𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧, young royals

Chapter 22: Wilhelm

More Than I,  Sheldon Riley

22: Wilhelm

"August was expelled."

I gently touched on the instruments in the room, the tip of my fingers grazing on the waxed wood of the piano where we'd sat all those months ago, not knowing what to do with my hands.

"I know," said Simon tonelessly.  "Everyone knows."

I looked at him again, my hands falling limply by my side.  "He admitted to stealing the pills on Saint Lucia, so you and your dad are in the clear," I told him.  "I just thought you should know."

He eyed me coldly.  "Thanks."

And then nothing.  I considered him, unspoken, and he stared back at me, angry tempests stirring to life in the brown of his irises.

I tipped my head and turned away from his stare, heading toward the door, when he spoke again:

"You really are a hypocrite, you know that?"

I halted and turned back to him, taken aback, eyes narrowing.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You lecture me about screwing myself up, and then you go and do the exact same thing with your life," he hissed sourly.  "I haven't heard from you in two weeks, you haven't answered one God damn text, and now this is all you have to say to me?  Do you have any idea how much that fucking hurts?"

It stung, but I didn't let it show.

"Do you have any idea how much it hurts to watch you waste away and know it's all my fault?" I fired back, heaving loud breaths.

Our emotions were lashing out, relinquishing their chains.

He rolled his eyes.  "Oh, pull your head out of your ass, Wilhelm.  Not everything is about you."

"That's a relief to hear," I sneered mirthlessly.  "How about you try to enlighten me, for a change?"

"That's rich, coming from you."

"Screw yourself," I scowled.

He scoffed, shaking his head, eyes suddenly hurling daggers at me.

"I don't even know why we keep yapping about like idiots.  There's clearly something wrong between us."

"Yeah," I replied cooly, "clearly."

"Clearly," he repeated. "I guess we're done here, then."

With that, he cast one last cold, irritated glare my way and shoved past me, darting toward the door.

"Yeah, that's right, walk away," I grumbled. "You always do."

And that got him.  He froze in his tracks, shoulders tensing, and whirled around to face me again, seething with rage.

"Fuck you, Wilhelm!" he snarled, stepping toward me. "I'm not the one who very obviously stopped giving a damn about us!"

"Stopped giving a damn?!" I echoed, appalled.  "Simon, there isn't a fucking thing in the world that I wouldn't do for you!  All I'm ever trying to do is to protect you."

I wanted to reach for the anger in me and fill my words with it, but when my voice came out, it only sounded like I was begging.

I was exhausted, jaded with screaming until our throats were bruised and our lungs collapsed.

"Protect me?" he spat bitterly.  "So where were you when I needed you there, uh?  How the hell am I supposed to know that you're all in if you can't even stick around?"