How Did We Get Into This Mess - KOTLC Oneshots

Picture Myself | Quinalden Songfic

( inspired by Picture Myself by Stephanie Poetri )

So . . . Atlantis, huh? Alden transmits, staring at the ceiling of his room.

Yup. My parents would never pass down their house like yours.

The Vacker could almost see Quinlin's face. He was definitely raising his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth lifting enticingly. His parents were the first nobles of the Sonden line. They ran a restaurant in Atlantis anyway, so Quinlin wasn't moving far.

Why not the Foxfire dorms?

I could ask you the same thing.

That's different.

Alden's parents had finished construction on their new estate the year before, gifting him Everglen as a coming of age present. He could still go to the dorms. It would just be like giving his entire family the middle finger, so to speak.

So, . . . cognates, huh?

Are you mocking me?

Maybe we're already so in sync that our speech patterns are interchangeable.

How ominous.

He could feel Quinlin laughing, throwing his head back. His dreads would hit his shoulders, but his eyes were closed, crinkling in happiness at the edges. It was an honest laugh.

Alden smiled, glancing down at the rings on his thumbs as a reminder they were still there. He traced them with his fingertips, absentmindedly rubbing the ruminel. The metal was familiarly warm. Quinlin had the matching set, of course.

All jokes aside, are you ok? It doesn't sound like you've gotten much sleep. You shouldn't wear out your pretty teal eyes by reading this late.

The Vacker flushed.

If you must know, I just finished my book anyway.

What was it this time?

. . . A History Of Cognatedom

Is that right? Not Tried and True Trust Exercises, or Reading The Emotional Center, No Empathy Required?

Hey, those helped, didn't they?

You may have a point.

Thanks. I know it was hard for you to admit that.

Alden, I'm not you.

Savage! Why so serious all of a sudden?

I guess the pressure is getting to me.

All eyes were on them as the youngest cognates and strongest Telepaths at Foxfire. There were only five out of the thousands of students. It was an exceedingly rare ability, which was why there were so many on the council.

Councillors Kenric and Emery were both Telepaths. Two out of the twelve was insane, considering the prestige and necessary accomplishments to even become a candidate. Then taking into account the hundreds of different abilities, it seemed even more special.

You get used to it.

Not exactly what I want or need to hear . . . so I'm guessing it's about you. Want to talk about it?

Not really. Maybe later?

Deal. Goodnight.

Goodnight.

And it was over as soon as it began. He was left alone with his thoughts.

He turned, gazing at a jacket hanging on the back of his desk chair. Light grey with golden buttons, it was cuffed just past the elbow. Quinlin had worn the style before it was popular, the fitted heavy cotton lined with a darker silk.

Alden got up, drifting towards his desk. He traced the top of his chair, nail running across the jacket's collar.

He quickly pulled it off the chair, shrugging into it haphazardly and curling his arms around his body as if it was a crime.

God, he was such an idiot. He was usually confident, self-assured. What was it about Quinlin that made him feel so stupid?

Was it the way he supported him, and knew when and when not to give him space? Or was it how he had a resting sad face, and always looked so confused when people asked if he was ok? Or was it the feeling Alden got when he was resting his forehead on Quinlin's, and their rings clicked together when his cognate cradled his face? The smile on Quinlin's lips when Alden shuddered out an exhale softly as his breath caught?

His line of thoughts trailed off as he fell asleep, dreaming of moments where the world was two people, and his cheeks were always tinted pink.

( Next up for Songfic Season . . . Fedex- who's excited? Enemies to lovers, anyone? Remember to vote, comment and request! )