Shock etched itself on Icarus’ features at the sight of Briar along with another man. He was unable to get a good look at the young man’s companion but put more priority on the protection of Briar. He was merely passing by, a small task of escorting the king’s youngest son around town was given to him and his group. They were told to prepare for anything. Icarus was. What he didn’t prepare his heart for was to see Briar boarding the train with a stranger. Something the young man hadn’t done before in his many tirades of meeting suitors left and right. And it scared Icarus.

It scared him that perhaps Briar has decided to settle down with someone else. Someone who isn’t Icarus, the man who broke his heart after all those years of being together. He knew Briar deserved better than a man who kept running away instead of confronting his problems. Icarus knew Briar deserved someone who would fight for him, unlike Icarus who could only stand in silence as his mother berates him for loving a human being. Briar deserved better and Icarus should let him go.

And yet, he couldn’t.

Terrified, he didn’t know what possessed him to grab the unsuspecting young master by the shirt when he saw him at the train station. He was certain love had its tendency to make him do the craziest things. Icarus wanted Briar, yanking him back into his arms and saying he didn’t mean the heartbreaking words he spoke that day.

That he loves Briar as much as he did.

But reality had to color his vision and his mind was as clear as day. He was only hurting Briar. Defeated, Icarus lets go of Briar and took off with his heart spouting endless questions before the young man could chance upon the person who grabbed him suddenly. Questions plagued his soul as he went about his day, thoughts filled with Briar and why he was there. Boarding the train, off to have fun with a man he didn’t recognize or knew. He wanted to turn back and chase after them—find out where they were heading and claim Briar as his. But Icarus never did.

“Icarus, there you are! I’ve been looking for you all day!”

“Why are you hurt? Are they treating you badly in the academy?”

“Icarus, you should wear a coat. I heard it’ll snow hard later this afternoon.”

“Have you eaten? You look tired.”

“Where have you been these couple of days? You had me worried sick.”

“Can we meet later this evening? I want to spend time with you.”

“Icarus?”

Briar has confessed to Icarus thirty-eight times. Explicitly while the other times guised in his inquiry for his well-being because Briar cared more than Icarus’ own family. And in those thirty-eight times, Icarus either turned down his offer to go out, to eat together, to spend time with one another and his love. He rejected every chance given to him by the young man to return the love he has unconditionally showered him since then. But he continued to push the young man away in hopes of protecting him from his family.

The Lir family celebrated his pain, leaving Icarus to quietly hold back his anguish as he accepted whatever was thrown his way to make them happy. It was his fault for not being strong enough—unable to protect Briar from the claws of his terrifying mother and siblings.

Icarus felt like an idiot that day.

The news of Briar and a man named Castriel Persimore seeing each other spread like wildfire across town. It wasn’t soon that it fell on Icarus’ ears one day while standing on guard at the palace walls. The gossiping young women were chattering quite loudly and were wondering whether Briar Solentine is finally getting married. With the strange man’s identity coming to light, it left the nephilim wondering for hours until he was dismissed. Instead of retiring to the barracks with all the other soldiers, Icarus found his way back to his old home and in front of the Lir family household. Dinner was forgotten and was still in his dirty uniform. His primary objective was to know whether Briar was really marrying Castriel Persimore.

“Icarus? You’re back so soon!” Katarina Lir smiled in surprise, welcoming her son into the manor. “Is there a problem back at the palace? Or are you here to visit us?”

He had to find out.

“I heard Briar is getting married. Is this true?”

Katarina Lir made a face, one that did not hide her displeasure nor hatred for the young master of the Solentine household next door. “Are you still lusting after that young man? Is that all you ever think of? Leaving the palace grounds, travel all the way from there, to ask me about that filthy boy?!” Pointing a finger at Icarus, she sneered. “If I hadn’t made it clear, you are never marrying Briar even if I am on my death bed! I despise the very ground he walks upon so don’t you dare bring up that boy’s name in this house ever again!”

It proved to be useless to ask his mother who hated the Solentines. Ever since she suspected her husband harboring love for Lady Margareth, Katarina Lir has never known peace again. Seeing no other choice, Icarus didn’t say another word as he walked out of the manor. His mother called for him to come back left ignored as he walked up to the house next door. It was eerily quiet, having it packed with guests on a Friday evening was the norm for Lady Margareth Solentine was the busiest socialite. Icarus feared for the worst when no one answered the bell ringing to announce his presence.

Are they out? Icarus peeked through the glass, trying to make out whether anyone was inside. But the lights are turned on… Surely, they wouldn’t leave the house unattended?

“Hello? Is anyone here?” Finding that the door was unlocked, Icarus entered the house and began searching for Lady Margareth and her butler. It was when he entered the dining room that his leather boots were met with shattered glass scattered all over the floor. The glass windows were broken and a huge rock sat in the middle of the room, obviously the culprit. It wasn’t the broken glass that heightened his alarm, but the blood that was mixed into it.

“I-Icarus? Is that you?”

