crossed over (alver x og cale)

Part 11

The trouble with self imposed isolation is that when you look up with the desire to be with others, you realize that you're all alone and you've crippled every potential friendship that could have bloomed.

The agony thereafter is numbing. As though the joke the whole lifetime spent had finally reached a punchline and it was at your expense.

Cale hadn't taken well to it.

He'd reached the absolute limit of the amount of solitude he could handle and could no longer hold back how much he craved the comfort of interaction.

But his family flinched when he came near.

He had nothing resembling a friendship.

And his world spiraled from there. The drunken behavior that had once been nothing more than an act gained more reality to it than it ever ought to have.

His outwardly reckless behavior became genuine and in his pursuit for hedonistic satisfaction, each situation became increasingly dangerous until he couldn't remember what his purpose was anymore.

Maybe his purpose was to die.

It was suffocating and he lashed out at everything in an attempt to breathe.

"It's not okay."

His lips had formed into a firm frown, his handsome face pinched with worry, deep brown eyes alight with an unnamed emotion. His touch was soft, gentle like no other touch had felt.

He clung to it.

Scared and volatile and unable to cope with all of the horrible emotions at war inside, he sought out the single source of warmth. He didn't care why–was it pity that linked them together? Trauma and fear?

He lashed out.

Testing and testing and screaming for air because he still couldn't breathe.

And when those lips touched his own, he was given new breath.

–

Cale eyed the knife against his throat dimly.

Well. He supposed that it made perfect sense that a prince would have guards. It was more surprising that he'd managed to impromptu kidnap the man yesterday. Still, Cale didn't have the fondest impression of people threatening his life.

Showing absolutely none of the fear that he ought to in this situation, Cale shot a dry look towards the prince who stood behind hooded guards.

It wasn't that Cale was an impressively brave or confident person, there was just only so many times in a person's lifetime that they could experience similar situations before the threat just lost its luster.

Besides, what was his worst case scenario here? They actually killed him? Good. He wasn't all that fond of continuing to live on in a fucking fantasy world where he'd lost all of the things that made him happy.

Garbage relationship with family. Friends. And his fiance didn't give any fucks about him, as seen by his current situation.

Alberu met his eyes and there was a flicker of emotion there.

"Identify yourself." The knife wielding cloaked individual spoke, voice dark and grim and promising swift death for disobedience.

Cale rolled his eyes. "Cale Henituse." Should he mention his father? Count's were supposed to be a big deal or someshit, right? He decided against it. He wasn't in the mood for hiding behind daddy's coattails.