Chapter Text
Shane rarely felt at ease, even in his own bedroom he always felt like something might be hiding in a dark corner, or on the balcony right outside his large window. Frankly too large of a window if you were to ask him.
“How come someone like me, a clear target, has to sleep in a room with such a massive window?” He had protested many times to his mother. Yuna had sighed and shook her head, her dark blue and silver locks falling gently over her bare shoulders.
“You are a prince, Shane, you can’t just show weakness and fear like this. Besides, the windows really compliment the size of the room, you know how much I care about this palace”. His mother was…well she was unique. A strong, independent woman, a warrior of her own that had to retire once she married the king had her son. She never stopped being a warrior though, she just shifted her interests a bit and decided to be both the palace interior designer and his personal instructor.
Shane was a fabulous warrior, his sword fast and precise, just like his mother’s. Almost, like his mother’s. He could never really reach her level, but that’s because he took from his father too. He wasn’t a soldier, he never once in the past had to use a weapon. King David was a kind man, a pacifist, an healer. His power came from within, just like Shane’s.
“Also, how do you think someone could get to your room anyway? We are on the tenth floor, you specifically wanted the tower all to yourself… our enemies don’t have wings! Not all of them anyway” Yuna had added one day, making Shane’s blood freeze in his veins. What did she mean “not all of them”? Their rival reign had only normal people, no wings…was she hiding some other potential threat to their reign?
He knew it though, no one could have really gotten into his room that easily. Winged or not, they would have had to pass the fierce guard line downstairs, and then climb up a very vertical wall.
But then why was he feeling so unsettled today? He turned towards the window, darkness engulfing the forest in front of it. If he didn’t look down he couldn’t even see the edge of their own city, only the dark tips of very tall trees, standing tall in the humid summer night. Shivering a bit as the wind caressed them. Shane scanned the darkness for clues. He didn’t dare to open the window and step outside, a shiver down his spine had told him not tonight.
Nothing was out there, and he convinced himself that the more he stared outside the more his brain was going to make up shapes.
It had been a fairly calm couple of weeks, something had stopped the other reign from attacking them constantly. There was no real war going on, not like decades before where the victims piled up on the streets of both cities, but there was no real truce either. The last time they crossed swords in the forest a lot of warriors came back severely injured on both parts, so this was the calm before the storm… the usual couple of weeks needed for both parties to get back in action.
Shane sighed and closed the curtain, a large blue and heavily decorated piece of fabric Yuna had let him hang there. It ruined the vision, but he promised her to only draw it at night when no one could have noticed. She had rolled her eyes, clearly knowing that no one was going to notice anyway and that her son was just making fun of her, but she just accepted that fate and let him have his way.
He decided to quickly wash his face and go to bed, he couldn’t shake off the weird feeling in his chest today, it was worse than other times, like he was being watched. But he needed to sleep, he had practice the morning after. And his mother didn’t like it when he was late.
The young prince didn’t like being late either, and his morning before practice had to follow certain rules, a routine.
First a nice stretching session on his large and soft carpet, then a tall glass of water, a perfect cool temperature if possible, and finally he would have had his breakfast. Eggs, some bread and one fresh fruit. Some of his fellow soldiers called him a freak behind his back, but he thought he was just well organized and consistent. Consistency made him a better soldier, more precise and controlled in his moves.
He sighed again and finally closed his eyes. Tonight my chest really feels tight.
«Shane… Shane, can-»a sudden voice woke him up, making him jolt on his bed. He looked around, his eyes wide open in the complete darkness of his room. His breathing getting faster as he realized he could only hear silence.
«I know this is a stretch» pause, the voice again, was it in his…mind? «you won’t probably, ugh, even hear me. But you know what they say…»
Shane was immobile on his bed, sitting up and freaking out slightly. Someone was in his head. Someone he…knew. “What the actual fuck?” he whispered hoarsely.
The whisper in his head continued, laboured, tired, «I honestly don’t even think this will work. But they say mental connection works with people you share a deep emotional bond with…» another long pause, an excruciatingly long pause that left Shane even more confused than before.
