𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐎𝐘 , finn shelby

vi. morning talks

˗ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗 ˗
❝ i like... poetry. ❞

PRINCE ALEXANDER'S drunken words hadn't escaped his sober mind. From the moment he woke up, with his head resting comfortably on Finn's lap, he felt himself cringe as he recalled all the things he had said. But it wasn't just embarrassment he felt. He felt fear. He felt regret. He felt anxious. And most of all, he felt exposed. He had said so much to a woman he hardly knew, and to Finn. He didn't know who they would tell, and the mere thought of anyone finding out is what sent him flying towards the bathroom, heaving out the contents of his stomach. Which was mostly alcohol - a mix of gin and whisky. So many terrible decisions, Alexander scolded.

Slumping down onto the floor, Alexander let the tears roll down his cheeks. His shoulders shook as he gripped his hair, closing his eyes as if when he would open them, all he had said would be erased. But he knew that wouldn't work. It was already too late.

   "My medication," Alexander heaved out to himself, more concerns beginning to arise as his worry got the better of him. "My medication."

   "What medication?" Alexander nearly jumped out of his skin, letting out a yelp as he clutched his chest. It was Finn, standing at the door of the bathroom. His hair was ruffled and untidy, wearing a vest along with trousers with the suspender braces pulled up.

   "Where's Theodore?" Alexander asked, ignoring Finn's question.

   "He's gone out to get your things, we left it at the shop yesterday, remember? And Polly is dropping Laurie here later," Finn explained, walking further despite Alexander refusing to look at him. "What medication? Are you sick?"

   "No," Alexander quipped, before sighing at his somewhat harsh tone. He never liked to call himself sick. He had an illness, but he didn't like to call himself sick. It only made him begin to think of his epilepsy as a hindrance, a barrier. He would ignore it altogether if it didn't affect his life as much as it did. Also, he didn't like to discuss the details of his illness, even though it had been made public after the death of his twin. "Sorry, I just..."

   "Is this because of yesterday? You being... you know," Finn says. Some part of Alexander had hoped the Shelby boy had forgotten everything he had said, lost in a drunken haze and absent in sobriety. But he didn't have such luck. "Alex?"

   "I was just drunk, it didn't mean anything," Alex tried to reason, almost trying to convince himself of the fact. His hand came up to run through his golden-brown hair, the loose curls weaving through his fingers.

   "Is that so?" Finn asked, sounding unconvinced. Alex glanced over at the young man, and Finn could see even from a metre away how Alex's eyes glistened. He was on the verge of tears.

   "I'll leave, if you want. I can call up the chauffeur and go home. Just please promise to never to speak of this-"

   "No, no, you don't need to do that," Finn reassured quickly, lowering himself down so that he was crouching down in front of Alex, now at eye level. "I don't... I don't really give a shit who you like. If they're a bird or a bloke. It was just a surprise, that's all."

Alexander's stomach felt like it was twisting, purely out of nerves. He didn't know how to react. He didn't know if he should just go home regardless of Finn being okay with his presence, not sure if he was comfortable staying in Birmingham any longer. But he pushed down his concerns, standing up with the help of Finn, despite insisting he was okay.

   "Is she still here?" Alexander asked, referring to Bernadette. Finn nodded, and Alexander left the bathroom without another word.

Just like Finn had said, Bernadette was in the spare room. She was awake, putting on her shoes as she prepared to leave. Glancing up at the sound of Alexander entering the room, she smiled kindly.