Twelve: The Feelings We Have 

Layre spends the next few days avoiding the cabin. When Anima stops him in the morning to ask how Mageus is doing, he says he must go into town. When Viessa asks if Mageus needed another calming potion, Layre lied and said he still had some left over from the time before. The women could tell his lies easily, and each time he came into the house to sleep, they only offered to glare at him as he made his way up the stairs.  

One night, Viessa had had enough of it. She storms into Layre’s temporary room late in the night after he had made up an unbelievable fib yet again.  

She had said to Anima in disbelief, “He has not seen Mageus because the weather was not fine enough? That cannot be what he said. I must have been imagining things.”  

Anima had just shrugged at her.  

“Layre, won’t you wake up? I have had enough of this.” Viessa stands outside his room, hands firm on her hips.  

Layre sits up in bed, rubbing at his eyes. He avoids her gaze, knowing exactly what she wants to talk about.  

“I don’t know what you speak of, Viessa.” He lies, curling his arms over his chest and staring out the window and into the steppe. He can hear the creature howling from here, and it makes his heart ache for Mageus.  

“I can tell when you lie. It is easy to do so.” Viessa comes and sits on the edge of the bed. She lets out a deep sigh. “When I first met you, I never imagined myself caring about you so, but you have shown a great, lovely kindness to Mageus. Are you afraid of it, the way you feel?” 

Layre says nothing.  

“Layre, it is alright.” She takes his hand into hers. “Your affections are nothing to be afraid of. It is normal to feel this way about someone.” 

“I am not afraid. I am overwhelmed.” Layre starts, unable to face Viessa, even when she shows him such kindness. “It is just, I have longed to see him since I was a child. He is the reason I train, the reason I live. To know that he may feel even a fraction of what I feel for him worries me. I know, in some way, I will mess it up.”  

“The future is frightening. It is uncertain, but it can be changed. But it will only change in your favor if you try for it, and how will you know what could have been if you do not try for it?”  

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ 

The next dawn, Layre retrieves the potions from Anima and heads out into the steppes. The cabin is a pure disaster when Layre reaches it. The door has been swung open carelessly, and the typically neat interior has been ill-tended to. Layre steps inside, glancing around for Mageus, but he is nowhere to be seen.  

Layre takes some time and cleans up. He folds the throw blanket and sets it on the couch, he cleans the kitchen, removing of any food waste, he makes Mageus’ bed, he sweeps the floor, and he buries the trash outside. In Iyelion, they burned their waste, but in Vatou, it was common to bury it. All waste material was able to decompose, so it was an efficient waste removal method.  

As Layre finishes up washing the counter-tops with a rag, he hears the door creak shut.  

“I see you have let yourself in.” A familiar voice calls, and Layre spins around. He shoves himself up against the counter, feeling the need to hide his hand with the rag in it. Even though it is quite obvious he has cleaned the place from top-to-bottom. A strong blush reddens his face, and he looks to the floor to save himself.  

“I apologize. It may not have been my place to do so, but I wished to help.” He mumbles, awaiting the scolding from Mageus. 

No scolding ensues, in fact, Mageus lets out a bizarre laugh.  

Layre immediately assumes he is laughing at him, so he looks out the window with furrowed brows.  

Mageus crosses the cabin and stands before Layre.  

“What have I done to make you like this?” He asks softly, lifting his hand to set his fingers on Layre’s chin. He guides Layre’s gaze to his own. Layre’s heart begs to leap from his chest; this was getting to be too much for him. 

“Nothing.” Layre sighs heavily, and it is the truth.  

“Then what is the matter?”  

“It is far too much for me to explain.” Layre tells him, taking in his face now. Mageus looks as though the past few days have been troublesome for him, too. His eye-bags have grown impossibly dark, his hair is wild and more unkempt than usual, and his eyes are pale with worry. “I fear I will sound a fool if I attempt to do so.” 

“You have never sounded a fool. And even if such a thing does happen, I will still listen.” Mageus brings his hand up to glide through Layre’s dark brown hair. Layre closes his eyes, enjoying the sensation. Mageus tilts his head, understanding it now. “Is it this? You fear the feelings we have?” 

“Maybe.” Layre bites his lip, drawing slight blood. Mageus drops his hand down to rest his palm against his cheek. He regains the brunette’s attention.  

“There’s no need for fear, and it surely isn’t right for you to disappear for days. Your absence causes me a deep worry.” Mageus pauses, embarrassed of what he wished to say next. He says it anyway. “None have shown me true kindness and companionship like you have. I fear that I may lose you. That I may scare you away. I feared that you had left because I had already managed it.”  

“No. That could never happen.” Layre reassures him, eyes burning with a passion only Mageus could create within him.  

“Then what makes you so afraid?” Mageus withdraws his hand, stepping back. Sadness seeps onto his face like the black blood that oozed from his eyes every time the moon touched him. 

“I do not know what to do.” Layre whispers, sheepish about it. “I have never had affections for anyone else. For me, the affections I have for you run deeply. The roots are old.” 

Mageus stares at him, eyes wide with pure astonishment.  

“Do you possibly mean that you have felt this way for me before--” 

“Before I ever met you, yes.” Layre is completely avoiding his gaze. “I’m truly sorry. I know such a thing is strange to hear, but it is the truth. I came here wishing to save you, and I tried to push my feelings aside, but your soul has captured me. And you are ever better than my imaginings of you. To have you here, to speak with you and know you have listened--”  

Mageus does not let him continue, as he has leaned forward and into Layre’s personal space. Layre is caught well off guard by it, but he cannot dwell on this feeling for long, since Mageus has just kissed him for the first time.  

He feels Mageus hold him at his waist, drawing him closer, pulling him deeper. The kiss is simple, as Layre has absolutely no idea of what to do, but it proves fine. His heart is racing, mind aflutter too greatly for him to worry about the details. All he knows is the feeling, the softest touch. Mageus pulls away, just an inch from Layre’s mouth still.  

“Oh.” Layre manages, to which Mageus laughs so sweetly, right into his ear.  

“My heart couldn’t take it any longer, dear. If you had kept going, I would have had an early death.” Layre slaps his chest, embarrassed by his teasing.  

“Do not joke about such things.”  

Mageus tips his head forward, touching his nose gently to Layre’s. 

“Thank you kindly for cleaning my horrid cabin. And thank you for not teasing me for its putrid state.”  

“I found it endearing my absence caused you such a plight.” Layre replies. 

“Endearing? I think better suiting words would be pathetic, pitiful, even poignant.”  

“Alright. That’s enough of that.” Layre interjects, chuckling warmly and pulling Mageus into an intimate embrace which is gladly returned. “Have you hunted already? If not, I shall like to come along, and we can further discuss our plan to break your curse.”  

“No, I have yet to.” Mageus says, drawing away from the embrace and walking over to grab his bow. He slings the quiver over his shoulder and gestures towards the door. “Come on then, while the time is still good for it.”