«It may not be love… but hate is a pretty strong feeling too. So I'm shooting my shot with this. You probably aren’t even listening…» oh but he was. A chuckle resounded in Shane’s ears. He had heard that chuckle so many times, it was so infuriating that he immediately clenched his fists.
Hate, he was right, that hate they shared brought those words all the way to Shane’s ears even if clearly the person speaking them was not in his room.
«Listen, Shane,» his name said in such a soft tone he would have never imagined it coming from those lips, «I know this is impossible, and it will never happen, but I think I fucked up pretty badly this time… I’m very hurt. I fell in a ditch in the forest and I have no way of getting out.»
Shane’s brows furrowed, a weird feeling was shaking his whole body. Why was he, talking to him. What did he want?
«It’s dark, and I'm so cold…can you» silence again. Long interminable seconds that felt like years made Shane scoot to the edge of his bed. Almost as if he wanted to get closer to a voice that was getting faint and distant as time went by.
“What? Can you what? What do you want Ilya?” Shane whispered between gritted teeth. He wasn’t going to reply to him, no way. But he could ask his room at least.
After what felt like some extra years the voice resounded in his mind again. «Can you come and help me get out of here?»
There it was. A ridiculous request.
What the actual fuck? Absolutely not, no way in hell he was going to fall for such a stupid trap. As a matter of fact he wasn’t even going to acknowledge him. Answering him was out of the question anyway. First of all it would have meant acknowledging the bond between them, hatred or not, it gave him such a weird grimy feeling. Second of all he wasn’t going to give Ilya the satisfaction of having an answer.
He grunted and tightened his fists, this was the first time that bast…his enemy dared to do something so slimy. It was too much even for him. His thick accent, his suave voice, now feeble, resounding in Shane’s mind, ringing in his ears even now that all he could hear was the pounding of his increasingly mad heart.
His lips were pressed together in a long line, he was pressing them so hard that he started to feel them getting numb. They had met on the battlefield a few times, more than a few, and they always had a fair duel, given that it was always an almost fatal one. But this?
«You won’t come, right? Why would you…» another whisper, another chuckle. His voice was so deep it made Shane's hair stand up on the back of his neck.
“Stop it”. he whispered, closing his eyes shut and shaking his head, hoping to shake him out of it.
«It’s my fault, for thinking it would work. But I… it’s just weirdly lonely down here. I can only see rocks, I think I fell pretty deep, you know?» A very laboured chuckle barely made it to Shane’s ears “I can’t call anyone to rescue me, isn’t it funny? I don’t even know if it is working with you…maybe you’re superior to all of this. The perfect prince, with his perfect life, I bet you don’t even have feelings of hate strong enough to hear me. Superior indeed” the last word came out weird, it felt forced.
Was Ilya really trapped somewhere? Was he really having a hard time using his powers to communicate with him?
Shane looked around the room, his eyes had adjusted to the darkness pretty quickly in the past half an hour he had spent awake. He didn’t know what time it was, but it was definitely the middle of the night. He didn’t even realize he was standing now, looking out the window, almost as if he could have read the forest for answers.
His body was tensing up and relaxing rapidly, something was off and not what he thought it was.
“Fuck.”
He said once, as he snatched a pair of pants neatly folded on the chair next to the window.
“Fuck, fuck…fuck, FUCK” he huffed and puffed as he wore a shirt and his boots. This was the stupidest idea ever. He glanced towards his sword and for a moment he even debated whether to take it with him or not. Don’t be ridiculous, it’s Ilya we are talking about. he quickly took his sword and tied it to his waist, then he opened his wardrobe and took a long dark cape with a hood.
In a few seconds out he was, almost sliding across the steps of the tower, his feet barely making any noise. Was he sneaking out of his own castle like some sort of thief?
A loud sound from a lower floor made him jump on his feet, his heart racing when he realised he was hanging outside one of the windows.
