Thorough Breds 1: My Prince(18+)

11- His sickness

Tharn was furious as he went back and put on his clothes. There were two reasons for his fury.

 
1. Somebody lied about Type leaving.

2. Type ran from him.

The latter bothering him much more than the first. Type ran- from him. Well if he thought he could get away from him,  when Tharn found him

after so long, he had another thing coming.

He'd deal with what happened twelve years ago later, right now he was going to hunt Type down and see how much his friend had changed.

He swallowed ground with large strides, making his way inside to the man corridor. What he saw there made him growl.

Type's mother- who he could recognize immediately, the woman really hadn't changed much except for the stress lines on her face.

But that wasn't what ticked him off, no, it was the luggage he could see men carry out of the door.

They thought they could leave? Just when he'd come back? Just when he found the last twelve years were all a lie?

Like hell.

"His highness, the crown prince!!!"

As soon as the guard at the door announced his arrival, Type's mother turned to him with horror in her eyes.

"Y-your grace" She curtsied quickly and before he could say a word,  turned around and walked to the door. Tharn panicked for a minute as he saw her take a step out of the door- taking his one chance of seeing Type with her.

"Auntie, where are you going to? Aren't you happy to see me?"

He had always called her Auntie even when he called all the other maids by their names. She wasn't simply a maid, she was Type's mother.

She turned around and he could see her lips pressed into a thin line. She wasn't really happy to see him, he could tell, yet he didn't find himself caring.

His mind registered only one thing, as long as she was here- in front of him, Type couldn't leave either.

"There are a few questions I have. I would like for you to answer them"

He didn't wait for her to reply.

"How long have you been in this palace?" She looked up at him surprised, not expecting his question. He waited for her reply. Although he already knew the answer.

"Twelve years,  my prince "

He nodded, having his thoughts confirmed until he moved to his next question.

"Where is he?"

She looked up at him in panic, eyes darting around to search for a way out.

He wouldn't give her one.

Finding Type wasn't up for debate.

"I won't ask again. Where is he?"

And by the gloominess in her eyes, he knew he had won.

*****

He found Type on the rooftop of the left wing. One look at him and he found his breath hitching and sweat collecting in his palms.

He had found him, and now he didn't know what to say. Twelve years felt like a dream, as he felt like he had never left. He was in his childhood, with his friend, with his Type.

The pain of separation lifted as if it never was, and he was left with a feeling that was all clouds.

His eyes roamed all over Type's back. Taking in the curve of his shoulders, the arch of his neck.

Bathing in  the feeling of his presence.

The wind was blowing inwards and not outwards, or else Type would have smelled him. He was glad, he  wanted to stay and look at him forever.

"Tyyype" ( Did you all just read this in Tharn's voice or what?)

Type didn't turn, but Tharn could feel him stiffen. He couldn't help it, couldn't stop himself from closing the distance between them, until a width of hair separated them.

"Type!" How many times had he thought of this moment. How many times had he dreamt of coming home to Type? How many times had he cried silent tears by missing him?

Still- Type didn't turn. It was odd, but Tharn pushed the feeling aside. He grabbed onto his arm to turn his face towards himself.

Terror.

That was the first thing that pierced through his heart. An arrow that embedded itself deep within his body.

Type looked terrible. He had changed over the years obviously, but what stopped his heart for a moment was the sickly pale color of his face.

His cheeks were hollowed and he had black bags under his eyes. Webs of veins ran under his skin, and he looked like he had risen from the grave. His eyes were watery as if with fever.

Tharn grabbed his waist in shock, and what he felt left him scared. Type's waist was so thin he could feel his ribs if he slid his hands upwards.

Heart beating out of his body, he ripped off his shirt.

Tharn's eyes ran over him in panic. His sunken belly, prominent ribs. By gods, it looked as if he had no flesh on his body.

"Type-" he had to stop with how much his voice was shaking and he gulped twice just to get rid of the saliva that had somehow pooled in his mouth.

"Type, a-are you sick?" What illness could affect a shifter so bad. They got sick,  yes, but their immune systems got rid of it within a day.

Type shook his head.

"What-What happened?" His voice was nothing more than a whisper. Pain and panic rushing through his veins.

Type only smiled, a sad smile. A smile full of pain, full of disappointment

He pressed his head in Tharn's chest, and whispered lovingly in his ear.

"You did Tharn. You did"

Author's note:

Vote
Comment
We need all those back

Love,
Ana💕