i fell in love with a war
Casimir scrambles down the back staircase, body thumping against the walls and feel thumping roughly against each creaking step. People downstairs likely think some poor patron has been shoved down the stairs, but it's just Casimir allowing his mistakes to knock him down. His sins are crawling up his back; the look of Thorn's face when he roughly shoved him off his lap flickers between that open, curious look he gave him when asking those awful, gentle questions about his past.
Thorn would never forgive him, he thinks, and the man shouldn't. Casimir has hurt him too many times that evening, shoved him away too many times, made him think he's done something wrong by trying to get close when really it was that awfulness in Casimir that sent him fleeing. He almost goes back, almost finds his way to the enchanted room to rip apologies from his throat and make sure Thorn knows it wasn't his fault.
But he can't. Instead, he flies down the stairs like a coward, hiding in the shadows of the House of Midnight and making his way to his little secret room all the way in the back. He's almost certain no one knows it exists except for Sunjata and perhaps one courtesan who got lost one day. When he tumbles inside, he latches it and heaps down onto the bed, putting his head in his hands.
His palms on his cheek land on the same place where Thorn's had been and he rips them away, trying to preserve the memory of the touch as best he could. Thorn would realize this was better for him, eventually. He'd push Casimir out of his mind and move onto kinder, better, more open prospects. He'd find someone who deserved him.
As the feelings rose in his chest, rearing and ugly, he lets himself fall backwards onto the bed, mind drifting away. He'd bite through the pain, bury it down and arrive on time for his shift the next day with no one the wiser.
He bit his lip and tried not to scream.
Thorn would never forgive him, he thinks, and the man shouldn't. Casimir has hurt him too many times that evening, shoved him away too many times, made him think he's done something wrong by trying to get close when really it was that awfulness in Casimir that sent him fleeing. He almost goes back, almost finds his way to the enchanted room to rip apologies from his throat and make sure Thorn knows it wasn't his fault.
But he can't. Instead, he flies down the stairs like a coward, hiding in the shadows of the House of Midnight and making his way to his little secret room all the way in the back. He's almost certain no one knows it exists except for Sunjata and perhaps one courtesan who got lost one day. When he tumbles inside, he latches it and heaps down onto the bed, putting his head in his hands.
His palms on his cheek land on the same place where Thorn's had been and he rips them away, trying to preserve the memory of the touch as best he could. Thorn would realize this was better for him, eventually. He'd push Casimir out of his mind and move onto kinder, better, more open prospects. He'd find someone who deserved him.
As the feelings rose in his chest, rearing and ugly, he lets himself fall backwards onto the bed, mind drifting away. He'd bite through the pain, bury it down and arrive on time for his shift the next day with no one the wiser.
He bit his lip and tried not to scream.
Casimir
and nobody told me it ended