He looked down, it was a few floors only, he could make it but it was probably a stupid idea. As he moved to pull himself back inside, he heard steps getting closer. perfect it was either a high jump and a prayer, or getting caught as he snuck out of his own castle. Something that didn’t even make sense in the first place. Why was he sneaking out? He was the fucking owner, he was the prince.
In the middle of the night, tho? With his sword with him? He sighed as he let go of the edge of the window, free falling for a few meters before he grabbed onto a lower ledge. Good thing he knew his tower brick by brick. His manicure was ruined now, but he was going to survive.
After a couple of calculated jumps he landed on fresh grass, light as a feather like his mother taught him.
«Shane» he heard and froze, turning around in the seemingly dark garden. Only after he had scanned his surroundings he realised who was talking to him. Ilya.
«Is it raining? Or is this rock just very wet? it’s so dark I can’t even see my hands but i’m sure they feel wet… you’re not coming right?» the man sounded delirious now. Shane looked up, the sky was clear, all the stars visible, no sigh of rain whatsoever. He sighed and after stilling his body completely, trying to hear any sound surrounding him he took off towards the wall. One jump and he was over it. The castle was the last building on this side of the city, so in front of him only a small stream and the first rows of trees of the forest.
“See mum? I wasn’t wrong, it’s not that ridiculous to fear someone getting in easily from this corner” he whispered under his breath. Not a good victory, but a victory nonetheless. Tomorrow he was going to talk to her about tightening the guard over this side of the tower. He had chosen it because it was further from the noises of the castle, and also the one with the best view over the huge strip of land that had been the reason for so many deaths for the past centuries.
There was a huge debate, never resolved, between the two reigns over where the exact border was. Some ancient documents included the old lake in one reign, some other included the clearing. And that had always been enough to cause a mess right in the forest. Every time someone from one or the other city had decided to get over the border or claim more land, they had fought. There were ancient conservative groups that prevented any chance of finding a solution, and the newest generations kept paying the price.
Shane was finally inside the forest, a forest that he basically knew by heart, he could have walked there with his eyes closed, but that was beside the point. No one was supposed to be in the forest at night, only danger awaited between those branches, and it was barely because of the many animals that hid between bushes and tall rocks.
Ilya has said he fell in a ditch. Damn he hoped he had given him more details. No way he was going to answer him, to ask for more information. He tried to make a mental map of the area, was he close by? Was he far away? Was he luring him into a trap on the other side of the border? No way that was way too far for a mental connection to work, between them at least. He had to be around there. A ditch… rocks all around him.
«You know, I should stop talking to you, but it’s weirdly comforting. It’s getting colder now and, not gonna lie I think I’m getting a bit scared...» the voice came and went, but it was crispier than before. The sound was clearer. Shane was close. He stood there, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, Ilya’s voice was low and tired, but the connection between them got stronger. Think Shane, a place nearby with rocks, somewhere where you can fall. He kept his eyes closed and moved his head side to side, he was mapping the forest just like his father taught him. Breathing deeply the crisp air of the night.
His eyes snapped open when he remembered, yes there was an area he gladly avoided, it was close by indeed, straight ahead if he turned to the west. His feet started moving even before he could realise he was doing it. His body felt tingly, almost as if a million ants were crawling under his skin.
He tried his best to make close to no noise as he approached the area where a very tight gorge had opened decades before after an explosion. The people from their city were discouraged to go there because it wasn’t really visible unless you were an expert hiker. Could the stupid rival prince actually be there?
This is a trap, I’m going to die tonight, like an idiot for fuck’s sake. Shane gritted his teeth and tried to keep his composure. He took into consideration a few important factors. First of all this was HIS land, his area, he knew every corner, it was his territory and there was no way soldiers from the other side of the forest had managed to study the land better than him. He had his sword with him, and they were too close to the city walls, he would have needed only one signal to call his guards, they would have found him and for sure he was able to hold on for a while. Sure it was night and he was sleepy, but it was also dark, and darkness gave him an advantage. Most importantly, he was almost forgetting one other factor. Ilya wasn’t like that. As he stood there, on the naked rock, and looked down into the darkness where barely any moonlight was able to shine, he really thought about it.
