break; a.v. [ hiatus | rewriting ]

chapter xxiii

Apollo wandered his way towards the dungeons.  He faintly remember the way there from the tour when he first arrived.

Apollo hugged himself in comfort. He no longer felt cold, but the deeper he got into the dungeons the more his body ached. It was as if he was feeling the pain of someone else. His muscles were sore as if he's worked out for four weeks straight, and then when he finally stopped something ripped them from his bones. He grit his teeth to keep from calling out in pain. He wanted to go deeper, though. He knew whatever he would find was something vital. It was what Jax had told him. It finally made sense. It was two days ago that he had first met xem, and xe gave him the ominous advice.

Apollo took the last few steps towards what he knew Jax had warned him of. He could sense the thick wall of illusion ready to be broken. He recognized this magic. But it was like trying to identify the perfume scent by its taste. He focused on gently placing his mental hands against the illusion, seeing how hard he would have to hit without damaging the minds of those it was affecting. At first it was light banging that steadily grew harder. The punches, that if he were to have been human, would've shattered the bones in his hands.

Apollo send a deep gutters growl out and kicked the actual wall of where the illusion was placed, but his foot went through it. He hadn't expected the lack of conflicting force. He wouldn't have mind the ability to say that he had stayed standing and carefully stepped through the wall, however he landed flat on his back with a thin crack up the back of his head.

"Not you again," A voice he had been looking forward to hear groaned. His voice was weak and pained, and he sounded so desperate. Apollo hasn't expected that. In all the time he had spent with him training, and in the last few days at the castle moving their relationship further, he had never heard Aro sound desperate and... broken.

He would've given anything to not break things, to just fix it. To make him better. To see Aro at his full glory again, sitting atop and ornate throne protecting him from those who wish to harm him.

"I'm sorry," His voice cracked as Apollo's head healed and he began to move closer to the hunched over figure. He was sitting in a corner, with his legs stretched out in front of him and his perfect posture now looking like a wilted flower. So much had changed, "I did everything wrong!" Aro's throat closed around his words as he looked up to stare at Apollo with venom filled eyes.

Apollo winced as he moved to a sitting position, "Darling-" He wanted to tell him that nothing was his fault. That he was here now, that he didn't need to worry. Aro cut him off, though.

"Please," Aro looked so desperate. Apollo crawled closer to him. He wanted to offer some comfort. To tell him he loved him, or missed him. Or anything to make Aro understand this wasn't some hallucination Darcia had forced upon him. Those red venom filled eyes were so lonely.

"My Darling, please," Apollo own voice cracked as his throat tightened. He had tried to hold Aro's hand but he snatched it away, but Apollo grabbed his hand again.

"I know what you are, but-"

"I'm here," Apollo pleaded for him to see him. Feel him. Trust him, "Feel the weight of my hand, see my memories."

As he said this Apollo focused on a certain memory. Aro once said that when those who he touched focused enough on a certain memory he would be drawn in to see it.

Apollo had grown used to winding corridors. The strength of a thousand men. Of not needing to sleep. But he had yet to get used to not having the sun. Every day, when the world had become lit with sunlight, and Apollo was trapped in the castle. He felt like a caged animal. He wanted to break down every wall, and make the ceiling come crashing down around him.

The slight tremble of the walls alerted Aro, and the others, to structural integrity of the building being in jeopardy. He left the throne room sentencing whoever was speaking to death. He was already close to the judgment, but usually he taunts them more. But, now, Apollo was at risk.

Aro hurried towards where he felt the slight pull. He knew Apollo never felt it. Or he blocked it out, Aro wasn't entirely sure, he stayed away from Apollo's thoughts as much as possible. He was next to Apollo in a second. He was standing next to a closed door glaring as his hands fisted at his sides. Aro never initiated contact with Apollo. He might offer, but never forced it. However, seeing him like that made him want to hold his hand. Unfurl his fingers and interlace his and Apollo's.

"Yes?" Apollo asked, his voice hard, as Aro halted next to him, "Can I help you?" His lips were pursed, and it was clear that it wasn't a genuine question. Just a thing that he meant sarcastically because it was supposed to be his day off.

"You miss it." Aro stated taking a step closer to him, so that he stood in front of the door as well. Apollo didn't frown at the sound of his voice, instead he felt surprisingly soothed, as if his voice carried a bit of the warm rays.

"Is it that obvious?" Apollo ask weakly, giving Aro a halfhearted smile. Aro didn't saying anything, but took it as an invitation to take a step closer to the boy he had grown so fond of, "Somedays I don't mind. It's just a dull aching feeling, but other days..." Apollo left or hanging. It was clear what other days were like as he stood at the doors to where the sun waited, where exposure of the vampiric race would wait, where his death would wait.

Aro took a step forward, and, with a gloved hand, he brushed his fingers against his fist. When Apollo didn't pull away he slowly unfurled his fingers, and held his hand. He didn't lock their fingers, Aro thought that might be too bold. Instead he just held his hand.

"I understand, the garden walls are being raised currently so the outside will be available for you," Aro promised. He knew some had heard him and set to work on arranging the promise.