Sigma Eta

Mister President

Victor let go of Musgrave's hand, getting abruptly to his feet and snatching it from where it lay. Going quickly to the coffee table he searched anxiously through the files, looking for the photo they had been pondering just tonight, before they had gone to bed. And there it was, that familiar square of ink. Victor snatched it up, studying each one of the boys as they were lined up in front of the house. He studied them row by row until at last he found those who were standing, examining their young and handsome faces.
"There he is!" Victor exclaimed, falling back onto the couch and pointing towards the boy he had seen tonight. It was uncanny, the curly hair, the snarky look, the beautiful face that was made to hide a black, twisted soul. Musgrave studied the face for a moment, nodding as he stared into the black and white eyes.
"He looks normal enough." He offered.
"He looks evil." Victor corrected. "But exactly the same. How could he be just the same?"
"Well, if he was in the house before the disaster I'd say he might have died. And if he died, then he'd be back looking quite similar, if not identical." Musgrave offered. Victor couldn't help but smile, reveling in hearing what could only be his own sense of logic.
"A ghost." He agreed excitedly. Musgrave shook his head in some annoyance, as if he hated to admit to that silly word.
"Strange to hear that spoken like gospel." Musgrave admitted.
"It's nice to know that I'm not crazy." Victor chuckled.
"Not crazy? Now let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet. Victor, you're crazy. The thing is, you've dragged me down to your level, and now we're both crazy." Musgrave reminded him. Victor chuckled, ducking his head quickly, for he couldn't seem to bring himself to look into those eyes any longer.
"I'll take that as a compliment." He decided in a meek voice.
"You should, really." Musgrave admitted. "I'm quite alright with madness."
"I'm sorry this all had to happen tonight. It wasn't...well it wasn't at all an ideal situation." Victor muttered.
"It's better it happened tonight than any other." Musgrave assured. "Besides, I'm happy now. Happier than I was before I fell to sleep."
"How so?" Victor asked, wondering if Musgrave really was happy when speaking of ghosts and madness.
"Well, I'm relieved. Relieved to know that you were more afraid of Mr. Sherlock than you were with the idea of being wrapped in my arms." Musgrave admitted, a small smile playing across his cheeks as they reddened.
"No, no I was never afraid of that." Victor assured quickly. Musgrave smiled, reaching one of his hands up towards Victor's cheek and catching it within his palm. Victor knew what was going to happen long before Musgrave began to lean in, and in his excitement he chose to make it a little easier. Well of course he wasn't supposed to be moving, that was the intention of the hand, though he launched his face forward and smacked their foreheads together quite painfully. It was a foolish mistake, enough to make him gasp out a tiny "ouch!" in protest, though before long he had recovered, and just as soon as his head stopped spinning he could feel Musgrave's lips upon his own. It was a small kiss, one more akin to a goodnight peck if anything at all. But it was meaningful enough, and when they pulled away Victor felt as though the entire room was spinning beneath his feet. That might have been the collision, though it might also have been the kiss. It was a beautiful realization, a beautiful justification! For as soon as their lips met he knew for sure that everything he had been feeling up until this point was perfectly valid, and that while his heart struggled to rationalize it all as a plea for friendship, or an anxious call for a companion, instead it had been settled as a true love story. Two sided, as all the best ones were.
"Would you like the couch, Victor? I can sleep on the floor." Musgrave offered, letting his hand fall away from Victor's cheek and giving him a quiet smile.
"I'll be fine. In fact, we can give the couch a rest for the rest of the night if you would prefer." Victor offered. Musgrave's eyebrows raised, though he didn't get ahead of himself. Victor was offering a good night sleep, nothing more, and in the end he figured Musgrave realized that.
"It would be more comfortable, undoubtedly." Musgrave agreed. Victor nodded, getting to his feet with a little smile. He took Musgrave's hand, leading him away, and leaving the folder open on the desk. The photo lay aside on its own, exposed on the glass, and leaving the rest of the documents untended. The top one, a moving slip, issued to a Mr. Sebastian Moran.