Ilya wasn’t that kind of warrior. Sure he was a pain in the ass, and he was dangerous, deadly even. He was fast and he always had that smirk on his damn face, showing off his pointy left canine. The rival prince was sometimes ruthless and had no issue taking hostages and pointing his blades to their throats, forcing the soldiers to back off. Forcing Shane to lower his weapon.
He was so many things, a bastard, an hearthless assassin at times, or so the stories about him said, but he wasn’t a coward. Ilya was too proud for that, too proud to simply lure him into a trap with such cheap methods.
There you are!
Shane’s eyes grew larger when he finally spotted a body at the very bottom of that ditch. He had been down there a couple of times, even if his parents definitely advised him not to. He had always thought that knowing his land like the back of his hand was the smartest thing to do. He was crouching now like a predator, his cloak covering his whole body in a very dramatic way. He probably looked so cool from outside. He smiled to himself at the thought and shook his head right after, feeling a bit embarrassed about it. He held his breath for a moment, focusing on his hearing. He couldn’t hear any other presence that wasn’t the animals all around him and the laboured breathing of the man tens of meters away from him.
The prince had to decide, right then, if he wanted to do this stupid, absurd thing, or if he wanted to go back home and forget about it. He stood up, his foot slowly moving side to side, crunching some grit under his boot. Then he finally moved. Not in the direction he hoped, he realised, when his hand held onto the side of the rock wall. He was going down, swiftly jumping from side to side, like a big feline. His cloak fluttering behind him, never getting caught because that was just how good Shane was with measuring exactly his movements. The moment he touched the bottom he froze, there he was. Ilya was sprawled on the floor, resting his back on the wall, one hand on his side, the other quickly grabbing one of his knives and pointing it up at Shane. Shane that had probably looked like a dark figure considering that the only dim light that was able to get down there was on Ilya’s face.
He crouched in front of the man, moving the blade away with the tip of his finger, emerging from the complete darkness and surprising both himself and the other. Himself because the grip on that knife was ridiculously weak, Ilya because he looked like he had just seen a ghost.
“I swear to the gods if this is a trap I’m going to make sure your city…” is destroyed, Shane tried to say, but his sentence was interrupted when the man in front of him smiled tiredly and spoke in the softest tone ever.
“You came. ”
Shane was taken aback, what did he mean, you came. He called and now he was surprised someone came? I mean he isn’t wrong…
A light boop on his right boot brought Shane back to reality. Ilya had tried to make contact, probably trying to understand if the other was real or not. “You came” he whispered again as Shane looked back at his face. His brown curly hair looked damp and was falling on his forehead, his cheek was bruised, his lip split. Ilya was hurt for real. It wasn’t easy to get to his face, he always came out perfect even after a battle, the blood on him was rarely his. Shane furrowed his brows and studied the body in front of him. He was in really bad shape,covered in wounds, possibly bleeding internally too, that was why he felt his hands wet.
“What happened to you?” he asked, his voice coming out serious and darker than usual.
Ilya smirked, or he tried to before coughing and shaking his head.
“I fell like an idiot” he said, his eyes that usually had a weird twinkle in them, a twinkle that Shane absolutely detested, were almost opaque. He was lying, he didn’t just fall.
“What do you want from me?” Shane asked again, that was the question he had asked himself many times as he walked towards the gorge.
“I just hoped you’d come and take me out of here” Ilya said but he sounded delirious, he was closing his eyes and breathing heavily when he added “I didn’t think hatred worked as well” the last word a bit more than a whisper. And then he clearly lost consciousness, right then and there in front of an horrified Shane. He hated the man, yes, but he never thought he wanted to see him in that condition out of the blue, on a random summer night. It wasn't even like he was the one winning fairly in a battle. It didn’t sit well with Shane, not like this.
He sighed and grunted when he realised what he was about to do, but what else was there to do anyway? Staying in that cold humid ditch in the middle of the forest? And for how long? Ilya wanted help to get out, he was going to do that.
