stupid me, thought I could trust you
Dance #4: Conversation with Finch Ridlington ~ending~ Dance w/ Adeline DeLaney ~beginning~
The tumultuous swirl of pain and torment pulled Orpheus back down into an anger he had not felt in over a year. A strange sort of twisted hatred that he had locked away in the deepest recesses of his mind. One that turned him into a person he hated. Orpheus fought back to urge to lash out, to unleash the years of built up resentment in the public view. He had had enough for tonight.
He bit back the tears in his eyes as he listened to Finch speak, only turning to face him as he finished.
“…I avoided you afterwards because I did not know what I would say.” Finch said. He spoke of caring for Orpheus as if that held any weight now. As if saying he cared meant anything to Orpheus.
Many people had told Orpheus they cared, and like Finch, many people had lied.
“How about an apology?” Orpheus’ voice was barely a whisper, his eyes welling with tears as he turned to look at Finch, standing up taller in front of him. “I deserved one! An explanation! Years ago!” Orpheus yelled in broken sentences, his chest heaving against the silent sobs as the tears fell from his eyes and dripped down his already ruined gold coat.
“I deserve your anger and I won’t beg for your forgiveness because heaven knows I don’t deserve that but it pains me to see you like this.” Orpheus nearly laughed again as Finch spoke.
“It pains you?” Orpheus’ smile was twisted and dripping with every ounce of resentment he held. “You?” Orpheus breathed, leaning against the railing for support.
“You know nothing of pain, Lord Ridlington, especially mine, as you were so keen on avoiding it!” Orpheus spat, his eyes burning with the fiery anger of every day left alone.
“Aurelia left me…and you were not there.” Orpheus began to hyperventilate as he recalled every aspect of the past year that had weighed him down.
“My brother died…” Orpheus could barely form the words on his lips. His face melted into that of a child, his features twisting into a pained vulnerability. “And you were not there…” He breathed, his sobs growing with each labored breath. It was as if a weight sat on his chest, preventing him from taking full breaths, leaving him gasping between words.
“You promised you would be there…” Orpheus sat back against the railing again, attempting to shake his head clear of the anguish that was eating at him, threatening to tear him apart.
The weight of his grief was like anchor tied to his very being, threatening to pull him back into the depths of despair he had barely pulled himself out of time and time again. The world around him spun in a drunken haze despite his sobriety creeping up on him slowly, pain becoming his new inhibitor, as he gripped the railing tightly to keep himself from falling from the weight of it all.
Orpheus attempted to steady himself, determined not to allow his mind to rip him back into the darkest of places, determined not to fall apart at the seams of his tear-stained, gold coat. Orpheus stood, the world still spinning, the noise of the ballroom still deafening, yet he faced Finch not as a Duke, or even as a man, but as a boy. A broken boy whose naive heart had been beaten time after time. A lost boy whose only real brother stood before him now asking for forgiveness. A lonely boy whose heart yearned for the love he had once known within his gentle embrace.
“I trusted you…” Orpheus breathed, his eyes baring into Finch’s, begging for a release.
The weight of those words carried the pain Orpheus had longed to let go of. The confusion of that night and everything that it entailed tumbling out of his chest in a rush of actualization.
Because it was simple.
As he had done before, Orpheus had given Finch everything. Every ounce of love. Every breath of devotion. Every piece of trust he had left.
Orpheus gave it happily.
And it was tossed aside.
In this moment, now, Orpheus had nothing else to give except his pain.
The final gentle tears fell from Orpheus’ eyes as he looked on at Finch, deciding it was time to leave the balcony. If he stayed longer, Orpheus feared he might allow Finch to reach past the pain and back into his hollow chest. That he might run to him the way had countless times before. That he might forgive him.
And that was the last thing Orpheus wanted to do.
Orpheus pushed past Finch, slowly wandering back through the ballroom doors. His eyes were glazed over with tears, and the blur of faces and lights were disorienting to no end.
Orpheus made his way to the powder room and for the first time in years…he looked at himself in the mirror.
Orpheus had avoided his own reflection. Ever since Aurelia left and his brother passed, Orpheus could not bring himself to face his reflection. His eyes that mirrored his dead brothers, his lips that once sung the sweetest of songs to his lost love, the cheeks that she caressed so carefully…he could not stand the memories etched into every feature his face held. Each crease and line holding years of time he would never get back, all tainted a dark shade of black.
Now, for the first time in over a year, Orpheus stared at himself. His eyes were a dark, bloodshot red, his skin pale and cold to the touch from sitting in the night air for far too long, his mouth turned into a shockingly deep frown.
He did not recognize himself.
How strange it was to glance at a reflection and not see your own.
To see the outline of the man you did not want to meet, the man you despise more than anyone else, the man you have become.
Orpheus attempted to pull himself together, splashing water on his face, pinching a soft pink hue back into his cheeks, and straightening his attire. His eyes still darkened from hours of crying, yet the rest of him became surprisingly normal. The tears on his coat dried. The streaks down his face were gone. His hair was now pulled back into the smooth waves it had sat in before the events of the night unfurled it.
He looked more like himself.
At least…the parts of himself he recognized.
But there were still those eyes, dark, angry, half-filled with tears, reddened from the sobs, and mocking him. They echoed his brother’s eyes so perfectly he almost let out a small scream as he glanced back at himself.
Orpheus turned away, shutting his eyes from the image, desiring nothing more than to rip them from his skull.
Evil eyes. Hateful eyes.
Orpheus took a calming breath.
The night was not over, and he still had an image to attempt to repair. After everything, Orpheus felt empty, lifeless. He was far more put together on the outside, but he felt nothing as he moved through the ballroom this time. He was not inspired by the beautiful women, nor in awe of the music the orchestra played, and the splendor of the decor was lost to him now.
He had given everything away.
As he always had.
And there was nothing left of him.
Not anymore.
Orpheus slowly made his way to Adeline, the shame of his drunken earlier interaction heating his cheeks into a faint blush.
“Adie, you must allow me to apologize…” Orpheus started, biting back more tears. He would not cry again. Not tonight.
“I should have composed myself better in your presence. Tonight has just been…more than I anticipated in the most unimaginable of ways.” Orpheus extended a hand to her, gesturing for a dance.
“Forgive me?” He asked, a small smile on his lips as he looked to her.
He had been grateful for Adeline. For she, of all people, had never let him stray too far. She chastised him like his mother, supported him like the best of friends, and held his hand like a childhood love when he needed it most.
She had been there.
And of everyone who had wronged him in life, she had never been one.
She was stable.
She was kind.
She was all he had left.
mentioned:
Finch (@Caticorn)
Aurelia (@benitz786)
Adeline (@sunflowerjm)
