𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 - Wriothesley x Neuvillette

Silent strain (Chapter 33)

Wriothesley did his best to go see Neuvillette as often as possible, knowing they had to keep in touch despite their increasingly busy schedules. But eventually, Wriothesley got too busy to leave Meropide as well, and soon, it had been a week since they last spoke. He couldn't help but miss Neuvillette. It seemed as though his mind was consumed by thoughts of him, and he longed to see him. He wanted nothing more than to go see Neuvillette, even if it meant having to go watch a trial just to catch a glimpse of him. 

But his duties in the fortress wouldn't allow him the chance. He couldn't help but wonder why Neuvillette didn't write to him. It had been two days since he sent his last letter, and Neuvillette hadn't responded yet. Did he perhaps not have time for him anymore? It was stupid. He shouldn't feel like that. He knew Neuvillette was just busy, and he had no right to be so selfish. He could wait for Neuvillette. He had to. Days turned into a week, and the weight of separation bore down on Wriothesley. His longing for Neuvillette intensified with each passing moment, a relentless ache in the core of his being. The fortress, once a symbol of strength, now felt like a prison, its stone walls echoing the isolation that mirrored his own heart.

Wriothesley paced the corridors, restless and anxious. The bustling activities of the fortress offered no solace, only serving as a harsh reminder of the void left by Neuvillette's absence. Duty tethered him to Meropide, and the more responsibilities he shouldered, the harder it became to break free.

A pang of frustration struck him as he wondered why Neuvillette hadn't responded. All he needed was just a quick letter. Just a quick confirmation that everything was okay.

Neuvillette, too, grappled with his own turmoil. The days had blurred into a monotonous routine of legal matters and responsibilities, each demanding more than the last. The unopened letters from Wriothesley lay on his desk, piling up and reminding him of what he was missing.

 Neuvillette's gaze lingered on the letters, and a wave of guilt washed over him. The weight of his duties had become a formidable barrier, isolating him not only from Wriothesley but also from the simple joys that once colored his days. The ink-stained quill on his desk seemed to mock him, a reminder of words left unsaid.

With a sigh, Neuvillette finally succumbed to the mounting pressure. He reached for the nearest letter and broke the seal. As he unfolded the parchment, Wriothesley's heartfelt words spilled onto the page, carrying the echoes of a yearning that mirrored his own.

The ache in Neuvillette's chest deepened as he read about Wriothesley's restlessness and the palpable void left by his absence. Regret gnawed at him, and he realized the toll their forced separation had taken on both of them. He knew he should be doing more to keep contact, but there had been no room for breaks. The thought alone had him disgusted. He said he loved this man but couldn't even make time to respond to his letter?

 Neuvillette sighed and pushed his paperwork off the desk and onto the floor, the papers spreading in a beautiful mess. A mess Neuvillette under normal circumstances, would have cleaned up in a matter of seconds, but right now, he wanted the mess to be there. Because Wriothesley was more important than a neat space. And in a way the mess seemed to fill the void he wanted Wriothesley to fill, making it slightly more bearable.

With trembling hands, he grabbed the quill and started writing. The ink flowed as he poured his emotions onto the parchment and sealed the letter, giving it to Sedene to deliver before returning to his endless pile of work once more.

As the days went by, both of them wondered if the other had even opened their letters. Wondering why they weren't hearing anything from the other. Wriothesley couldn't stand not hearing anything from Neuvillette, and Neuvillette felt even more exhausted, missing the support from Wriothesley that he had so easily become addicted to. 

He had never understood why they said love was intoxicating and addicting before now. He now understood that love was like heroin, addicting, and hallucinative, but also something that can help you breathe. And Neuvillette certainly couldn't breathe now. He was suffocating in the work and aching for Wriothesley. He needed him to slow down his breathing and his heart like a drug would. He needed his comfort and touch. He needed his love. He needed him. Entirely and completely, he needed to be in his arms and calm down from the pressure threatening to destroy him.

Finally, Neuvillette was met with a familiar envelope, and he quickly grabbed it and ripped it open. He was about to read it when his eyes found the date. This letter was six days old. No letter takes that long to get from Meropide to Palais Memoria. Especially not one from the Duke, addressed to him. He read it once, then again, and for the third time. He could feel every ounce of desperation in Wriothesley. He could feel exactly how he had felt when he wrote this.

 It seemed Wriothesley hadn't received Neuvillette's letter, as the Duke had poured his heart out, questioning if Neuvillette was even reading his letters and whether or not he had time for him. Neuvillette's heart clenched. It hurt to know Wriothesley felt that way and that he was the cause of it. 

"Enlighten me, Neuvillette, please. Make me understand things from your perspective, because I am drowning here in my own thoughts. I need to hear from you."

The words hung with Neuvillette throughout the day. He had quickly written a letter and sent it to Meropide, but he knew it most likely wouldn't arrive. He sat through a trial, barely able to focus. He needed to go see Wriothesley, even if it meant neglecting his duties and disappointing the people of Fontaine for a moment. Wriothesley was more important, and it was about time he went to see him.