"Then..." He strokes his fingers over Alfred's cheek, looking thoughtful. He's such an insecure person, deep down. Oh, he puts on a good show of it, with his bravado and his grandiosity. But he doesn't always feel that way.
Except around Alfred. Alfred makes him feel that way.
"Then we'll have to be each other's mirrors, won't we? And we'll have to show each other how much the other one shines."
Something...changes, in the way that Alfred is looking at Herbert. A subtle shift in his eyes, a softening, a warmth in his expression. It's taking time, but...something is changing between them. Something important. Lost in thought, he reaches up to cup Herbert's cheek, as soft as a butterfly landing.
Herbert leans into the touch, feeling the way Alfred's hands are so much rougher than his own. The way the calluses and rough spots feel against his skin. "Yes of course. You can ask me anything you want to, lovely boy."
There is a long moment as he collects his thoughts, and then -
"...You...you told me that you...you loved me, from the first moment you saw me." The words tumble out, haphazard, stammering. "But...how did you know? That it was...."
Something in his heart twinges, and it isn't hard to tell he is trying to work something through.
"...That it was real? Even though we had never met?"
Oh, that's a very good question. He thinks for a moment, considering his answer. How, exactly to word how he was feeling when he first laid eyes on Alfred.
"Because for the first time in almost two hundred years, it felt like my heart was beating again. It felt like I saw the sun again."
Alfred's eyes go very wide - the sincerity, the sheer weight in those words...the idea that he is that important to...anyone? It almost frightens him. The hand on Herbert's knee moves up to rub at the scar on the side of his neck, twisted and gnarled.
He thought he had loved Sarah, the first time he saw her. He really did. He put himself through so much over it, too, had thrown his whole heart into trying to save her from her family, then from the castle....
But it was never like that, was it? He was surprised, attracted, enamored, but....
His eyes lower, as do his shoulders, his hand shaking on Herbert's cheek as he voices the realization:
"Oh, that's -- " It's a hard thing to realize. Herbert had gone through that a few times, himself, after -- well, after a lot of things. Taking on a new boy who had seemed like he might be the one, but it turned out he'd just thought him handsome, or charming, and there was no substance to his attraction. Not like --
... anyway.
He takes the hand on his cheek and presses it between his own hands, reassuringly. "That's perfectly all right. Though I know it seems very painful, right now, to realize that. And it might hurt for some time, yet."
Herbert is being so sweet, so kind, so reassuring - and maybe that's why the dam finally shatters within Alfred. His expression goes from realization, to self-loathing, and finally settles on...broken, face screwing tight as he begins to sob. His free hand moves to Herbert's shoulder to grasp in his shirt, head bowing to bury itself in his chest.
It hurts, it really does.
But maybe it will hurt less than thinking there was ever a chance.
"I'm such - I'm such an idiot," he wails, laying bare his feelings in a way he hasn't done in front of Herbert before. Because he feels safe.
It shatters Herbert's heart to see Alfred like that. So confused, so heartbroken. He carefully sets aside both their mending so he can pull Alfred close, wrapping his arms tight around him and stroking his hair gently.
"You're not, Alfred, you're not. You're young, that's all. You found a -- lovely girl and felt something you hadn't felt before. It's hard, I know, and I know you feel foolish and that your heart feels like it's breaking, but I promise you you're not an idiot for feeling this way."
"She wasn't even really lovely," he spits, surprisingly bitter - and then immediately regrets it, shaking his head and cringing even as he's got his face buried securely in Herbert's arms. "I mean - she's - she was - ah, I don't know...."
But despite his quailing, he's still being honest. With himself, and with the man in front of him.
The man in front of him who...made him feel wanted, for the first time in forever.
Herbert rolls his eyes a little, not at Alfred, no of course not, but at the mere thought of Sarah. "Well I agree with you there, but that still doesn't matter. You felt how you felt. And there's nothing wrong with that."
And he holds him. Through his crying over his heart aching for someone else. Because he loves Alfred, and they have all of eternity to figure out their own complicated feelings for each other. Whatever time Alfred takes mourning the loss of a potential love is a drop in the bucket, compared to what they could have. What they will have.
He never loved her at all. No, he didn't. He loved the idea of it, the concept of being the hero in a fairytale, rescuing the poor, imprisoned princess from the haunted castle. But...this isn't a fairy tale, is it?
It's not a fairy tale, and he will never be a hero.