The soldier spun around at the familiar voice of Lady Margareth. Despite having a gash on her bandaged forehead, she still wore a welcoming smile. Dried blood stains were evident on the dress she wore. The butler, Kingsley, followed suit behind her. He also had a few scars on his cheeks that were covered by a salve, yet remained cordial.

“Lady Margareth, what happened here?”

༻❈༺

Whether Briar was in love with someone else, Castriel didn’t care. He knew love cannot be forced nor easily forgotten. Castriel wanted to know, curious as to why he loved Icarus Lir. Yet, he found out it was the wrong question to ask on a bright sunny day meant for enjoyment. The mood plummeted south as quickly as lightning could strike a tree on a stormy night. Perchance Castriel kept his curiosity all to himself, would Briar be acting the same way? Perhaps not.

Briar may not admit it aloud, but he took full responsibility for the sudden shift of the atmosphere—from their merry interactions to that of silent nodding and stares. He did not know what to say or the answer to such a question. The things he said to Castriel and what followed continued to play in his mind akin to a broken music box.

“Castriel, I hope you could lose your interest in such an inquiry,” Briar stated lowly, unable to hear the cold tone in own his voice with the means of brushing the question and the suitor off. “I prefer not to answer it, nor will ever. I apologize.”

“Briar—”

“Please excuse me… I suddenly don’t feel like being out in the open.” Standing up, Briar headed down the path back to the house. “I want to be alone for a while...”

Regret and guilt. Briar cried in his room the whole afternoon at how Icarus tied him down like an anchor to a ship. Unable to leave or set sail to a new course. Every emotion he held back to cling to sanity was slipping out the cracks of the wall he erected in order to fight it back. The young man wanted to like Castriel, find the same love with him—the love Icarus and he never shared. And after the hateful statement Icarus shot at him, Briar wished he wouldn’t have to rely on love to live. For what was love other than suffering?

The same love that hurt him over and over again.

Castriel had every right to worry for the young man’s health. It was even more concerning for he did not eat during tea time and now dinner was fast approaching, yet no signs of hunger came from Briar. Dead eyes were all he received when he came down upon Castriel’s request that afternoon.

It was eight in the evening and the exact hour when the sorcerer finally finished cooking up a nutritious meal. Clearing his throat, Castriel stood in front of Briar’s room and knocked three times.

“Briar, it’s dinner time.”

The sound of clattering was muffled from the other side. Expecting he would get turned down, the sorcerer’s eyes widened a fraction when Briar then opened the door with a stone-cold expression on his usually cheerful disposition. Without exchanging words, the two walked down and ate dinner silently. Or so Castriel thought.

The museum curator was in the middle of cutting his fish apart when the young master let out a long groan, snapping the sorcerer’s attention to him fully. But Castriel welcomed the strange noise. It was better than the silence between them earlier. Briar’s face was hidden from his view as the young master lowered his head, shaking it slightly. Castriel cocked his head to the side slightly, wondering what was bothering him.

“We can’t go on like this. It’s awkward…”

“Briar?”

Shooting up from his seat, Briar then had on the usual smile and flashed it at the oblivious sorcerer. The instantaneous grin was close to blinding him momentarily. “Castriel, I’m sorry for ruining our picnic earlier. Perhaps I was too melancholic—no, I was melancholic. But not anymore! I won’t allow an unrequited love to ruin what we have right now.” The young master left his seat and headed for the kitchen, still smiling. The sorcerer didn’t touch upon the subject of the unrequited love Briar mentioned, knowing fully well its consequences, and stayed silent. He merely returned the smile. “How about I make you a drink as an apology? Would you like wine?”

At the mention of the beverage, Castriel chuckled lightly. “No thank you. I can’t drink wine tonight. I have to finish writing this paper—”

“What? I thought you are here to relax and unwind?” Pouting, Briar shook his head disappointedly at the museum curator. “All this time, you’ve been working behind my back?” At the accusatory tone, one might see it as teasing or sowing guilt into the person. However, for Briar, it was the latter and a way to convince Castriel to lower his guard.

And the sorcerer did oh so easily.

“All right, I heard you.” Castriel grinned, watching Briar take off into the kitchen to pour him a glass of wine. He was indeed in need of a drink after having put through the young master’s cold shoulder. It was the least he could do to calm his frazzled nerves after mulling over what he should have done to lighten up Briar’s foul mood earlier. Castriel was secretly glad it was over now. He didn’t want to be on Briar’s bad side.

“Here you go.” Presenting a cup of wine to the sorcerer, Briar brought his own. Once Castriel received his, the young man then held his own glass up for a toast. “Here’s to new beginnings, Mr. Persimore.”

Castriel wasn’t a lightweight. He may not be drinking on a daily basis, doing only so on important occasions or on a stressful night, he knew how to handle his liquor. And yet, somehow, after taking a few more sips of the wine Briar prepared, he felt the whole room spin. It wasn’t too soon that he leaned back on his chair, letting sleep claim him. Unaware of the glances Briar was giving him all throughout the evening as he unknowingly sipped the wine containing a sleep-inducing potion.

“Sleep well, Castriel.”

The thirty-first of October. Tomorrow—the first day of November.