glowing. || julian devorak

part eleven.

"Right this way, careful, careful," Portia murmured, dodging low branches and stray exotic birds.

"I haven't been down this way before."

Portia laughed, a strained little sound. "Yeah, I suppose it is off the beaten path. I thought it would be a nice place to talk, though."

"Talk about what?" James asked.

"Do you remember when we met?"

"You mean when I picked a fight over a pomegranate?"

"Ha! I almost forgot about that. I was thinking about the first time we really talked, after you saw me with my brother. When you told me you didn't want to send an innocent man to the gallows."

"...oh. You were thinking about that?"

"Mhmm," Portia hummed. "That was the moment I knew what kind of person you are. Understanding, empathetic... moral."

Portia's steps came to an abrupt stop, and James nearly crashed into her. They were in the garden that surrounded Portia's cottage. The shortcut, however unpleasant, had been very efficient.

"Portia... what exactly am I doing here?"

The redhead set to unlocking the door, shuffling through her massive keyring. "Last minute adjustments, fine tuning, you know how it is."

"It's an odd location for a dress fitting."

Portia nodded. "Odd, yes, yes."

"Will Asra be joining us?"

"Um... yes, yeah, of course." A lie, James could just tell.

"And the Countess?"

"..."

"What's going on, Portia?"

"Oh! Here it is!" The small door swung open. "In you go..."

James immediately felt the nervous energy that permeated the cottage, and a few seconds later she saw the cause.

"...Jules. What are you..." She turned, the implied end of her question hanging from her lips, to see the door shutting in her face as Portia left in a hurry.

The doctor stood, tall and hollow-eyed, in the small kitchenette of Portia's cottage. "...hi, James. How, um, how have you been?"

James resisted the urge to snap at him, to unleash all the pain and frustration that had building up over the last few weeks. "...not too bad. Dress fittings, taste testings... Asra's parents are in town, you should say hello before they leave."

"Ah, the alchemists." Julian's tone was fond. "Aisha makes me quite nervous, you know, but they're both very kind."

"Do I make you nervous, Julian?"

He suddenly became stiff, like a jolt had run down his spine. "Wh-what?"

"Is that why you've been avoiding me? I deserve to know the reason."

"Avoiding you? I— well." The doctor bit his tongue. "Maybe you ought to ask Asra."

"Asra says you're coming to the wedding."

"Asra's a sadist." The response came quick and snappish, and James felt a small thrill at riling him up.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

For a second, it looked like he might finally cave, might admit what he'd been hiding, but then he just breathed deeply, seeming to compose himself. "...nothing. I didn't mean anything by that."

"If you have a problem with me and Asra, why don't you talk to me about it?"

"Hm?"

"What kind of archaic setup is this? The men discussing the bride, and I don't get a say in anything?" James took a step closer, and Julian took a wobbly step back, falling into one of the chairs around Portia's dining table. "Could you just be honest with me? Can you tell me what I did to make you hate me?"

"Oh, come on, James. You know I could never hate you. It... It's just better this way." Julian scrambled back to his feet, his coat creased and his stance unsteady.

"Why? I need an answer."

"I-I can't—"

"Tell me."

"It's... it's complicated, James—"

"Tell me."

"I love you!"

The statement came out hurriedly, the words blending into each other, but James had heard it, and Julian couldn't pretend he hadn't said it. "...you love me?"

Julian's face, pallid and pale, drained further. "I've tried not to. James, I swear, I'd do anything to not feel this way. I'm sorry." He turned to cough, covering his mouth with his sleeve.

"How long?"

"Pardon?" His voice was scratchy.

"How long have you loved me?"

The man sighed, sinking back down into the chair. "How long have we known each other?" He barreled on, leaving no room for interjections. "Three years, for you, nearly eight for me. How long have I loved you? From the moment we met. When you were my apprentice, when you were just a ghost, when I saw you that night I broke into the shop. And still, now, when you're somebody else's... still, I love you." He sighed deeply. "Hard as I try not to."

"And Asra?"

"Asra knows. I think he always knew."

"Do you love him?"

Julian's eyes drooped, his whole body seeming to deflate. For a second, James worried he may have fainted, until he looked up at her. "I think I do. And I'm sorry for that as well."

"Jules..."

A brisk knock came at the door. "James?" Nadia's clear tone was easily recognizable. "Portia said I could find you here. Are you ready for your fitting?"

"I—" James's voice came out in a choked sob. "I'll be right there, Nadi!" She turned back to Julian, who had stood in a hurry when he heard the knock. "I... I have to go. But I want to keep talking about this, will you come to dinner tonight? Please."

"I... yes, of course, James. I'll be there."

James walked to the door, gaze lingering on the doctor for what might have been a second too long. The instant the door had closed again, Julian allowed himself to cough, hacking up the whole blossoms until his lungs had none left to give.