Ruin Maketh Me

42 - Serenade

Julius Kade gives one last satisfied and conclusive suck of my lips and draws away calmly. He lies on top of me for some time, black hair fanning about us like a veil from the outer world, and again, that look of discomfort and loss shines in and out of his eyes. The lazy sparks of white and yellow withdraw fluttering from my mind. Ah, that's it. That's the look he had on his face yesterday, it's like he's lost in his own skin. He truly doesn't know anything does he? A ghost of a laugh rises between my lips like a half-sigh, and my hands rise up to cup his face involuntarily. So he can look just like a child too.
"You're trying to find something." I say slowly, trying the words.
"Yes." He replies after a moment.
"Well," I search for a newly forming resolution in his eyes, "did you find it?"
He rises inch by inch, and a silky strand of hair slips from his shoulders and hangs above my head, "Not yet."
     My eyes shift to the white plaster ceiling then back to the strong, almost breath-taking figure of Julius Kade. He re-adjusts his bathrobe over his shoulders, and for a flickering second, he lowers his haughty eyes to the floor as if in submission.
     "It's difficult." He admits.
     I etch the flow and ebb of the lines of his face into my mind, "It takes time."
     He doesn't answer, only stands and lets the configuration of his features harden into his usual expression of control and dominance. I slide off the table-top onto my feet weakly. It's the end of this serenade, the actors have returned to their stage, and it's time for me to leave. I run my eyes jaggedly across the room. Why had I been so torn about demons and humans? It's all to do with the same fucking problems, doesn't matter whether I'm here or there.
     "Come again tomorrow, Cynder." Julius calls without a ripple of extra emotion, throwing the curtains open to the deadened sky.
     Tomorrow? I'll be gone tomorrow night, but I bow my head anyway and say, "Yes Master."
     He grants me a mind-numbing smile of satisfaction, and I turn hurriedly towards the door before my knees can collapse under me. But before I even make it to the dully shining golden handles, his rich voice rings across the room again.
     "Tend to Ralphus."
     My heart drops like it's been hurled off a skyscraper, "Now?"
     Julius's eyes glint, and his smile deepens into a different tone, "Yes, right now."
     Again, the killer shine in the red of his eyes leave me no room to refuse, and all I can do is swing open the doors and walk into the corridor stiffly. If it's this time of the day, Ralphus would still be awake. Damn it! Julius had seen it all, the lullabies, the stroking; there must be some magical equivalent to a camera in there. I can't run away now. He'd know, and he'd force me back here.
The violet fire of Ralphus's eyes haunt my mind, in and out, the shadows and the light. My chest heaves, heart lurches. I don't want to see him.
"Do you love Sir Ralphus then?"
     It's illogical, absurd, ridiculous. Love isn't easy like that. My fingers clench into loose fists. How can I love someone when I'm in a situation like this? No, it's not just me. Who would have the audacity to love me when my own freedom, my life and fate isn't even clutched in my own hands? What an empty feeling that would be! What a unsatisfying, wretchedness that would bring! What kind of love would that be, to know that the person in front of you can be taken away at a moment's whim? Indeed, how would anyone dare to love and give up their heart? Only fools that haven't tasted the pain of a broken heart. And I'm not a fool. I refuse.
     I take in a deep breath, grab my heart firmly until it cannot and will not palpitate like an excited rabbit, and face the dully illuminated double doors of Ralphus's room. He's in there isn't he? Unconscious or awake, he's in there, and it shouldn't matter, it's my job at this moment in time. That's right, I grip the polished silver door handles, why should it bother me, whether he's awake or not? I've seen and felt his naked body numerous times, once more won't carve a piece of flesh off of me.
     The heavy doors swing open with a faint whistle of air, and I step into the familiar room. A shock of white hair turns towards me from the bed, and even in the purple, blue glow of the feeble light, his purples irises shine just as lustrously as in daylight. His eyes widen, and my spirit plunges into an icy sea. In this split second, his facade of indifference is stripped bare, and instead, it's confusion, panic, fear and embarrassment that flow from the angles of his face.
He scrabbles for the burgundy bed sheet under him, fixes me with a half-put up front of coldness, and shouts "Get out!"
     My feet are fixed on the floor, I cannot move. Throw me out of here, I plead with my eyes, if you do, if you do, we don't have to go through this. But he doesn't. All he does is wrap the sheets around his body like they're his line of defense. Please. But still, he doesn't use his magic, it's as if it's depleted. Like he's almost human. I lower my eyes to the dark wooden floor and suck in a cold breath. Where did your resolution go Cynder?
     I can do it. I've always been able to complete the things I had to do, even the things I didn't want to.
     "It's alright Ralphus," I say softly, making my way to the bed, "It's alright."
     His eyes shine like ghost fires. A phantom blur of pain and specks of betrayal. It was always going to come to this, eventually. This was a boundary that was meant to be crossed the moment I was assigned this job.
     "Get out!" He says coldly, shuffling back in the bed.
     "I'm just here to help you Ralphus," I whisper, stopping by the bedpost, "It's alright."
      My fingernails dig into the palm of my hand. What am I even saying? Just tell him Julius Kade ordered you to do it. He'll understand. Keep emotions out of this.
     "Get out." He repeats like a machine.
     "You can do it yourself Ralphus, ignore me. You can just ignore me. Just..." I grapple for words. Just what? Just pretend you didn't see me? How can I say things like that when, when I'd been in his place?
     "Get out," He squeezes out, turning his head away, "Please. Cynder. Just leave."
