Calling Day: Conversation w/ Finch Ridlington ~ongoing~
There was a strange tension in the air. A desire for closeness Orpheus longed to break, yet he did not dare give in to the temptation of forgiveness.
In truth, Orpheus was unsure of what to forgive. The act? The aftermath? The man who reached out for him now? Had Orpheus even truly held any resentment anymore?
The anger had been pulled from him time and time again through each exhausting interaction, and he was unsure what even remained for Finch. There was a residual sort of adoration leftover from their time together. There was pain. There was longing. And even still, something more, yet Orpheus could not determine the feeling.
Orpheus attempted to steady himself, standing to face Finch again, leaning against the bed frame for support against his shaking legs.
[color= #14a3c7] “It is not pity, it is concern!” [/color] Finch admitted. The sincerity behind his words had struck Orpheus.
Concern? How strange the word alone seemed. Orpheus had not seen himself as requiring concern, and the line between what constituted concern and pity seemed a thin one. The weight of Finch’s care appeared to be a burden and a balm, a pull between the pain of betrayal and the yearning for a connection lost to time.
Any concern given now seemed nearly an insult to Orpheus’ own strength. For his body had been beaten and bruised before, in worse condition than he stood now, yet the scarring left behind by those who had left him remained untended.
Orpheus had survived each encounter, always coming out on top. He did not require anyone’s concern. Let alone the man who had set his own scars upon him.
[color= #BC0057] “Then do not be concerned for me!” [/color] Orpheus shot back, his anger rising again to match Finch’s heat. On shaking legs and pained movements, Orpheus moved toward Finch, standing directly in front of him now. [color= #BC0057] “I am not Juliet! I am not your brother! I am not a child, Finch! I can take care of myself! A fact I have proven by your absence.” [/color] Orpheus’ still hoarse and breaking voice betrayed his words, the cracks in each utterance a reflection of the slow breaks along each fragment of Orpheus’ body and mind.
Yet, there sat a knowing stare between the two men now, an acknowledgment of healing. For as Finch’s hands wrapped Orpheus’ bloodied palms, so too did he mend the scars he had left behind.
Slowly.
One twist of the bandage at a time.
Despite Orpheus’ refusal to admit it, his resentment of Finch had deteriorated on that balcony at the Queen’s ball. Seeing his face, the true care that shone in his eyes, it had melted any distain Orpheus had harbored over the years.
As quickly as his anger had risen, it dissipated upon hearing Finch’s admission of guilt.
Having not forgiven himself, meant he had not forgotten either. The mutual pain of the night that tethered them together despite their distance had been the one truth amongst the betrayal.
For some reason, hearing that Finch felt guilty and pained by his decision made Orpheus nearly…happy. The idea that the night had not been kept in pleasant, passionate splendor and instead was resigned to thoughts about Orpheus himself, thoughts about pain and guilt and grief. It was a strangely pleasant acknowledgement of Orpheus’ importance.
[color= #14a3c7] “And I resent myself for it. I swear to you that from now on, I will be here and I will never abandon you like that again. I just pray that you will allow me the opportunity to prove to you that I am serious.” [/color] Finch’s words rang through Orpheus’ mind. This was all he had ever wanted to hear. For years he had dreamed of Finch standing before him again, an apology, a reunion.
So why was there still that strange lingering emotion? That one feeling Orpheus could not quite place. A feeling that seemed to be a complex mix of pain, desire, fear, and longing. Nearly the same feeling that had arisen in him as he looked to Ilyas.
[color= #14a3c7] “I miss you too…” [/color] Finch breathed. Orpheus had looked up to see tear streaks down Finch’s face despite his attempts to wipe them away.
There was a gentleness to him now, one Orpheus had never seen before. Finch had always seemed so large to Orpheus as a child, a powerful and untouchable man who Orpheus wanted to imitate and make proud.
Yet, as he stood here now, he did not seem so grand. He was a man. Again, like most, fragile, confused, attempting to right his wrongs. Orpheus had gained 4 inches in height since their last meeting, now standing over Finch in a strange shift in roles. Orpheus felt a protective instinct rise within him as he looked to Finch, a man whose love and affection he had longed for for so long.
The glow from the morning had shifted from floor to wall as the sun moved, casting that sunlight directly behind Finch now, the gentle glow creating a radiant halo around his figure. The sunlight painted his contours in hues of amber, creating an ethereal shine that seemed to highlight the quiet strength in his features.
Orpheus found himself moving closer, placing his bandaged hand against Finch’s cheek.
The warmth of Finch’s skin filled Orpheus’ palm, an unspoken assurance passed between them, a knowing repair. The imprint of heat sending chills through the rest of Orpheus’ body, every part that ached to reach the same warmth and connection as his hand had.
The quiet simplicity of a caress held a lifetime of pain and genuine love, a forgiveness, and again, it lingered, that persistent and continuing desire.
mentioned:
Finch (@Caticorn)
Ilyas (@Madilfill) barely lol