crossed over (alver x og cale)

Part 10

The unique thing about Cale Henituse really had to be his ability to bounce back.

He simply wasn't capable of wallowing in self pity for an extended period of time. He'd make poor decisions, suffer the consequences of long term depression, and spiral into angry fits of frustration but he just couldn't stay in that state of mind.

For starters, it annoyed him.

There was only so long he could live the drama queen life before he got too annoyed with himself to tolerate it for even a second longer.

Okay. His life had been torn apart. And okay. He might never get it back. And okay. It had broken him to learn all of that.

So what the fuck was moping going to do for him? Would that bring his life back? Improve his situation? Improve the situation for any of the people he cared about?

Oh, he could certainly mope like a diva and he would upon being given the motivation and opportunity. But his stubborn streak wasn't just an external matter. He didn't just carefully regulate his entire persona in order to fool the masses, he was such a control freak that he needed to keep tight control over his own internal emotions.

Some people might say that was part of the reason he was so deeply emotionally damaged but they could take their fancy fucking doctorates in psychology and stuff it up their asses because Cale needed to cope somehow.

Cale was holding on by a thread and that thread was his iron will.

"Alright."

He looked up to the ceiling of the inn. Yesterday he'd allowed himself to lose his shit and he'd lost it.

"What now?"

The ceiling offered no answers. It rarely did.

Cale normally found his answers looking at the ground.

"You're more composed than this."

He really was. The unique nature of the situation had caused him to regress into an impulsivity that wasn't normal for him.

"Maybe I'm horny."

He always got a bit more agitated when he wasn't able to find satisfaction. Either way, it was still strange for him to spend this long with this little control.

He was all about acting like he was a basketcase, or at least he used to be, it was a whole different matter to be legitimately going insane.

"Fuck this."

How many times had he said that since he'd entered this dumbass fucking fantasy? And then how many times had the fantasy world kicked him so far in the nuts. He'd just regained his self-confidence in these uneasy times when his siblings were kidnapped. He'd just settled into his quest when he spotted his not-fiance.

"How unexpectedly stupid."

Talking to himself grounded himself in the moment. Allowed him to parse his useful thoughts from his useless pondering. Or maybe he just liked it.

Didn't really matter. If anyone had a problem with it, he'd tell them exactly where they could stick it.

"This is pathetic."

And Cale had quit pathetic cold turkey along with all of his other addictions, like wallowing in pity and self-destructive behavior.

So he'd relapsed. Relapses happened. The important step was what you did next.

While all of his reasons for wanting to meet the crown prince rang hollow now as they were all just excuses in hopes that Alberu would magic everything better with his dick or something, Cale had come up with a few very good and valid reasons to meet with Alberu.