#sunhalf:piper

to yuudai’s credit, they don’t back up or lean away as pearce bends into their space — they’re used to this kind of thing at this school. everyone’s a bit of an asshole, with so few exceptions they could count them off on one hand and still have a finger or two left. instead, they smile, swimming sea - blue eyes warm. 

“ yeah, i know. ” the answer comes easy to merry — which is funny, because this is so far from easy. it’s a heavy sort of truth, and it doesn’t even know if it can say the same for them. it’s... complicated. there’s florian and faust, but are they friends?? or family?? he’s never known family, stuck in the general care of the castle for all the good that did him. if they’re friends, it guesses they’d ———

it doesn’t matter. whatever the order is and whether merry decides to think about it or not, there’s something growing. it’s a void. it’s a black hole. it’s something that devours and eats at the edge of their emotions until they’re left feeling nothing but distance. and it’s not fair for himself, or for piper, or for florian, or faust, or even lilia ( it’s merry’s own fault he gave up on it in the first place, difficult as it tries to be without reason ). it’s not fair, but it is.

born wrong, merry’s always guessed. there’s something missing. always has been, always will be — but whatever’s missing’s being replaced now, sickly blot doing its best to choke the life out of him sooner rather than later. there’s no way to fight it at this point, so it doesn’t.

Better than Hetero, which has been the go - to lately.

leona doesn’t really get birthdays. it’s not that he dislikes the praise and attention that comes with them — he hates being fussed over, sure, but birthdays are a day about celebrating him rather than fussing over him, and he’s not going to complain about that — but it’s just another year. it’s not a big deal in his eyes, and it never has been.

so when he starts to wake, he doesn’t think about what day it is. he just thinks about the warm body in his arms, curled up lazily with him. piper. he shifts as he stirs, pulling them a little closer to him, and his eyes flutter open as a brief purr sounds in his throat. “ thank you, princess, ” he whispers in return, the words half - mumbled and just full of the same loving - mocking tone. 

“ it had nothing to do with you, ” leona replies, posture defensive — jaw tight, arms crossed, eyes giving nothing away. it had nothing to do with anyone but one bastard in particular... and it didn’t even work. and still no one can stop yapping about it. he thought that maybe pearce would be a reprieve from that, but no.

instead he’s yelling at leona, and leona can feel the steady throb of a headache building. he’s still not fully recovered from the overblot yet, and it has him feeling uneasy. nauseous but not quite. in pain but not quite. malaise. unwell.

But they miss Merry so bad they can't breathe.

They don't look up when they hear him enter.  They just stare at nothing.  Their voice is almost too quiet to hear when they whisper, voice breaking despite the nothing in their face, "please don't die."

How selfish they are, that even now all they can do is beg others to stay.

it’s not been easy on leona, either. merry was a good kid through all the instability and unpredictability of its moods and mental state. but leona doesn’t grieve — never has had to, doesn’t know how to — and, besides that, this grief is piper’s. it’s not his.

he pauses in the doorway of his own room, staring at her folded form on his bed. a moment passes before he shuts the door behind himself and makes his way across the room, sitting on the bed in silence. one hand reaches out to gently run through the ends of their red hair. everything’s quiet, but what is there to say?? comforting isn’t a strong suit of his, and he doubts it would do any good here anyway. instead he sits in silence, fingers in her hair. he’s a presence, nothing more.

leona lets her take his hands into her lap without putting up a fight. it’s not like he enjoys being fussed over, but he knows piper well enough to know this is a fight he’d lose if he tried, so. sure. they can do whatever it is they’re going to do. “ ’s not like i was hidin’ it from you, princess, ” he mutters, his low voice devoid of any heat or ire — it’s just the truth. it’s not a big deal that his palms are a little skinned up. he’s dealt with worse.

but her hands are soft, even with the delicate callouses and scars from climbing trees and roughhousing and the less - than - pleasant details of their life, and so leona doesn’t complain or pull back. he feels the magic - induced icy - heat of healing prickle his skin, concealed from view by her hands atop his ——— and if that wasn’t clue enough, a waft of the telltale scent of magic reaches his nose.

but none of that matters compared to the way her face lights up, blue eyes wide with pure excitement and wonder. his own expression is much more muted: a warmth in his green eyes on theirs, a hint of a smile on his lips. he’s never been one to betray much of his inner thoughts with his expressions, but the soft fondness isn’t hidden.