Sniffling, he clutches tightly to Herbert, his sobbing finally slowing down as he is soothed by the other man's arms, his voice, his words.
"...Thank you, Herbert," he whimpers. "I...I really don't know what I would do without you."
"Oh you could do plenty without me. I'm just here to help you see your light, remember? And no matter how many times you need to cry over her, I'll be here for you. I'll still hold you, I'll listen to your sorrows and try my best to comfort you through them."
He takes a deep breath, because this is hard to admit, but -- "I've thought I was in love, too. Long ago. And it shattered me when I realized it wasn't as real as I wanted it to be."
For a long moment, Alfred just listens - and his jaw works a little as he tries to find the words for a reply. To tell him no, that it's more than that, that he can tell it's more than that -
But then...Herbert is sharing something that is...very personal. He pries himself back enough to look up at him, bright blue eyes still full of tears.
Herbert nods, and it's his turn to look sheepish. Shy, almost. Certainly unused to talking about his feelings this openly and honestly.
"I was... foolish, when I was younger. I thought a few times I was in love, but it was merely an infatuation. Or I wanted so much to be in love that I convinced myself I was."
"It's a complicated thing, love. Sometimes we want it so badly we're willing to go to great extremes for it.
Which is why I want to apologize, again, for our little meeting. I fell head over heels for you, and wanted so badly for you to feel the same. It was all I could think about, having you in my life. Not wanting to -- to lose you. It's why I acted like I did."
That...makes sense to Alfred. He feels something in the depths of his heart - an echo, something sad, something old.
He doesn't know what it is, but it makes him reach up to rest his hand on the back of Herbert's neck.
"... It's all right," he murmurs. "I...I was...afraid. Because no one had ever...wanted me like that, before. Had ever told me. I wasn't...expecting it. The whole night was...so dizzying."
He hadn't been feeling his best at that moment, either, he recalls. He was starving, terrified of failing, lost. He hadn't been expecting someone to be...nice.
Even if he did try to bite. But Alfred understands that a little better now.
"No one? Not ever? I saw and just -- felt my heart swell. You looked so sweet, with your cheeks rosy from the cold and snowflakes on those long golden lashes of yours."
He worries at his lip for a moment before he confesses, more quietly, hesitantly, "I had waited too long, once before, and lost my chance. So I wanted to act on it before I lost you."
"No one. Not ever," he confirms, voice going a little downtrodden. "In fact, just...just a couple minutes before we met, I found Sarah. She...told me to go away."
Maybe he should have taken the hint then, really.
The shift in Herbert's tone catches his attention like a rabbit in a snare, though - his gaze snaps to peer closely at his expression, the hand on the back of his neck rubbing in soothing little circles. "Oh, Herbert," he murmurs, softly, sympathetically. Sarah may not want him, but...here he is, with someone who does. Who did, right away.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that happened to you, and...and I'm not going anywhere, now. I'm staying right here. With you."
He offers a little smile, sad and sweet, and there is just...a glimmer of something More behind the tearful shimmer of his blue eyes.
"Better not," he says, trying and not quite managing to bring his teasing his tone back. "I'm an excellent hunter, as you well know."
But he needn't worry about that, now. Not when Alfred is right beside him, stroking his neck, looking at him with the most sincere expression that Herbert almost can't bear it. "Besides, if you go, who will mend my shirts?"
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Except around Alfred. Alfred makes him feel that way.
"Then we'll have to be each other's mirrors, won't we? And we'll have to show each other how much the other one shines."
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Something...changes, in the way that Alfred is looking at Herbert. A subtle shift in his eyes, a softening, a warmth in his expression. It's taking time, but...something is changing between them. Something important. Lost in thought, he reaches up to cup Herbert's cheek, as soft as a butterfly landing.
"...May I...may I ask you something?"
Halting. Nervous.
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"...You...you told me that you...you loved me, from the first moment you saw me." The words tumble out, haphazard, stammering. "But...how did you know? That it was...."
Something in his heart twinges, and it isn't hard to tell he is trying to work something through.
"...That it was real? Even though we had never met?"
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"Because for the first time in almost two hundred years, it felt like my heart was beating again. It felt like I saw the sun again."
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Alfred's eyes go very wide - the sincerity, the sheer weight in those words...the idea that he is that important to...anyone? It almost frightens him. The hand on Herbert's knee moves up to rub at the scar on the side of his neck, twisted and gnarled.
