to me." That was bolt, his heart beats faster and he has no idea where this is coming from. Nonetheless he steps back from the chair and desk, and when the other looks at him he opens his arms.
For a moment they just stare at him with raised eyebrows, but he can see the exact second their resistance breaks when their lips twitch. And he can't hide his smile when they actually get up, only to gulp when they stop right in front of him, looking exactly in his eyes.
"You're an idiot, you know that?"
"Only for you," he responds automatically.
When they hug it almost feels foreign, like it has been years since they've seen each other. Which only makes Prince draw the other in tighter.
"Take care," they murmur.
"Be careful yourself," he replies. "Please."
They huff. "I have the easy job, so don't worry about that."
"Promise?"
He feels their hand smoothing over his back. "...I promise."
