Work Text:
After yet another arduous day of work, with a heavy sigh and a heavy heart I leave my humble office here at the Headquarters and set out to the rooftops.
Those imbeciles... what were they thinking?! They were this close to breaking a Taboo, don't they realize what risks they're taking? Why don't they ever listen to me!?
Haah... I feel so drained. Hearing others' frail excuses and bearing their fragile egos, I feel myself drift off and away yet again, as if I'm but an empty vessel for others' to fill with their trumpery. Stars really do make for the best company at these times. A shame that they hide themselves so well for the common City folk who can't afford a good telescope — perhaps if any of those people knew the true value that lies in the sky, they would've tried building aircrafts like in the good ol' days.
I put my hands down against the railing separating me from my fall, looking down for a moment to take in the City's shadow, then raise my head up to stare at the cold, empty sky. My friends are not here today, sadly. The coldness of the iron railing continuously digs into my bare palms, contrasting beautifully against my rising stress-induced fever...
Today is (supposed to be) my birthday.
In this day and age, celebrating one's birthday can be considered a privilege. In a lot of cases, due to certain upbringing, one can even end up with no certain date of birth at all, though that does not mean that most others that do possess a date to call their own can celebrate it freely. Some don't have the time, most don't have the people near them to share their day with — I have neither.
I am well aware of the privileges that already come with my high position and established status. As such, I feel nothing about losing a "special day" for myself. At the very least, I wished for this day of mine to bring me calm... The biggest gift one could give me today would be for them to not bother me with—!!
Gritting my teeth, both to calm my growing frustration and to ease my headache, I dig around my pockets for a pack and a lighter. With great impatience, my fingers slip time and time again as I try lighting it, my other hand trembling at the cold wind washing over me all of the sudden... Finally, I see a spark of flame, and being the glutton that I am I quickly light the other end of my cigarette and hungrily put it up against my dry lips with a shaky sigh.
Cough... Hack— Cough-Cough...
I threw myself down against the railing in disappointment. However rich my pack of cigs was, their taste had become dull to my aching tongue today, it seems. A mixture of cold and heat had spread all around me and provided me with great discomfort — I felt as though I was submerged in a cup of poorly microwaved milk half hot and half cold, swirling around between the two, both of which make my stomach turn in their undiluted mixture.
I put my cigar out in defeat. An irredeemably horrible day it shall be, then.
Or so I thought, until I heard the heavy doors to the rooftop behind me slowly creak open. Turning my head back, I was just about to groan and shoo the unwelcome guest away, but was met with the gaze that had made my blood boil sweetly— no, my spine tremble— no, no, he made the marrows of my bones melt, as odd as it might read to anyone else, but describing the way that that gaze affected me would be to abandon physicality and turn to pseudoscientific measurements of my weakened aura field and the heat of my soul.
I didn't hold back a smile, for I had nothing to hide in front of him. I could see the way he attempted to break free from the gaze of my own, could see how his hand immediately went to grab the door again in an attempt to leave but in the end hesitated... He was not happy to see me, that much was clear, yet he couldn't bring himself to leave.
Forgetting all about my nagging headache, words left my mouth completely unburdened. “What brings you here tonight, Red Gaze?”
He sighed, as groggily as ever. “Fresh air. What about you?”
“...Hm. Peace and quiet, I suppose. The air too, though I...” I quickly lose my breath. I wasn't sure if it was because of the painful heat washing over me once more or because he was still staring me down. “...Ah, it's nothing you should concern yourself over.” I laughed lightheartedly.
“Your voice sounds awful. I suggest concerning yourself over your health before you kick the bucket all too early.”
“Ahaha, your concerns are all too... flattering.” Why yes, my voice does sound much worse than usual. I adore his honesty, which he might think I'd interpret as rudeness, but I wholly enjoy it none the less. The way he attempts to care for someone like me...
“...I have been brought here for a reason, wasn't I?” He sighed, annoyance clear in his voice.
I may not have full control of it, but it is true that he has been brought here for a reason most likely... These days, the more I grow my influence, the more things and people around me shift to my will, almost subconsciously. At some points in the past I had to wish upon stars or pray to myself for my wants to materialize, but now, before I can even know it, my guide is being brought over to me whenever my heart dares to sink even an inch. This greater power of mine scares even me...
