I'll Burn With You (MXM)

Chapter 10 : Benjamin

He moved the letters. The moment he was able to compose himself enough for panic to take over, Ben moved every single letter into the vacant, dusty space underneath the staircase of the house, seldom used for anything other than winterwear and steamer trunk storage. He had considered moving them into a hole in the walls of the general store's storeroom, its access hidden by a collection of jam jars and shadows, only rejected when he discovered mice nibbling on the letter's edges.

Ben did not eat that night. The next night, he did not eat, either. No one noticed, too wrapped up in an ongoing argument between Beatrice and Mrs. Price concerning the education between herself and the other boys in her class. He watched his brother eat, wondering if he had just broken the floorboard before Ben entered, whether he had time to investigate the letters thoroughly. He could not consider the idea that he had read them. An invasion of privacy that great would be too much for him.

He glanced away, nudging the vegetables on his plate. His father scolded him for "not bein' grateful fer the meal."

This dance of observation continued for another two days, mind and stomach upset with anxiety through the nights before he finally read Miss Byrd's letter, breath taken by the continuously beautiful penmanship; he could not focus. The light, filtered with suspended dust, was dull and hard on the eyes, so he merely gave up on trying, opting to wait for everyone to retire first. The letter's pages seemed to burn warm against his fingers, a great miasmic cloud laboring his breaths. Ben feared Miss Byrd would grow impatient, angry with him, for making her wait any longer than she had to.

Still he could not bring himself to read it.

For the first time in his life, Ben dreamed of burning alive.

A clear moonless night made it all the more difficult for Ben to settle to sleep. He lied beside his brother, Douglas sleeping loudly in the next bed over, his mind rampant with wondering. Ben tried distracting himself with the church bells ringing from the Novak wedding earlier that day, the smell of breakfast foods wafting from the bride's home, the upbeat music that tumbled from the opened windows. How the guests regarded him with side-glances and contempt that burned the back of his head, yet this was not enough.

Ben sat up, eyes fixed to the darkness outside, before turning over. He shook his brother, the mattress sagging, trembling, under each movement. "Theo," he whispered, shuddering every time the springs groaned underneath him. "Theo."

Theodore groaned, propping himself up on his elbows. Eyes unopened, he moaned, "Whaat?"

Ben shushed him. "Theo, I-I need t' ask you somethin'."

Sitting up, Theodore yawned, curling into himself with a breath, his muscles tensing. Smacking his lips, he rubbed his eyes, finally opening them. Humming, he asked, "What, mm, what is it."

"I need t' ask you somethin'."

"Is it important?"

"...yes."

Theodore rolled forwards, groaning into his hands. "Okay." The single word mumbled in his mouth. He took in another slow breath again. "What is it?"

"I jus – it'll give me peace of mind," he started, trailing off.

"...Ben, that doesn't answer anythin'," he whispered, voice hoarse. He cleared his throat.

Ben groaned. "Please don't make me say it."

"I'm goin' back to bed," he moaned, rolling back onto his side.

"Did you find them?" Ben asked quickly.