The Selection (Troyler AU)

♔Part XL♔

Okay first of all I'm on chapter 40 wtf even is this Internet Infatuation barely had 30 parts with the introduction and epilogue how am I still on this story what is even happening help.

Also the picture I tagged above is a quote from the actual Selection series - probably the only direct quote I'm putting in this story - and idk I just remember reading it and really really liking it, and swearing to myself that I'd include it at some point in the story.

Also do me a favor and listen to Kat Dahlia - preferably Gangsta, I Think I'm In Love, and Walk On Water.

Also this chapter is longer than usual so if you're in a major hurry I recommend waiting tbh.

This chapter doesn't have a lot of important stuff going on tbh, and was pretty anticlimactic :/ I hope it suffices though.

Also I wrote most of this while listening to Ghost by Ingrid Michaelson tru (and side note the last time I mentioned Ghost everyone thought I was talking about Halsey I promise you if I don't specifically say it's by Halsey I'm talking about the song by Ingrid Michaelson okay that's all glad we cleared that up).

Troye POV

Meeting my eyes one last time, Tyler gave an almost indiscernible nudge of his head towards the door. My brow scrunched in confusion for a moment, but before I could fully realize the meaning behind the gesture, he was gone, the doors already shutting behind him.

I frowned, my thoughts still stuck on whatever had happened during the conversation Tyler'd had with his parents. Of course, I was too far away to have any idea what they were saying, but I knew that it couldn't have been a pleasant situation for Tyler regardless.

Being aware of Tyler's relationship with his father has shone a new light on the way I view their interactions. I used to just see them as a fairly indifferent father and son, neither of them particularly caring about the other, but not exactly hating one another either. Now, all I could see was a dictator and his prisoner of war, with Tyler wanting nothing more than to fight and rebel, but being unable to, knowing that trying to overthrow someone as omnipotent as the King would result in nothing but hardship.

During their conversation, I could tell Tyler was trying his best to remain impassive - whether it was for his mother's sake, or the fact that he was in a public setting, I wasn't sure. And for the most part, he was able to pull it off, keeping his mother out of the boiling waters that he and his father had long since been submerged in.

Nevertheless, his posture was all wrong: he was too stiff, his shoulders rigid and his knees locked. He'd clenched his jaw tight, deliberately focusing his attention on his mother, as if his father didn't even exist.

But then again, three months ago, I probably wouldn't have even noticed that something was amiss.

I pushed myself off of the wall, casting a sweeping glance around to room to make sure no one - including the King and Queen - were watching, before quietly making my way to the door, emitting myself into the chilly nighttime air.

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He was sitting on the steps a of a small, open pavilion, looking out into the clear night's sky, his chin resting on enclosed fists.

Hands in pockets, I approached him, taking care to stamp my feet a little louder than usual, alerting him of my arrival. Noticing that he wasn't alone, he looked up quickly, only to drop his shoulders in relief when he realized that it was only me.

I sat down next to him, having to bend my knees at an odd angle in order to rest my feet on the same step as Tyler. In the back of my mind, I thought about how effortlessly it was to do so, at ease being with him, in spite of how unnerved he used to make me. It was a dramatic change - especially after such a short time span - but I had to admit, of there was one change in my life that I welcomed, this was it.