So I said, “Won't you indulge me for tonight?”
I am nothing to him. I am well aware of that fact, as I respect him deeper than any other man that I've witnessed the story of here in the City. I love his cold character, his grey morality and scars both visible and not, his distant attitude. However, as I am a very selfish human being, I can't help but want to have some of his time for myself, for my special day.
“I suppose I have nothing better to do.” He replied simply, almost as if I hadn't bent his words for him, his relaxed demeanor surprised me as he came closer.
“...Of course, your schedule should be free around this time. Of course.” I grinned to myself with my face off to the side.
“I'm impressed by you being able to not bother any and all of your coworkers with your birthday as you go about your day.”
Huh... Am I really that narcissistic in his eyes?
“I don't even bother myself with it, you know?” I couldn't help but roll my eyes.
“How quaint.”
“Oh, are you yourself concerned with it?”
“Concerned is one way to put it.” He crossed his arms, leaning onto the same railing I did minutes ago. “I hope you're not expecting my presence next to you right now to be a gift, is all.”
Ah, shoot... he is awfully perceptive of my worst parts.
“You know me too well. Although I can consider your presence a gift any day of the year.”
Sigh. “If you'll let me be honest here for a moment, this sugary syrupy talk of you singing your praises to me and playing up your self-deprication is quick to tire me. I was just planning to stay awake for tonight and what might come tomorrow, but you seem set on lulling me to sleep right then and there.”
“Oh— pardon me,” Even if I knew he's long stopped seeing my apologies as sincere, I can't help myself. “I'll cease the tiresome—”
“And cut down on the flowery speech.”
“...I apologize.”
Hm. I am supposed to be in a higher position than him and all, but oft do I find myself unable to retort to the Red Gaze's criticisms of me. I can't help sounding pathetic next to a Color Fixer, I'm sure I wouldn't be the only one feeling that way...
Vergilius. Just uttering his name sends shivers down my spine. I consider myself to be an enjoyer of life's simplest joys — when needs be, I can stare at a singular cloud moving through the sky and be content with letting my eyes follow it in its travels. People watching in particular is a prominent hobby of mine, trying to read into the common folk's stories hiding beneath their troubled faces and torn garbs is such fun... and sometimes names hide the biggest, most interesting tales.
His name holds such weight, not just in society, but in history, as little as there might remain of it. I've read all of it, multiple times, I've constructed various theories and speculations on his motives and actions that follow... Still, that weight hasn't lessened one bit. I'm afraid that I'll never get to understand him in full, yet it is also why I'm so allured by him in the first place.
Haha... I hold a hand over my grinning mouth, trying to hold back the heated breaths that leave me and form small clouds of white in the cold air in front of me. I feel his eyes on me. He must know how I feel, I'm sure of it.
I can't help it, whenever he's so near... My mind returns to all the pages I've read and noted on him — my books on him are by far bigger than on anyone else, and the thought of being able to move on to making my own history with him... I can hear my blood pulse in my ears and my mouth feels awfully dry. Neither helps my headache or cold, but I indulge none the less.
And speaking of indulging...
“You should really take some medicine or something.”
I gulp as quietly as I can at his voice that feels so much louder in my head all of the sudden.
“It'll pass me like it always does.” I said.
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that.”
Why, despite my frequent subconscious shifts of the narrative, those only make his words more cruel? Must I be honest with myself and admit that I enjoy his mean remarks? Or does this headache really make me lose grip of reality?
Either way, I do wish to... indulge for this one birthday of mine, today. Tonight.
Just as I start to think that, a hand wraps itself around my waist and a man's chest approaches mine menacingly.
“Ver...?” I mutter under my breath. I get rewarded with no response.
I look up at him and he stares back at me in complete silence, I can't even hear him breathe. Maybe it's because of my rushing heartbeat muffling my hearing, maybe it's because...
My breath caught up in my throat as another hand of his had suddenly tug on my tie — a Feather's equivalent of a collar on a leash. I stumbled closer to his broad figure.
