The Soul of a Bird Never Flies {boyxboy}

Chapter Thirty

~Sunday 16th September 2018~

"Eryll?" a quiet voice snapped the man from his trance-like state, drawing his attention to the left of him, "can I sit?" Eryll nodded curtly, shifting so he was facing Presley more as she settled at the dining table with him, "I heard what happened, I just wanted to make sure everything was OK."

"How much did you hear?" Eryll had no aversion with Presley knowing what he was, he had told Dove that before they had even driven out, but if she knew anything it would mean he would have to sit and explain for longer than he would like.

"Not much, just the raised voices really. I might be able to help though, if you're willing to tell me what happened," Eryll forced a feeble smile, admiring Presley's caring nature. Had he not been entirely sure that Dove got his kind-heartedness from Olha, he possibly would have assumed it was from his mother instead.

"Trivial stuff really," Eryll sighed, staring down at his hands, "I don't want Dove to work anymore, he doesn't agree. I..." Eryll didn't want to paint himself in a bad light, although he still wasn't sure how anyone could see him otherwise, "I have a temper, I've been told it's quite venomous," he murmured, not able to even comprehend the guilt he felt. He hated his temper, it was his least favourite aspect of himself, and the most unpredictable.

"Is this your first real argument?" Eryll nodded, not able to look Presley in the eye for the fear of how much she may hate him for hurting Dove, of course she hated him, he hated himself, "the first is always the worst. It makes you feel like everything isn't worth it, it's awful. I remember my first argument with Sawyer..." Presley's voice became distant in Eryll's mind, muffled even, as though he was listening to the woman through water instead of sitting right across from her. He expended all of his attention to focusing on the growing ache that was spreading through his body, centring in his chest, an all too familiar sensation.

"Eryll, is everything alr-"

"Dove," Eryll whispered, the world around him shifting as he set into a dead sprint down that awful fucking dock, diving into the water once he reached the end, ignoring Roy entirely. He may have felt a bubbling rage within him every time he set eyes on that man but that wasn't important. Nothing else was important. Not when Dove's soul was dying.

Eryll wouldn't say he was a particularly strong swimmer, but he had the experience. As he forced himself deeper into the murky waters, paying no attention to the stinging in his eyes and the throbbing in his lungs, he wished he had spent more time in the water. It was more than disorientating, with Eryll only able to see a few feet around him at all, his vision worsening as the panic swelled within him.

A spark of hope jolted through the man when he saw a brief glint of silver through the darkness, leading him down to the hideously still body of his lover. Forcing away the grief and the wrath, Eryll scooped Dove into his arms, taking only a few seconds before he breached the surface with the boy. He had barely stepped out of the water before he laid Dove on the ground, tears already flowing freely down his cheeks.

"Come on, kitten, wake up, open those eyes for me, Dove," Eryll begged, letting out a choked sob when he found Dove was no longer breathing, immediately starting with chest compressions, "come on, baby, you're OK, you're gonna be OK," Eryll covered Dove's mouth with his own, forcing two breaths into his lungs, a shiver tumbling down his spine at how cold the boy's lips were. It wasn't working. Nothing was working. Eryll's hope was dwindling, as was his sanity, as the seconds ticked by that Dove's breathing didn't resume.

"Viv!" Eryll yelled, knowing the witch would sense the panic in his summoning, "Vivek!" he repeated, his speech punctuated by the grunts that left his lips from the exertion of the CPR he was performing. It was only seconds before he got a response, hearing that gentle flutter of Vivek appearing beside him.