The Lout's Pet Squirrel (og alcale)

Part 8

Alver was sure that he must have gone insane.

For what other possible reason could he have made such a drastic and frankly foolish decision?

He couldn't comprehend it. Had losing all of his dreams, aspirations, and accomplishments really made him lose his mind?

...when he put it that way, it made plenty of sense for him to go a little crazy. It would be a lot stranger if he actually was totally sane after everything that he had endured. Still, he would like to think that he had more sanity than this.

"You must have been scared. Huh, little guy?"

Alver chittered in response, allowing Cale to indulge himself in petting his tummy despite the slight shame it made him feel.

Cale looked a lot better though.

Alver's gaze flickered from Cale's relieved expression and toward the window, which had received quite a bit of reinforcement due to the incident with the 'thief'.

"...do you want to go again?"

It wasn't his imagination, Cale sounded lonely as he asked.

But Alver had the feeling that Cale would let him go if he tried to go.

What a confusing punk.

If Alver really thought about it, it was all Cale's fault. If Cale hadn't been so confusing and sincere...

"I'll pay you anything you want. Just find that damn squirrel."

Despite the agitation in his voice, the desperation in Cale's eyes was sincere. It shocked Alver just how much.

"...excuse me?" He couldn't help himself. "Why does someone like you," trash, lout, uncouth, cruel, violent, awful, a shame to his family, a disloyal son, "want to find that 'damn squirrel' so badly?"

There was that pain again.

The one that Alver had witnessed briefly after that first breakfast.

It didn't make any sense to him. Cale had everything yet he misbehaved on purpose and terrorized his family. Now he was desperately hunting down a squirrel that he'd only picked up on a whim.

He was an obnoxious contradiction.

Alver's hand bunched into a fist. Now that he had a voice, he could express how this lout actually made him feel. The frustration. The anger. The jealousy.

He was jealous.

Alver could acknowledge that.

If Alver had been born to the Henituse family, he would have never done the terrible things that Cale did. Hurt his loving father or rejected his kind step family. Alver would have embraced his family with all of his strength. And for what reason did Cale do this all?

Because he was sad over his mothers death?

The shared trauma ought to have brought about understanding in Alver's heart but he just felt further resentment. He lost his mother too but he wasn't as foolish as Cale. If Alver's father had still loved him...

...if he hadn't been left alone...

...if he had everything that Cale so casually rejected as though it wasn't good enough for him...

And for what? Cale clearly loved them too. What possible purpose did he have in acting like trash all this time.

Alver couldn't understand and a part of him hated Cale for it.

He didn't know everything about Cale's past but nothing he endured could possibly be worse than the childhood that Alver was subjected to.

Perhaps he would have been able to be mature about it if he hadn't just lost everything. Just the reveal of who he was on the inside was enough for those who swore their loyalty to wonder if he was a curse. A menace.

An abomination.

How could Cale understand that? Forced to play a role his entire life and for his efforts to mean nothing.

Cale's hand was calloused.

Alver blinked eyes that he didn't realize had filled with unshed tears and tried to jerk his hand back away from Cale's firm grip.

Cale fixed him with a calm but meaningful expression.

"Hey, asshole." Cale squeezed his hand painfully. "You can let out all your weird aggression toward me after we find the fucking squirrel. If you wanna beat the shit out of me, that can be your damn price."

Firm. Confident. Elegant. And so absolutely thuggish.

Cale was a contradiction.

Strange, Alver couldn't understand why but he couldn't pry his eyes away from the striking sight of Cale's ferocious eyes.

From the very first day, there was just something that drew him toward Cale.

Alver pulled his hand away.

"I'll find your squirrel."

Cale fixed him with a cheeky grin.

"Found your price."

Alver didn't have it in him to deny it. He didn't actually want to beat up Cale and his will to even direct his misplaced frustrations over his unfortunate circumstances.

They were different. It hurt that Cale had almost everything that he ever wanted and threw it away like garbage but he knew Cale had his reasons. Cale was purposeful in his every action, even the bizarre acts that made no sense.

Perhaps Cale lost his mind a long time ago.

That made sense, considering how crazy his behavior was. Maybe Alver was just drawn in by the insanity and just couldn't look away from the tragedy.

...there was something about the way that Cale's eyes could blaze like fire even in the cool moonlight that stuck with him.

"Go home." Alver said. "I'll bring it back to your balcony."

Cale scowled. "And why should I trust you not to just run away?"

Alver thought about it seriously. That was a fair enough question. "I don't get my payment if I don't deliver."

"That desperate to hit a Count's son without consequence? Got beef with nobility in general or am I a special case?"

"You're definitely special."

He should have run away then. Left all of this confusion behind him.

He didn't want to admit that somewhere in his heart, he was touched. For someone, anyone, to care about him enough to be willing to go as far as Cale was willing to go.

How stupid. Cale didn't know him. He was just interested in a cute fluffy animal. But in so many ways, it felt like a hidden part of him was finally being embraced and protected.

He really must have gone insane.

He probably contracted the disease from the lout of the Henituse family.