Reverie [The Distortionist x reader]

Chapter 24

(Art by madness-within-the-mirror on Tumblr)

Ignorant atrocities and colorless apologies

This isn't what it looks to be

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After a second of you two staring at each other, Esther leaning curiously to peer at Henry from across the porch, a piece of paper in his grip comes to your attention. He's like a father, brooding in anger about his child's inadequate grades, the report card getting crumpled in his fist.

"Well, fancy seeing you here, Henry." Your words are tinged with sarcasm. "Heard you were out with my sister."

"Yep," he snappily affirms. "And she's been worried sick about Esther. Why the hell would you take her suddenly when you haven't been home for days? We feared for the worst..."

"I wanted to get away from you two before you came back," you say. "It's a wonder you're going out with [S/N] even though you don't want to see me."

"Don't be self-centered. I'm not here for you, I'm here to console [S/N] because of your illness."

"What illness?" Esther quietly wonders.

"Way to go, Henry. Right in front of Esther."

He sighs, puffing a cloud under the shine of the porch light and the bitter cold of the evening. It floats up and disappears just before it covers Henry's flaming eyes, almost as if his gaze had burned it away. It's been a while since you've seen him so passionate. He says "Have her go in to meet her mother. I want to talk to you."

You nod, lowering Esther. "Go into the house, dearest. Your Mommy's looking for you."

"Okay!" She skips to the porch, her figure being enveloped with warm light, a beacon in a cold night. She only turned around once to call to you with shining eyes. "Auntie, you're not sick, right?"

"I'm not sick," you confirm confidently, half to her, half to Henry. Thankfully, she doesn't question it. She reaches up and turns the doorknob to then disappear through the doorway.

As you step closer to Henry, he whispers. "But you are sick, [Y/N]." He's more solemn than anything. "And I have solid proof."

Almost like if time were slowed into a stream of molasses from your breakfast, he slowly unfurls his grip around the page, turning it around for you to see the slightly smudged typing on it.

The writing began with:

Christopher

The man that murdered my friend who then also became my friend.

Your blood freezes in your veins and your breath is as still as this breezeless, bitter evening. The first thing your mind goes to is - how can you convince him that you didn't write this? Perhaps by saying someone else planted it there. But no, it talked about Stia, whose relationship to the criminal wasn't public knowledge. Shit... What other chance do you have?

"Don't even try, [Y/N]," he snaps. "I didn't even tell this to [S/N], please make that worth it. You know I'll know if you lie. Just... tell the truth."

"..." If that's the only choice you have, you won't talk at all.

"I'll take your silence as an admission of guilt."

"Just!" you yap. "Just- It's complicated, alright?"

"What. The. Hell, [Y/N]," he starts off quietly, building volume and that fire in his eyes gradually. "Why the fuck would you write this? The only reason I can find as to why you'd betray me like this would be your illness, but you don't even own up to that! Just say you're sick and I might be able to forgive you a while from now."