The Stains Beneath Our Skin [mxm] ✔

27.1 | Will O' Wisp Eve

The ghoul slipped past him, and its laughter stuck in Casper's ears like needles. A sick otherworldly glow came off its skin, and its eyes and gaping grin made the gaping void in its skull.

Cain. Casper eased the tension out and knocked his head back against the wall. Of course. But the footsteps sounded strange for him. Slow. Directionless. Cain didn't wander, and even his attempts at it seemed to have a purpose in mind.

Just go back to fucking bed, Roach. Ol' nutjob can't be up to anything good.

If he were looking for Casper, he'd find him in bed quick enough. The ghoul seemed to pout at him as he crept off down the hall, but the ghoul could fuck off.

Cain's bedroom was only a moment away from the stairs leading up to Casper's, and as Casper got closer, the steps grew louder and that knot in his stomach deepened. They were past the bedroom in the direction of the balcony, and just as Casper reached the bedroom door, they stopped. Casper stopped too, his hand squeezing the doorknob and a hiss slipping between his gritted teeth.

Fuck sake, Roach.

Casper set off down the hall. Probably needed another cigarette to send him to sleep anyway.

Like you'll ever sleep well again in your life.

No. This was it. New life, new Casper. And this new Casper slept well, and it had shit all to do with Cain.

The direction was just a guess, but after a minute, a blue glow seeped into the darkness of the hall like a beckoning will o' wisp, and Casper, entranced, followed it.

R2 puttered tiny circles just outside the balcony door, dusty indigo trails in a ring above its path. The door was closed, but no matter how dark it was, Cain's silhouette at the balcony edge still cut the void out of the heavy, grey clouds.

Not smoking. That seemed odd.

A twitch ran through the shadow as Casper pushed open the door, and before he closed it, Cain's voice trembled soft through the silence.

"Casper?" The shadow of him turned, the gleam of the construct's light catching wet on his eyes. "Is that you, love?"

"It's me."

Casper edged out onto the balcony, shivering with his dressing gown pulled tight around him, and Cain came to meet him. Just a pair of boxers shielded his skin from the chill bite of the wind. It got Casper's balls shrivelling just looking at him, but Cain walked through it serene, a god wandering through a summer glade. The construct's glow tracked the wet streaks across his face, ever-shifting rivers meandering through a subterranean cave and illuminated only by brief glimpses of moonlight.

Cain's fingers brushed over Casper's cheek. The rotten stink of sorcery lay heavy around them, cutting fresh through pine-laden air and backed by the sweet taste of winter. Cain's voice came so small and hesitant it might have died in the air between them if Casper was any more than an arm's length away. "I was looking for you, Cassie. I—I woke up and I couldn't find you."

Something about the way he spoke put chills wherever the wind hadn't yet laid claim. Not for fear of him but ... something wasn't right. Same as earlier. So faraway, those words, out in whatever land the strange tongue he spoke in his sleep had been conceived. His eyes weren't quite on Casper, drifting away as if he followed a dream.

Casper held Cain's hand and pressed it against his cheek. So bitter cold that his touch stung Casper's skin. A hitch caught in his chest, something wet settling in his lungs. "I couldn't sleep," he whispered. "That's all. I went for a walk."

"I—I had a dream, Cassie..." The light on the tear tracks shifted as he turned his head, one way, lingering, and the other. A shudder ran through Cain, his fingers tightening on Casper's jaw. "A nightmare. I—"