All he said was “Is this what you Didn't you ask for me to indulge you?”
I gasped, though I was not allowed to take a breath further, as my pained head delicate face was raised up roughly by its chin. His fingers dug pleasantly painfully into the bone of my jaw.
“Haah... That same old face of yours.” He practically spit at me, his glare judgemental, yet... “Enjoying whatever I happen to say and happen to do... a person not to be reasoned with but dragged over to wherever needs be.”
I sighed hissed. “...How can one treat their superior so... rudely?”
“A freak such as You've never complained. Not when I was dreadfully polite, nor when I sickened you with honesty. Took my word as gospel.” Another textured sigh left his mouth and brushed against my face. “I do wonder if you have a thing for Fixers or something. People like you sure love to ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■”
“N-No, of course not! How could you imply such things about me? My admiration of you is more than—”
“You can drop the√\/^_______
......
Moments of silence such as these, with time all around me seemingly coming to a halt, force me into self-reflection. Like a loathsome writer, I stare at my own words on paper, look over them over and over again — how could I say such things? How could I make him say such things? Where will it all go now?
I despise these pauses. A person being left all alone with their thoughts can lead to unimaginable horrors, I said once, in an attempt to describe my condition to some others, these "holes in the narrative" that I occasionally fall through and have to make my way out of. They called me mad. In this City? What a petty insult.
Still, focus is key, and as such I must asses my situation and come up with a solution to this... mess of a chapter.
“■■■■■■■■■■■■”
Ugh, nothing is... I can't think of anything. My headache pulses against my skull, all of my thoughts turn to mush as though I'm drifting off to sleep, cold sweat collects under my shirt— And then my trail of thought cuts off, just like that!
No, I must return things to how they were before, but I'm—
“—■■■ ■■■■ ■■ ■■■■ ■■■■ too deep ■■ ■■■■■■■ already—”
“—■■■ are you ■■■■■ ■■■ ■■ ■■■■■■ just like ■■■■■ ■■ ■■■■■■ ■■—”
“—■■■■ ■■■ ■■■■■■■ ■■■ ■■■■■■■■■ ■■■■ ■■■■■■ ■■■■■■■ ■■ ■■■■ ■■■■■■—”
A small shiver runs up my legs, the smallest bit of cold, but just enough to realize — or simply feel, rather — that I was about to fall over. His voice and my own seem more distant now, I can't stop my eyes from...
..............
........
...
The quietest pitter patter of a frosty drizzle awakens me ever so slowly. The further I awaken, the stronger the sensation of small drops of water hitting the top of my head and face becomes. Soon, I realize that I am sitting all the way down, back against the railing, and that the light drizzle I imagined was actually a growing downpour. The rain's intense white noise was quick to fill my ears even as those got covered up by my drenched hair.
Hah... It's as if he was never even there. Like always.
The greater flow of our reality, our lives, that current that eventually connects all of humanity in a single pool, has abandoned me since a long time ago. Each and every one of us follows a flow whether we know it or not, and I know that I do not. I have long struggled to find a course in my life, have struggled to affect others around me, all as if I was but a spectator to another's greater tale. I suppose that's what lead me to take great interest in collecting all these various special faces all around the City...
Eventually, however, I was granted an opportunity to change the flow's course — rewrite history ahead of time, so to speak — which is how I got to where I am right now.
Still, there are some fundamental things that refuse to change. Like a spoiled child I cried at what wouldn't bend to my will, all before accepting my rigid position in life, and—
Sigh... I must stop spiraling into my thoughts again before I catch a cold out here. Grabbing onto the railing for dear life as I rose back to my knees, then to my feet, I wiped the wetness off my face despite knowing how fruitless my efforts would be only to find blood covering my palm from my active nosebleed... yuck.
Now, making my way back safely (as far as my aching head and trembling cold legs could provide that safety), I do have to wonder if the Red Gaze was really there at the beginning or if I've forced him into existence on the rooftop from the very start. I doubt he was ever there, really, he was not one to leave behind someone half conscious like that. Although considering our relationship...
I wouldn't be surprised if he'd want to see me suffer. It is why he's accepted being my guide, after all.