You Are My Escape (G/T) (Completed)

15

After a couple days had passed, Ezriel's magic slowly came back. He spent a few sessions in the crystal chamber with Ventus to practice getting it back under control, and before long he was able to return to classes as normal with the rest of his peers. He wasn't quite sure what his mentor told everyone when the two of them would disappear together after hours, but whatever it was nobody asked any questions. 

The crack in his wing was also making a decent recovery- the proper treatment he'd received for it was working well, letting it heal on its own. Each day that passed the damage grew incrementally smaller, and he was able to do little bursts of flight here and there.

Needless to say everything was beginning to return to normal, and it was borderline painful for the prince.

Nobody knew what had him so preoccupied all the time, but it was hard to find him not caught in a stupor. He often zoned out during his lessons, always thinking about things that every other fairy around him didn't know about, and no one could get him to elaborate. For once, it seemed difficult for his people to get any sort of coherent conversation out of him.

Days blurred into a week, but despite the time that passed he could still picture himself back on Matt's table like it had only just happened. Keeping everything in was almost too much for him to handle, but who could he tell?

He'd barely even spoken to Galen when he started working with him in the library, sorting the archives. It was the least he'd ever said in his company, and it certainly didn't go unnoticed, but the man didn't inquire about Ezriel's distant nature. He wasn't usually one to pry; if the prince wanted to confide in him about something then he'd approach him on his own terms. He simply kept a watchful eye on him as he worked on the menial tasks, worrying from afar.

Another day passed and Ezriel was back in the archives again after his classes, sorting the files absent-mindedly and barely paying attention to where he was putting things. The work he was given was easier than expected, but he still had to correct more than a couple mistakes in the last few minutes alone, and it was only getting worse as the fog in his brain took over and his limbs went into complete autopilot mode.

Eventually he stopped moving entirely, and Galen sauntered over to his corner after about ten minutes of watching him stare into thin air. The blonde quickly perked up as he grew closer, trying to pick up the slack.

"I see that about five of these have made it into their proper homes." Galen teased, but Ezriel knew what it really meant. What's going on?

"Apologies," He sighed, giving up his busy charade, "I don't mean to make so many mistakes, I've just been so... out of it lately."

"Really? I couldn't tell. What's been on your mind?" The librarian held a smirk as he casually picked up a few unsorted scrolls and slid them to where they belonged.

Ezriel gave the other a forlorn stare. He was such an easy person to talk to, someone he had gone to with his personal problems many times before; Galen was one of the few people here that he trusted, and with how badly he wanted to spill things he couldn't help but finally break.

"I suppose I'm just.. worried."

Galen only looked at him expectantly.

"I met somebody, when I snuck out last time.." The prince elaborated carefully, but his hesitance melted when he realized that there was nobody else around.

"Did you now?"

Ezriel nodded, staring up at the ornate ceiling from his chair and letting out a long dreamy sigh.

"He was a musician, who played me songs I'll never forget on an instrument I'd never seen before. He was sweet and gentle, and it's all stuck in my head like sap to a tree-- the thoughts have become painfully obsessive and I cannot escape them."