Butterfly Reign

25. Though I'm Drowning In Sorrow

Tubbo does not express much emotion on his face. Unlike Tommy, who had to train out his habits of guffawing at the top of his voice and spitting out the first thing that comes to his mind in fits of anger, he has that natural timidity that shrouds his expression in a pall of uncertainty. If you insult a person like this, they won't even show it. Caused them the most severe emotional wound, they will wrinkle their lips, and it's impossible to tell whether it's supposed to be a smile or a grimace. It's dangerous to corner such people, because you won't know when you crossed the line before the knife is buried handle-deep in your chest.

Tommy wipes out all traces of tension and fear from his expression and posture. He rolls his shoulder as if to knead a joint, and produces a light, relaxed chuckle. All Tommy's been doing these past weeks is playing with steel, and some twisted part of him likes the intoxicating feeling that comes with the constant risk, cheering on and grinning from a rooftop while the world around him went up in crimson flames. Undoubtedly, madness feels much more pleasant than fear.

"You've startled me, Tubbo," Tommy says, twisting away to pluck out a handkerchief and wipe his muddied hands thoroughly. "For a moment it sounded like you're accusing me... ridiculous, isn't it?"

Tubbo's jaw clenches taut. The gem pulses at the end of the chain, as if resonating with the rapid pace of his heartbeat. Disbelief reads in every inch of Tubbo's posture, in the way he threads further into the room and stops a dozen feet away from Tommy. He does not utter a single word, even as the prince flings the soiled piece of cloth to the low table between them and turns his attention to the ruined plant. It's a shame, really, Tommy thinks, pinching the stem between his fingers. Alliums are pretty flowers, but his garden is no place for weeds.

"I've told everybody that Ranboo shouldn't be trusted," Tommy says. "He had gotten all of you fooled by his innocent demeanor and pretense naivety, and then tried to frame me for the lowest of crimes, as if it wasn't enough how betrayed that I felt that my family had turned against me..." he turns to Tubbo, his shoulders sinking and eyes shadowing into bleak autumn clouds, "how hurt I was to lose you."

Tommy eases the distance between them, step by step, like inching his way up a rocky mountain trail. Anyone else walking the same path would've slipped and rocketed into the vast abyss below, but they had been friends for over a decade, long enough to know which rock would certainly hold his weight. What words he could use to tug on the severed bonds of their friendship and weave it into a noose around Tubbo's throat.

"I missed you, Tubbo," Tommy says softly, silence carrying his murmur across the room. If Tubbo had been stiff before, now he turns into a stone statue, breathless and unalive, only the gleam of his dark eyes betraying that there's still a soul there to listen, to believe, and to fool. "Blinded by anger, I unjustly blamed you for the things that weren't fully in your reign. If you'd give me another chance... I can be better."

"Once Ranboo is brought to justice, everything can be back to how it used to be." Tommy intertwines their hands, identical scars throbbing with the same fierce intensity as on the day a knife had sealed their brotherhood. "You and me, against the world."

Tommy takes Tubbo's other hand and gently pries his fingers open. The chain chimes softly, and the Star swings from side to side, a mysterious glow laying purple shadows on the prince's face.

Trust me, the violets of Tommy's eyes glimmer and demand. He can see in the flutter of Tubbo's eyelids just how much he wants to, and the exact moment he decides that he has had enough and yanks the threads around his neck loose.

"Stop it," he whispers.

Tommy's bright smile wanes. He weaves a hoax edge of hurt into his perplexed frown, not ready to give up on the act just yet.