     I raise my aching eyes to the dark ceiling. If I could, I would. I would run away right this second, from you, from the Kades and leave this damned place. But I can't, he's watching all of this, he's watching us. Don't show such weakness in your tone. Please. Don't. Fuck. I squeeze my eyes and turn them back to Ralphus's lone back.
     "I've seen your naked body tens of times, Ralphus. I've known the things they do to you from the first day we met, don't you remember? In the carriage? You knew I was there, and yet you weren't like this then, were you?"
     A jolt passes through his shoulders. Why can't I find better words to use? Why do I sound so crude, so repugnant, just like those old men?
     —Cynder, come on, I'm doing this for your own good. You know that don't you? You should be grateful. You think other people would want to help you like this? No, no, Cynder. Trust me—
     "Please Ralphus. The nights I came here, you were awake weren't you? You knew what I was doing, yet you still let me, didn't you?"
     Another subtle jolt runs through his shoulders like a chill. Little bastard, he really was awake all the while I was holding onto him, singing and stroking his head like a mother.
     "Get out." His voice is weary and dead.
     My heart trembles. I know that tone of defeat. It's the tone that says, 'I'd rather die than have you here'. I'd rather die. Rather die. A bitterness explodes in my mouth. How awful the sound. I'd used it on Jacques hadn't I? And now, only now, do I understand why his brows would draw together as if it was he who was screaming in pain and not me. 
     "Please." My chest heaves, "Please Ralphus, look at me. Look at me!" My voice breaks, but he doesn't so much as even twitch.
     I grip the bedpost and swallow, "You don't have to be afraid, Ralphus. I'm not going to see the marks and look at you as if you were a different person. The things they do to you, they don't shape you. They don't make you who you are. You should know yourself, just how much more you have. I've seen your brilliance, you've shown it to me time and time again, that's not going to change just because of them. Don't let it make you feel inferior. Don't let me be a burden to you. Don't let me make you feel less!" Pain courses through my fingers, "Yes, it's shameful to you. It's humiliating, and sometimes you think that maybe dying isn't that bad. You think that no one could possibly understand your pain, and you're right, I can't possibly understand the exact things you've been through. But you're not giving up your pride by letting me help you. Let me share some of  your pain, however little." My voice wavers, "Let me share some of my happiness, however little. Please. Ralphus."
     Please.
     "That day on the carriage. It wasn't like... this." He whispers, "I didn't know you, you didn't matter to me. It's... different now."
     Please. My heart wrings itself bloody, "It's ok Ralphus. Please believe in me."
     He shifts and turns to face me. My chest bursts into flames, and his pupils dilute as he sees my face. His left arm shoots forwards, and the red sheet slides, discarded, around his sculpted torso.
"Don't look like that," He pleas, finger tracing the lines of my face in the air, "Like you're in pain."
I try to smile, but Ralphus's brows just twist together more, and he slides forwards towards me. Enclosing my arm gently, he pulls me onto the soft mattress tenderly, and a feather light silence falls upon us like a silk scarf. Neither of us dare to rip it apart. Even if I do, what can I say? My heart has been emptied, the dredges of that dark, ugly pit, exposed. And now, I'm naked. Barer than even Ralphus without so much as a defense.
     "Hey," I start with a sigh, "Were you really awake?"
     A red flush travels up his neck to the tip of his ears, "Not fully, but enough, yes."
     I rub my temples and let out a quiet, "Damn."
     "You sing very nicely."
     A quiet laugh slides from my throat, "I can't believe you let me rub your head."
     The flush on his face deepens to a ruddy red, and his eyes swing from my face to the opposite wall. A hint of a smile rises in my lips. I guess he isn't ready to admit that it felt good. Another silence creeps upon us, but before I can get a good look at the beautifully flowing lines of Ralphus's neck and back, he turns his gloom-reflected eyes to me again.
     "I didn't go get you today." He says carefully.
     "Yeah." I reply absently, printing his fragile yet hard handsomeness into my heart.
     His eyes drift to my right wrist, half-covered by my sleeve and flinches, "I'm sorry. I hurt you."
"What, this?" I raise my wrist, and the darkening bands emerge from within the white cloth.
"Yes." Ralphus's chocolate voice darkens, "It's shameful and behaviour unbefitting of a knight."
My eyes latch into the guilt and self reproach lurking in the bruised depths of his eyes. So this was what his apathy was about. A lightness steals upon my chest and spreads to every muscle in my limbs. He doesn't hate me, god, a laugh tumbles from my mouth, it's not because he hated me.
"You're nothing like the Kades."
His eyebrows swoop over his eyes, "It was an ugly emotion, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you." He falls silent and grasping the sheets tightly, "I didn't even realise." He says lowly.
     "Well," I say, calming my breath, "no one's a saint."
     Ralphus balls the sheets into his fists tighter, "But it's come back again, this emotion." Leaning forwards, he grasps my shoulder tentatively, "Julius Kade kissed you. Didn't he? His scent is all over you." 
     My vision gains a strange lucid quality; his face, his beautiful eyes, his hair, his body all glow ethereally, as if basked in moonlight, "Is that so?"
     "Yes." He whispers, and his grip tightens, and he leans closer, and I can see the specks of gold in the purple of his eyes, and his lips press tenderly against mine, and I can feel his breath on my face, and his scent of gentle mint surrounds me, and his nose brushes mine.
He kisses me softly.
And He parts from me like a receding tide. 
My breath hitches in my throat, and his tan skin blanches.
"What do I do?" He mutters lowly to himself, brushing his fingers through his hair ferociously, "It seems I've gotten jealous."