He grabbed the man by his waist, and threw him over his shoulder. He was heavy as fuck, a potato sack made of pure muscles. Ilya’s body went completely limp as he had passed out and yet it felt so firm in his arms. What a weird thing to think about when it came to your mortal rival, Shane thought, but either way he started climbing the rock wall. It was infinitely harder this time having a dead weight on him, and yet he managed, feeling a little proud of himself when he finally touched the ground and the grass.
It was a split second decision, he heard the man whine and murmur something, warm puffs of air tickling his lower back when Ilya tried to speak. That position was probably incredibly uncomfortable for someone wounded, but it was the only one Shane could have thought of, to be able to have both his hands free to climb the rock wall.
He put him down, gently, but when he tried to let the man go, Ilya grabbed his arm and tiredly looked up, nodding, thanking him silently. He looked like shit, but at least now he was sitting on the soft fresh grass and not alone in the darkness.
Shane wanted to walk away, he was about to, when his body started to tingle again. He took a deep breath and shook his head. He couldn’t just leave him to be mauled by wolves, so close to the city too. What if someone had found him tomorrow morning? It would have started a war instantly.
“Stupid fucker” he whispered between his teeth, before grabbing Ilya’s arm and pulling him to rest on his back this time. He adjusted the position and got up, those muscular legs on each side of his waist, firmly held by his hands, and the hot breath of his rival on his neck. The prince didn’t say a word as he was once again in and out of conscience, but when he was awake enough he made sure to squeeze Shane’s shoulders slightly.
-
The vines contracted and slithered away as a door was revealed. Shane quickly opened it and closed it behind his back. He kicked off his boots and walked further into a dark room. When his feet touched the pillows he was expecting to find, he turned around and slowly lowered his body almost to a sitting position. He felt Ilya’s body slide off his shoulders and heard him sigh when he touched the pillows on the floor.
Shane turned around, happy he could finally stop the contact between their two bodies, and quickly got up. He saw the man adjust his position on the pillows and then walked to the side of the room where he switched on a lamp. Warm light invaded the small living room of the cottage, his secret cottage in the forest. He shook his head, why did he bring him there? It was a secret location, his personal space in the forest, engulfed by nature thanks to his friend who had developed a technique to manipulate plants over the past years.
His shoulders fell a bit when he realised he was about to pour a glass of water for his enemy. He kept scolding himself in his head, hearing his mother’s voice over and over again. Almost muttering the words she would have said. Are you crazy Shane, what are you doing? This is the right time to finally get rid of him. Let his father and his city know that you don’t mess with our people.
“Here, have some water” he said, instead, stretching his arm in front of him, almost fast enough to splash water on the other man’s lap. Ilya looked up confused then he slowly reached for the glass.
“Thank you...” he whispered but it sounded more like a question. His hand was too shaky to be able to even hold the glass properly. So much so that Shane had to do something he never would have imagined. He held the glass for him and got it closer to Ilya's lips. He drank, he probably was dehydrated, he had been there for a while, and who knew how long he had been out. Ilya used his sleeve to dry his mouth from some droplets of water that had escaped his lips. “Thank you,” he whispered again, this time more convinced.
They stared at each other for a few seconds, none of them daring to speak, when finally one of them did “why did you come?” he asked again.
“You called me” Shane answered without even thinking, as he placed the glass on the window sill above them; cursing himself immediately when Ilya’s lips curled up in a tired smile. He saw him nod and shoot him a look that clearly said good boy. He looked exhausted and weak, and yet he still had enough energy to be cocky.
“I really didn’t know if it was going to work. Supposedly it only works with strong bonds, big feelings” he gestured to his own chest puffing it up mockingly “I guess we hate each other enough after all”
“Why me?” Shane asked looking down, his brows meeting in a frown. That was the question he kept asking himself “why didn’t you ask someone else for help? Like your family…the bond should…” he asked further. It made no sense that someone like him called his rival for help.
Ilya laughed, well he tried to but as he did he held his side where he was wounded “Who? My brother who doesn’t care about me? Or my father who ignores me most of the time?” he sounded hurt, but this time it wasn’t his body. Shane’s brows furrowed more. It made no sense. “Don’t look at me like that, do you really think they would even get my message? I only have one person that loves me and I would have never put her in such a position… plus Svetlana doesn’t have enough power to form a mind connection” the prince explained further.
