"They've split your lip!" His voice was tinged with anger as he grabbed the edge of my chin, "They've split your lips for god's sake!" I scrunched up my nose, feeling my cheeks get hot as he continued to dote on me.
"I'm a Blackwater, Falcäo." I scoffed, rubbing the back of my hand against my bleeding lip, feeling the sting of dry skin against an open wound. "I have to get stronger." I looked at the boy, his head tilted slightly, those golden locks slightly moving in the evening breeze. "I have to." I repeated, holding his gaze, watching as those thin dark brows furrowed together.
"You don't have to do anything, (Y/N)." He sighed, "Your family and that damned legacy will be the death of you." He turned his back to me for a moment, shaking his head as he spoke, "Look at me! My entire family, a prodigy of bakers! And me?" He spun around, his hands pressed against his chest, "A fucking bard!" I grit my teeth, feeling the throbbing in my face as I shouted.
"It's not the same!" I yelled, blood spitting from my lips. Falcäo looked surprised by my tone, his blue eyes widened slightly as he seemed to recoil further from me, "If I can't uphold the family legacy, then I will be exactly what they all think I am!" Those blue orbs softened as they met mine, a glint of pity flashing through him only angering me more. I bit back the tears in my eyes, feeling the blood drip down my chin, "I am nothing and I refuse to die as nothing!" I furrowed my brows, my head pounding as I gently shook it side to side, "I can't let them be right, Falcäo." The blonde boy frowned, reaching forward and blurring the line between friend and...something more. I almost lurched away, afraid of his touch, afraid of crossing that line. His fingers slid up against my cheek, his thumb running over my split lip as he tilted my head upwards.
"You've never been nothing to me, (Y/N)."
The pain I felt was enough to wake me up. I slowly opened my eyes, the sunlight beaming through a cerulean colored ceiling, burning my eyes. My lips parted as I drank in the cold and crisp air, tasting the faint smell of freshly ground herbs and burnt incense. I scrunched up my nose, the ache around my face causing a throbbing in my head as I slowly tried to regather my thoughts.
Where was I?
"Sorry, did that wake you?" His voice was gentle and calm, in stark contrast to those who've developed habits of waking me from my very few slumbers. "My tonics aren't all bells and whistles I'm afraid." I reached up, my hand trembling as the tips of my fingers grazed my bare face. I should've panicked, I should've scrambled for something to cover my curse, to hide my shame. But...I was relieved. "You can't heal an oathbreaker with spells." I heard him mumble, dusting off his hands as he rose from whatever corner of the room he resided in. He finally leaned over me, a strand of his brown hair following forward and tickling my nose, "But I don't need to tell you that, do I?" Fucking Waterdeep.
I stared at the wizard blankly, my hands falling at my side like dead weight. Gale spun back around, fiddling with ceramics on a thin and wobbly wooden table, knocking over small empty glass bottles in the process. I sat up silently, silk sheets falling off my torso as I rose. I was in a bed, presumably Gales, in my brasserie with a pair of tattered brown trousers. I placed a hand over my head, cradling the part that throbbed and ached as I groaned softly, my eyes slowly flicking over the wizard who continued to hurriedly dump spices and herbs into a grinder while mumbling incoherently under his breath. I pursed my lips, unsure of what I should say, a bit too tired to think of anything in particular. I didn't care that Gale had learned my secret, if anything I felt a terrible sense of relief. If he revealed my secret, I wouldn't have to hide anymore, pretend to be something I'm not. And I'd be free from this wretched group. This group. I felt my face twitch in annoyance. Wyll. I promised myself I'd protect him from what I'd become, I promised I wouldn't destroy him too. I can't leave him, not yet, I'm not-.