He thought he had loved Sarah, the first time he saw her. He really did. He put himself through so much over it, too, had thrown his whole heart into trying to save her from her family, then from the castle....
But it was never like that, was it? He was surprised, attracted, enamored, but....
His eyes lower, as do his shoulders, his hand shaking on Herbert's cheek as he voices the realization:
"...I...I don't think I...ever really loved her."
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... anyway.
He takes the hand on his cheek and presses it between his own hands, reassuringly. "That's perfectly all right. Though I know it seems very painful, right now, to realize that. And it might hurt for some time, yet."
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It hurts, it really does.
But maybe it will hurt less than thinking there was ever a chance.
"I'm such - I'm such an idiot," he wails, laying bare his feelings in a way he hasn't done in front of Herbert before. Because he feels safe.
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"You're not, Alfred, you're not. You're young, that's all. You found a -- lovely girl and felt something you hadn't felt before. It's hard, I know, and I know you feel foolish and that your heart feels like it's breaking, but I promise you you're not an idiot for feeling this way."
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But despite his quailing, he's still being honest. With himself, and with the man in front of him.
The man in front of him who...made him feel wanted, for the first time in forever.
Who makes him feel safe.
Who cried for him, cared for him...who saved him.
Who he refused Death for.
Oh.
Oh.
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And he holds him. Through his crying over his heart aching for someone else. Because he loves Alfred, and they have all of eternity to figure out their own complicated feelings for each other. Whatever time Alfred takes mourning the loss of a potential love is a drop in the bucket, compared to what they could have. What they will have.
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It's not a fairy tale, and he will never be a hero.
Sniffling, he clutches tightly to Herbert, his sobbing finally slowing down as he is soothed by the other man's arms, his voice, his words.
"...Thank you, Herbert," he whimpers. "I...I really don't know what I would do without you."
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He takes a deep breath, because this is hard to admit, but -- "I've thought I was in love, too. Long ago. And it shattered me when I realized it wasn't as real as I wanted it to be."
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But then...Herbert is sharing something that is...very personal. He pries himself back enough to look up at him, bright blue eyes still full of tears.
"...Really?"
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"I was... foolish, when I was younger. I thought a few times I was in love, but it was merely an infatuation. Or I wanted so much to be in love that I convinced myself I was."
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He holds on to him just a little tighter, his desperate cling for comfort turning more into a hug.
"That's - that's it, that's it exactly. Wanting to be in love, wanting to be...wanted."
Like he is now.
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Which is why I want to apologize, again, for our little meeting. I fell head over heels for you, and wanted so badly for you to feel the same. It was all I could think about, having you in my life. Not wanting to -- to lose you. It's why I acted like I did."
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He doesn't know what it is, but it makes him reach up to rest his hand on the back of Herbert's neck.
"... It's all right," he murmurs. "I...I was...afraid. Because no one had ever...wanted me like that, before. Had ever told me. I wasn't...expecting it. The whole night was...so dizzying."
He hadn't been feeling his best at that moment, either, he recalls. He was starving, terrified of failing, lost. He hadn't been expecting someone to be...nice.
Even if he did try to bite. But Alfred understands that a little better now.
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He worries at his lip for a moment before he confesses, more quietly, hesitantly, "I had waited too long, once before, and lost my chance. So I wanted to act on it before I lost you."
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Maybe he should have taken the hint then, really.
The shift in Herbert's tone catches his attention like a rabbit in a snare, though - his gaze snaps to peer closely at his expression, the hand on the back of his neck rubbing in soothing little circles. "Oh, Herbert," he murmurs, softly, sympathetically. Sarah may not want him, but...here he is, with someone who does. Who did, right away.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that happened to you, and...and I'm not going anywhere, now. I'm staying right here. With you."
He offers a little smile, sad and sweet, and there is just...a glimmer of something More behind the tearful shimmer of his blue eyes.
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But he needn't worry about that, now. Not when Alfred is right beside him, stroking his neck, looking at him with the most sincere expression that Herbert almost can't bear it. "Besides, if you go, who will mend my shirts?"
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So instead he just keeps smiling, but -
"You're right. So...I promise. I promise not to leave - even when you master mending seams."
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"Well I doubt I will ever surpass your creativity and your very fine stitching, but I appreciate your faith in me."
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His smile is thoughtful as he strokes the back of the other man's head one more time, soft and...caring. Caring is a step.
"I think you're full of surprises."
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