He only had one person that loved him…and apparently one that he knew hated him enough to hear his cry for help. Shane found himself feeling sorry for the man in front of him, and he hated it. But judging from Ilya’s face, the other hated it just as much. He surely didn’t like to be pitied. What to respond to something like that? Nothing he could have said made any sense.
Some seconds passed then Ilya looked around, “where is this? Where did you bring me?”
“Just some place I know,” Shane replied casually, trying to not make a big deal out of it. But it kinda was. His secret hideout, his space when he wanted to get away from his responsibilities. Now tainted by this man’s smell.
“Liar” that thick accent resounded in his ears. Ilya looked down and smiled before a fit of coughing shook his body violently. He covered his mouth with his arm, but Shane couldn’t help but notice there was blood on his sleeve. The damage was way worse than it had seemed. Ilya was… dying? In front of him? In his cottage? Damn it.
“Your injuries…” Shane said but he immediately saw the other shake his head. He didn’t want to hear it, maybe.
“I guess after all I knew it was coming, sooner or later” the man said, his curls falling down as he lowered his head, inspecting the blood on his clothes. How did he get so badly injured just by falling down into the ditch? It was impossible. This man was a formidable warrior, fast on his feet, even if he hadn’t expected a hole on the ground he would have surely caught himself in time.
Then something unexpected happened, he saw him reaching into his shirt, under his leather top, he slowly pulled out a thin chain, then tugged on it, breaking the clasp. He held his fist in front of his face, grimacing and huffing before pushing it forwards slightly and opening it to reveal what was on his palm. His crest ring. His family heirloom. Something that Shane had seen before in battle, something that everyone in his army aspired to finally hold in their hands. It wasn’t just a ring, it was a symbol. Everyone knew that killing a soldier from the opposite side came with stripping them of their most precious belongings. It was a trophy, it had a meaning and Ilya was giving it to him.
“What?” he asked, baffled.
“Take it, it’s yours…tell people you were the one,” Ilya said moving towards him, pushing the ring to his chest. I don’t want it. Shane looked at him, a mix of outrage and confusion, but the man only nodded. It was something he had protected with his life, something he would have rather swallowed during a battle before having some enemy take it. I don’t want it. “I rather you have it than for it to be lost somewhere when you’ll get rid of my body.”
Shane’s head started spinning. Getting rid of his body. He didn’t think ahead enough. What was he going to do he couldn’t leave him there, he couldn’t simply bury him either. He felt a weird panic growing from his belly and creeping up, almost as if his blood was being replaced by icy water. He didn’t have much time to panic further because Ilya slumped forward and without even thinking Shane’s chest was there to catch him. He sat there awkwardly on the pillows, a shivering body in his arms. Well arms was an exaggeration, Shane was rigid as a log, his hand floating mid air didn’t dare to touch the other’s back. He wanted to push him away when he felt the ring being pressed on his chest, the trembling hand of the rival prince flat on his left pectoral.
“Just take it, for fuck’s sake, don’t act all superior for once” he was begging at this point, almost crying. “It was my mother’s, I need you to have it. You're the only worthy opponent, the only one I can accept having this” it was barely a whisper but the pain in that confession made Shane’s body relax. He reached up and gently tapped the man’s hand to release the ring. He held it for a second, staring at it, it was cold. Icy cold despite it being pressed on his chest a moment before. It was a beautiful design, a swan holding a light blue crystal in its beak. Definitely a small size indeed. His mother’s…
“Ok. Ok,” he whispered, as long as you stop acting so miserable. Ilya chuckled, more at himself and the situation than at Shane’s awkwardness. He was ready to finally push him away when he felt a hand on the small of his back, it was first a weak touch then it became a stronger grip when the body in his arms started to shake; pain seemed to be getting unbearable, and yet Ilya was hiding it all.
