How Did We Get Into This Mess - KOTLC Oneshots

Look At You | Chapter Three | So I Follow

( In which both the writer and readers have a love - hate relationship with denial. )

"How are we to govern what should be a basic elvin right," Dex bargained passionately. "These traditions are twisting our economy, and are in a dire need of revision. We must bring this issue to the Council's attention!"

No onlooker would notice, but Fitz's jaw dropped just slightly in awe. How come he had never seen this side of Dex before? Was he really ignorant enough to pass this boy off as normal?

"Time," Wylie called, as the balefire pendant extinguished. The regent surveyed the careful notes he had taken, smoothing his tight-cropped brown hair. Fitz was astonished by the clear runes making their way across the scroll. It had taken him years of relentless practice as not to blot the swirls.

Dex was beaming with elation, his eyes squinting as they did when he was happy. His dimples refused to fade. With all the pressure put on him as the oldest in his family, which was already large by elvin standards, he hardly got to enjoy himself. It was almost always making inventions for the Black Swan, helping the triplets get out of the messes they created, or helping his Dad with the shop.

Fitz nodded to Dex respectfully, hands clasped. The rich caramel of his cheeks had faded the slightest bit, paling at the thought of losing in front of a Councillor. He had never been put in such a position before. Disappointing his family was one of his worst fears. Right up there along with his close ones dying, and the Neverseen winning. Which kind of went hand in hand.

"Fitz, you made an appeal to ignorance. Your second point could be used for either side," Wylie stated. This was an amateur mistake. This was the first time the Vacker had used this appeal, and he felt an onslaught of shame. The debate was supposed to build back up the Vacker Legacy, not bring it further down.

"Dex, you made an appeal to hypocrisy. It won't help you in the long run." Dex's smile didn't falter at the constructive criticism. In fact, he was proud of himself. For a runner-up, he was doing surprisingly well.

Wylie packed his satchel, gathering the organized items from the table. Dex's smile officially fell. He wasn't anywhere close to ready. Not for the Vacker golden boy.

"You're leaving?"

Fitz echoed the same sentiments, capping the ink pot politely. An internal war waged ferociously, a battle between poise and desperation.

"I have to prepare," Wylie stated firmly. He took off into dusty pink light, leaving no room for protest. It left the small dilemma of the other two abandoned in a pregnant silence, lost for words.

Fitz decided to take charge. Leading a baffled Dex to the Everglen grounds, he avoided low hanging branches expertly for such a tall person. A gazebo resided under a willow tree, a small white structure with fencing and wooden floors. At a second glance, the technopath knew better.

The floorboards retracted into each other, folding out into floating stairs powered by reverse magnetism. The lighting was more old fashioned, a small blaze igniting torches, bouncing from tip to tip as it illuminated a ballroom.

"Don't you have enough of these," Dex commented tiredly, referencing the expansive area Alvar used for his Winnowing gala.

"I thought you'd want to learn in private," Fitz said lightly, pulling Dex behind him. The suspicious stare was well received by the Vacker, a look he had grown accustomed to over the last few months.

"Learn what," Dex asked, a cute baffled look on his freckled face. The little crease between his eyebrows was adorable, and his eyebrows were squinched together, the centermost sides turned upward in thought. It was the boy's thinking face, though he had yet to realize.

Fitz settled the pair in the rectangle of dappled sunlight, his muscles relaxing under the buttery warmth.

"To dance."

Fitz swept Dex close to him with a hand on the Dizznee's back, the Technopath's spine arching in anticipation. For what, he didn't know. Actually, he did. Denial was just a daily step in the routine. However repetitive.

Placing Dex's left hand on his broad shoulder, Fitz smiled down at Dex's awed look of wonderment. Carefully lacing his fingers with Dex's, Fitz paused, giving the strawberry blonde time to say no.

"And now we rise."

Dex blushed, dimples carving into his cheeks as he gazed down at the floor, nestling his head in the crook of Fitz's neck as they levitated upward. An aroma of sawdust, mint, and cinnamon overcame Dex's senses. It was an unlikely combination, a bit controversial, yet it worked. Too well.

Forward, right, back, left, forward. The lead part of the dance had been taught to Fitz by Della, who snapped her fingers on the one, two, three beat. Alden watched, a proud satisfaction in his teal eyes. Those days were gone now, the pangs of regret faded by the weight of Dex's body.

Fitz waited for a long moment, reveling in comfortable silence.

"You really aren't supposed to lean on me, you know," Fitz whispered.

Well, no. Dex had not known. He moved to support himself, stopped by the dip of Fitz's head. A surprised o formed on his lips. Okay then. He didn't have any complaints.

"You didn't let me finish," the Vacker murmured. "I like it."

Fitz buried his face in Dex's fluffy hair, breathing in coppery apple cider, hints of lavender letting the young man's watery eyes spill over. He drew Dex's waist even closer, dropping closed position to wrap both arms around the Technopath.

It meant so much to both of them, far more than the other would ever know.

They dangled in midair, each anchoring the other. Though it wasn't supposed to end, it did. As all beautiful things do, retaining their purity. The perfect word for them. Pure. Bleeding, broken, still pure.

Later, while mixing a potion to dye Iggy, Dex found himself thinking about the time under the gazebo. He wondered if he was special, or if Fitz took everyone down to the ballroom alone. Why did he even care? Surely Wonderboy couldn't be endearing himself to Dex?

The tender, fond demeanor jerked to a wince as Dex saw the teal Elixir he was pouring. Fitz couldn't be occupying that much of the Dizznee's subconscious, he negated.

He definitely had more important things to think about. Like the silk to curls ratio for Iggy's fur. It was a pressing issue!

Even so, Dex found himself still going over every detail as he curled up on Aunt Eda's couch. Sleep slowly took him hostage, light red eyelashes fluttering down. Down, down, down.

( Y'all may or may not get a hint when I finish the next chapter. For the song title, that is. Or perhaps a hint about the artist responsible for it. So what'll it be? A song title hint, or an indirect one? Y'all will probably be more knowledgeable when it comes to the artist though if you listen to indie music. Heh, did you see what I did there? Bonus hint. )