Better Left Unsaid

15

The sun was already rising when Heine returned to his room through the window. It took longer than he expected due to his bloodied and bruised hands. He didn't really feel the pain on them until now.

With a sigh, he carefully slipped off his dirtied coat and dropped it on the ground. His hands shook as he turned around and closed the window. With that done, he made his way to the bathroom connected to his room. He stared at the large shining mirror. He looked like a mess. Dirt all over this face, some blood too. He looked down at the decorative sink below. He turned the knob and the water spilled out. His hands touch the cold water and he hissed slightly. His hands shook more. Shrugging it off, he cupped his hands and let the water fall into them. He leaned down and splashed the water onto his face. He turned the water off then and leaned back, avoiding the look of the mirror.

He made his way to the bed and knelt down. Feeling around underneath, he found the box he kept under there. He grabbed it and placed it onto the bed. His hands still shook. He tried hard to keep them in control. Especially as he tried to handle the contents of the box.

Glass bottles clanked as he shuffled through it. He grabbed one small bottle of vodka and gauze. Shakily, he opened the bottle and spilled it onto the gauze. He closed it once done.

Gritting his teeth hard, he placed the gauze onto his knuckles. He hissed sharply. He kept his hand in places as he used the other to grab the bandages in the box. He was quick to wrap it around. Once done with the left, he moved onto the right repeating the process.

With his hands bandaged, he closed the box and put it back in its place. Another sigh and he was flopping onto the bed, bouncing slightly.

The bed was warm and soft. A contrast to the tree he leaned on. He studied the ornate cieling. A pattern of swirls and curls at the edges to adorn the nothingness I'm the middle. It was beautiful yet lacked substance.

A cieling didn't mean anything. It just existed. He really was going mad given that a cieling seemed like a good distraction. Maybe he was just too exhausted to think straight. Most likely.

His eyes flickered shut and he drifted.

~

Licht let out a big sigh as he walked around the large corridors of the palace. Spending the entire night awake really took a number out of him. His muscles ached and face felt like it was sagging with how exhaustion he was. Not a particular good thing to him but for once he didn't care.

He was focused, far more than he should be from the lack of sleep. He thought about a lot last night, there wasn't any room for sleep. He thought about Heine mostly. He thought closely about the man's every actions.

Too many coincidences is what he concluded.

He let out another sigh as he walked into his father's office.

"Licht, what do you need?" It was just him and Victor. He looked at Victor. He looked equally tired. They were on the same boat here.

"Answers."

"Ask away." Nothing changed in Victor's expression. He kept a smile and leaned back in his chair.

"What were you doing in Heine's room?"

"I was talking with him on an important matter."

"Why was he crying?" In truth, Licht was not happy at all about all this. He kept a straight face though.

"You won't like the answer."

"I can take it."

"I know that you can't."