“You’re warm, I never thought you were this warm” he started, “is it me or the room is super cold?” it was him, it was his fire slowly being engulfed by darkness.
Shane took pity on the man and this time he reached up and pressed his hand on his back, earning a sigh from the other “it’s you,” he whispered, finding it very hard to say those words. Touching Ilya was weird, dangerous almost. The body in his arms was so badly damaged that he could almost feel his energy slipping away. His fingertips started to tingle, they felt almost warmer than usual. No way. He couldn’t do that.
“You also smell way sweeter than I imagined,” he was definitely delirious now. What the fuck did he even mean by that. Shane didn’t smell sweet, he smelled masculine…he smelled like…peaches, ok fine, he smelled like fruits, his soap was decorated with dessicated fruits and made with some milk in it to keep his skin smooth and fresh.
Ilya didn’t smell sweet, he smelled like blood. Like death.
His hands kept tingling, so much so he had to clench a fist with his left one. The man in front of him shifted slightly and looked up at him. Straight into his eyes. Oh no, his pupils were dilated, two bright rings surrounding them, he had small tears forming at the corners. Ilya had such beautiful eyes, he always had, they infuriated Shane most of the time but now he was drowning in them. Why was he staring at him like that? He was almost studying his face, his dark brown lashes fluttering slightly as he went from his eyes to his cheeks, to his lips, frowning a bit in the process. Almost as if he had never seen him before. Well not up close like that.
“You have freckles… so many,” Ilya reached up and brushed his fingers on Shane’s cheeks, almost shocking him to death. The gesture was shocking enough but his fingers were icy. The same fingers gently went from his cheek to his lips “I bet your lips are super soft too. So annoyingly perfect,” it was barely audible, but enough to be heard.
Shane frowned, he was feeling panicky again, his chest was getting heavier the more he stared into those light blue eyes that now looked more like a dark lake. He didn’t even realize his own eyes had filled with tears too, only when he blinked and felt a single tear roll down his cheek, he almost gasped in surprise.
His finger tips were now pressed on Ilya’s back, he could feel them tingle intensely, he couldn’t help it, both his hands were now on the other’s body, the man was dying in his arms, telling him how perfect he looked, crying as he died far from his friends and family.
Again that adjective. This time it sounded less like a mocking and more like a confession. Perfect. Everyone always made fun of him for trying too hard, he wasn't perfect nor he wanted to be.
Ilya faint smile almost didn’t make it this time, he was getting weaker and weaker, yet he stubbornly kept staring straight into Shane’s eyes. Was that really how he wanted to spend the last seconds of his exciting life?
Shane’s hands were almost shaking now, he could feel it in his core, he was trying so hard, so fucking hard to battle with his own nature. He knew it was too risky, they were past the no return point. It would have taken too much energy, maybe he didn't even have enough.
But as he stared down into those sad eyes he realised he couldn’t fight his nature.
“Ah fuck it!” he grunted as he held Ilya closer, his whole body becoming so incredibly hot he felt like he was on fire. His hands pressed on the man’s back as he squeezed him in a hug that could have been deadly to someone with a smaller figure. Ilya started to shake and whined, at first it was a low growl but it soon became a pained cry that filled Shane’s ears. They were already ringing anyway, his head was spinning, his chest almost exploding as he nearly let out a cry of his own.
Every cell of his body was spinning, or at least that was what it felt like. Then popping like little balloons. They were briefly engulfed by a bright light emanating from Shane's hands and chest and then everything stopped. The cries of pain, the light emitting from their bodies. Even the lamp on the wall had gone out with the blast of energy that had shook the cottage like a wave.
Shane couldn’t see, he could barely breathe, his face was wet with tears, his hands were burning from the inside, his whole body was burning from the inside. The body in his arms went limp and the weight had become too much for him to handle. He let Ilya go, and then slumped right on top of him on the pillows.
Everything was blurry, his eyes unable to focus. His heart was beating so fast he thought it was going to stop, he felt like vomiting, he felt like he was about to die.
Then he heard it. A soft moan, the beating of the other’s heart echoing in his ears. He is alive.
He is alive.