Legacy // H.S

23.

He looks over to me with a smile. 'See, in Tír na nÓg, time moved much slower. He had all these wonderful gifts, but he never felt the effect of time. But once he realised what had happened, he fell to the ground in a fit of tears, and immediately turned into an old man. He was left to grieve the loss of his family, and ultimately the loss of his love, because as a mortal he could never return again. I chose that tale, because it reminds me that while riches and notoriety are wonderful, sometimes they can cloud our vision and fog what really matters.'

Hardly the story I expected to come from Niall, not when he is the most material one of us all. Constantly gloating about all he's stolen over the years, lapping up every ounce of attention others give to him. He holds onto his youth and good looks like a baby does their favourite toy, refusing to give them up. Yet, he feels the limits of all this too.

He knows that wealth and glory are temporary, and he understands that they will never be able to shield his heart the way family can. It's an odd perspective to hear from him when it goes against the image he's painted for himself in the eyes of others, but just like an artist, he's added more strokes to the canvas and created an entirely new composition. A man with many sides.

Claude smirks into the rear-view mirror as I catch his eye. 'But did you think of that when you were intoxicated?'

Niall laughs at this, looking into the mirror too. 'All I was thinking about was if Babz and Zayn would have a threesome with me, mate!'

I shove his shoulder as he turns off the A12, ready to take the main road that leads onto the Suffolk coast. 'You're such a bullshitter, Niall. Had me believing every word.'

His shoulders bounce with a laugh, Claude joining in behind. 'Look, it's an actual piece of Irish mythology, and it was something I'd always wanted to get, I just didn't realise it on the night in question.'

Claude unbuckles his seatbelt, stretching his legs out over the back seats and laying back with a sigh. I had intended to sit back there at first, assuming Claude wanted to drive or be in control of the maps, but he pushed me away before I could even reach the door and said he liked the solitude of a backseat.

He gets himself comfortable, yawning in between his shuffling, then prepares himself to speak. 'I've never understood the appeal of tattoos. They fade and sag with ageing skin.'

I turn to him, noticing his closed eyes. 'I thought you didn't age, Claude?'

He cracks one eye open to look at me, a smug grin on his lips. 'I don't, but I also value my beauty.'

Niall hits a hand against the steering wheel in glee. 'Beauty and the fucking Beast, all wrapped up into one person.'

In an instant, Claude grabs some rubbish from the floor of Niall's car, throwing it towards his head. I have to stop the impact and offer some warnings to the both of them, reminding them that we are in fact on country roads and will probably die if they keep it up, but they still continue. Playful back and forth, as if we're not all hurting inside.

'Just you wait, little man, you will grow older, and you'll be wishing you looked as good as I do,' Claude quips. 'It's not about the gift of eternal beauty and youth that your stories speak of. It's about having a good skincare routine, and not letting the stress of imbeciles like you stretch my skin into frown lines and wrinkles.'

I turn to face him again, squinting my eyes as I point to his forehead. 'What's that right there? That line on his forehead, you see it too, Niall?' I tease.

Claude's fingers delicately touch the skin on his head, frowning ever so slightly. 'C'est pas vrai!'

'Stop frowning, Claude, it will only make it worse,' Niall adds, laughing as he turns down another road, the one directly leading to Aldeburgh.