ᴅᴇᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ - ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ ᴠ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ [ONGOING!]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 14| ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇꜱ; ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

Y/N was dumbfounded. This was a truth that they couldn't accept-- one that was impossible to accept. To believe that B/N had survived the fall was wishful thinking in of itself-- but to think that Orpheus was the one who had heroically swooped in to save his life? It was just impossible, plain and simple. 

They would have remembered the face of the man who had saved their brother's life-- Though, to be fair, there was a certain quality about this supposed "past" version of Orpheus that was distinctly different than the one they had come to know.
This man before them, shaking their brother's hand and smiling sheepishly, looked nothing like the grave and solemn Orpheus that had trapped them in this suppressed memory.
He didn't talk like him either-- he almost sounded upbeat whenever he opened his mouth. It was quite jarring.

"My God, I can't believe I got saved by the Orpheus!" B/N marvelled. His eyes were wide as saucers, and he didn't look unlike a starry-eyed child meeting their lifelong hero. "It is such an honour, sir-- I absolutely adore your works! I'm so sorry if I inconvenienced you by almost plummeting to my death!"

Orpheus chuckled bashfully, rubbing a hand behind his neck. "Please, think nothing of it-- I'm just glad that the both of you are okay. Especially after that argument of yours..." He trailed off, B/N paling slightly.

"You-- you heard all of that?" He asked, eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights when Orpheus nodded in affirmation. The novelist turned to face the younger Y/N, who was looking down at their feet in shame.

"I'm really sorry that your paranormal investigating hasn't borne you any fruit yet... believe me, I understand what it's like to not get the results you wanted immediately."

Y/N knew exactly what their younger self was thinking by the way their face scrunched up at the remark. Some successful, entitled novelist telling them that he knew how they felt was pretty offputting-- even pretentious.

"I must admit though, I was a bit intrigued by your talk of ghosts," He continued catching Y/N's attention. "Is ghost-hunting an occupation of sorts for you?"

"Oh... no, it's not. I'm just your average O/P," Y/N mumbled. "My paranormal studies are just something I do on the side. An innocent hobby."

B/N furrowed his eyebrows as if wanting to retort, though he didn't seem as if he wanted to freak out on his sibling in front of his favourite author of all time. Y/N, however, did not seem to share that same sense of urgency.

"What exactly are you doing here, if I might ask?" The younger Y/N asked, voice edged with suspicion. "Surely a writer of your status and stature would be somewhere more refined than an old, abandoned manor like this." 

B/N's eyes widened in alarm, internally screaming at his sibling's baseless suspicion and blatant rudeness. This man had saved his life-- why were they speaking so harshly to him?

Despite B/N's apparent distraught, Orpheus laughed the presumptuous remark off. He didn't seem to take it personally, but if he did, he did a masterful job of concealing it. 

"Well... I'll be honest with you two, I'm actually here to do some... ah, shall we say, research." He chuckled, turning away from the two and moving to pick up the discarded "Five Identities" book from the floor. Y/N had no clue how, but even after everything that had just occurred, it was still unnervingly clean. 

"I've always been fascinated by old, abandoned manors like this," He admitted, wiping a small layer of dust off of the book's spine. "I've actually visited this specific manor quite a few times-- hence the book. I figured it might be amusing to leave a token of my work amidst these other literary masterpieces. That doesn't sound too strange, does it?"