A Tender Kiss Could End A War 🕰️(MxM ›1840s)

||Fourty One||-›Adorior

"What say you, Julius? Were the people of Wellington arrogant? Is that why you speak as you do?" Wallace spoke in that usual tone he did; as though he did not care about anything when he cared about everything.

Cold air pricked the open pores of Julius' olive skin. "There were some good-natured people, quite agreeable ... I made a few friends." He thought of Rebekah and Ferguson, and then he thought of Reuben. "Some were not necessarily polite, but I began to care for them dearly."

Julius's heart squeezed achingly at the thought of Reuben, at the recollection of their quarrel back in Wellington. It was still odd how pleasure had turned into unbearable pain right after. Reuben's sad expression was etched into his memory even as he tried not to think about Reuben during his visit. He needed not to have undivided attention from his family. Guilt should not mar it.

Wallace hummed, simply nodding. He noticed Julius's mind had suddenly wandered somewhere out of their conversation, he could see it in the tenderness that had settled in his eyes. Of course, Wallace knew not to ask too many questions. He was never a chatty man anyways and after the death of Julius' sister, he knew words could barely comfort one who was inconsolable.

"I truly must stop my habit of smoking," Julius muttered, crushing the cigarette underneath his boot, "I know a fellow who wouldn't be pleased."

"I do not wield the power to have you retire your habit. I am pleased someone does."

"Firstly take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eyes," Julius recited.

Wallace pulled the cigarette from his lips and examined it. "Fair enough, my dear fellow, but you do not have to preach to me."

Julius chuckled wearily at the sass.

A small smile touched Wallace's lips. "We need a couple of acrobats, preferably some ginger-beers."

"When did you steal my role as the terrible influence in our friendship?" Julius quirked a brow, leaning more comfortably against the wall.

"It was about time," came the reply from Wallace, lifting his shoulders in a half shrug.

Julius listened in silence to Wallace's teasing, and soon Wallace joined him in silence.

"I do not know if I have already told you this but I would like to thank you for everything you have done for my family in my absence," Julius spoke slowly, throat catching in gratefulness and pathos.

"I am as much a brother to you as Arthur. You do not have to thank me for taking care of my family."

Julius smiled faintly, eyes wetting slightly. "I know."

The back door was suddenly pried open. Fanny only peered her head out to speak: "Come inside you two, the night is cold and dinner has been prepared."

~~~~~

Julius was crouched before the hearth. His mother had set the large pot aside. Julius crumpled newspapers and placed them between the firewood, he then added two more pieces of logs to stop the fire from dwindling and for it to flourish. He watched the paper curl into a black reddish snowlike ash.

In the centre of the shabby small room, Wallace and Arthur assisted with setting the table as Fanny dished out rye gruel for the white bread to be had.

"I will be on my way," Wallace informed, walking to the coat rack to take off his coat to put on.