The End of Crowen : A Novellete Told Through Dark Academia Playlists

but do they really listen?

He had waited all week for a day like this. Six other nightfalls and sunrises, patiently waiting for a storm to fill one of his jars with rainwater. Basil skipped out of his small cottage, making his way to the fields by the castle. He realized he was making a fool of himself in front of the other villagers and abruptly took the skip out of his step.

Then the thoughts trickled and poured into his head: What are they all thinking? Can they read my thoughts? What if I tripped? No, I won't trip, I'll take very good care not to trip. Do not trip Basil, do not trip. Are they looking at me? They are, they all are, oh gosh-

"Basil! How are you my friend? What are you doing out in the pouring rain and thunder? Don't you know you'll catch a cold? Oh, of course you do, that was a silly question." A person laughed through the window of a workshop. Who were they again? Basil shook his body to get out of his head. They were Tillie, the blacksmith's kid. One of his oldest acquaintances; They were both twenty-two. He hadn't noticed the fact that he was drenched in water, but now that they had brought attention to it, that was all he could think about.

"Oh, hey Tillie. I'm just on my way to collect some storm water. I'm planning on charging it with the full moon's energy tonight. It's good for cleaning your insides!"

"I figured it was something along the lines of that. You'll do anything for your work, huh? You're too stubborn so there's no use in trying to convince you not to go. Just make sure when you get home to change out of that filthy wet white shirt and the rest of your clothes too. I worry about you sometimes." She sighed and went back to help her father.

Basil continued onto his work too, pacing along the path to the field. The field was an open area of grass that no one in the town had claimed yet. It was a great picnic and thinking spot, but most importantly, he could watch the storm with nothing blocking the sky.

"I whispered your name to the wind, and there you were, like she had somehow pushed you to me." Francis squeaked. Basil screeched and went rigid.

"Bloody hEll! You really scared me! What are you doing here?! "

"I apologize Basil. You caught my eye while I was wondering about the castle. You were in the window and then, I don't know, I just started running and I couldn't stop myself and now I'm here." He was desperately trying to catch his breath. You could tell he hadn't run in a while.

"Oh, I see. Well I was just going to the field to collect some rainwater and watch the storm. Would you like to come with me?"

"C-Come with you? Um, yes sure why not? I do. But aren't we both going to catch a cold if we stay out here?"

"That seems to be the consensus for everyone else too...I guess I'll catch you later then. You don't have to come with me if you're truly worried. So long, Francis!" Basil waved.

"Wait! No! Don't leave! Come with me, to the castle, we have a big window in the library that overlooks the land outside of the town walls. It's a spectacular view, trust me, and doesn't involve you getting hurt. I wouldn't want you getting struck by this lighting either. We can leave your jar with one of my servants and they'll catch the water for you!" There was something he was holding inside of himself, something being pushed down to the very depths of his soul. That sparked Basil's interest.

"Alright. I guess I have always wanted a tour of the castle. After we watch the storm though, I do not want to miss it," Basil shrugged.

"Don't storms last all day?" Francis questioned, slightly whining, as Basil started running to the castle.

"Well normally...yes, the rain lasts most of the day and so do the clouds and such. But not the thunder and lightning. I'd guess we have at least thirty more minutes to an hour of it left. That's why we have to hurry!"

"Oh my, we'll look like idiots running around the town." Francis laughed, jokingly.

Basil cut short, slowing his run to a walk. Idiots?

"We should probably just slow down. It's safer."

"I didn't exactly think of you as the type to care about what others thought of you. It doesn't matter what they think. I was only fooling around."

"I'm sorry, your majesty. I haven't learned how to control that part of myself yet." Basil fidgeted.

"Ah, it's okay. There's no need to apologize."

"A-Alright."

"Come on then, let's go." Francis grabbed Basil's hand and pulled him through the rain, running as fast as he could.

"What are you doing?!" Basil pulled back slightly, terrified, but he wasn't strong enough to loosen the king's grip.

Basil let himself get over the initial anxiety, and for the first time that Francis saw, there was a smile there that wasn't flustered, covered, or intrigued. It was pure joy.

The library walls were a sweet, syrupy brown. Most of them were covered by dark mahogany bookshelves, but at the north side a massive window left only a quarter of it to show. The room wasn't large, but it was a considerable size. Books were in the thousands, and some of them were barely hanging on to their spines.

"My family wasn't collectors or anything, so a lot of these works are from past generations." Francis whispered.

"Why are you whispering?"

"Have you not been inside of a library before? It's respectful." Francis dragged a plushy, velvet bench to the window and sat down. He motioned Basil over. Basil plopped next to the king.

The view was such a masterpiece that he almost jumped in fear. He had never been outside the castle walls, except a few times as a small child which he couldn't remember. There was so much. Mountains bigger than the castle! Hills as soft as silk! The clouds were voluminous and slightly blood-flecked. To the east, there was a body of water so great, it must have been the ocean. A crousicating flash of light sprang from the fog and stabbed the ground with a strange smirk. Seconds later, a roar came from the heavens so loud it was heard for miles. Francis flinched and grasped onto Basil. The apothecary recoiled for a moment, a little startled, then eased, his cheeks a vermilion red.

"Do...you think the wind really listens? Or even the universe?" Basil questioned, his voice like a shadow.

"I think, maybe," Francis turned his head to face Basil's. "I'm not sure." His arm was still nuzzled into theirs. Something was there, a dark, unbearable tension. It was the finest, most private thing. It was envious, greener than the grass that laid before them outside.

Then it was golden, golden, golden. Both lips so pleasantly intoxicating they were impossible to resist. A magnet was what pulled them together, like a bird's instinct to migrate. Would they get closer? They both wanted to. Each boy was so demonically passionate, it was malicious.

"Court me," Francis whispered demandingly.

"Oh, usually people ask." Basil laughed, cupping the king's face in his hands.

"Well, I'm the king, I don't think the rules apply to me. Francis Beverly Aelius the fourteenth, kind sir. I'm the number one here in town. You've seen me before around the castle, in your own words."

"I think I could fall in love with you."

"Of course you could." Francis murmured under his breath, kissing Basil once again.