Warnings: this is a tragedy, so get ready to be sad. This story contains homophobia in it (no slurs though) and some cursing. Other than that, you're good! Hope you like it, salties! >~<
A dark skinned boy glared at the still, bright stars dotted on the large stretch of black sky. At least, that's what he THOUGHT it was, but he could never be sure. There was always something strange about this place. Maybe it was the fact that everywhere he looked, whether behind, in front, below, above, there was always the familiar and endless stretch of... whatever it was. Maybe it was the strange feeling of floating, yet at the same time having your feet planted on the ground. As if your head was up, up, up (wherever up was, in this place), yet your shoes still stayed in contact with the.... floor? Sky? It was something that would be confusing to any average person. And to the not-so-average, as Aaron was far from normal.
Aaron continued to stare, eyebrows furrowed, frustration reaching every limb in his body, at the blank spot in front of him. A sense of anticipation was crawling under his skin, waiting, for what? He couldn't remember. Or rather, he knew but couldn't quite put his finger on it.
His feet tapped impatiently on the... expanse below him, the anxiety of not doing anything for what seemed like forever (and maybe it was?) rushing in his veins.
Maybe time DIDNT exist in the place. Or was this a place? Was this everywhere, or was it nowhere? Was he alive, was he dead? Who knew. Certainly not the now-almost-shaking-from-aggravation boy, still glaring at the one spot as he waited, and waited, and waited.
"Dammit!" the boy finally yelled, throwing his hands up, glaring at the blackness. "What is it I'm waiting for! Why am I here?! Why can't this just be over with so I can—"
"Aaron. Turn the fuck around, you lunatic."
A strange feeling was then aroused in Aaron. A feeling of recognition, yet complete unfamiliarity. Of love, of hate. Of confusion, yet complete understanding.
He turned around, slowly, to face what appeared to be another boy. This one had his arms crossed, a smirk lifting up one corner of his lips. His hair was reaching almost to his shoulders, accompanied with a light brown color that made his bright-green eyes and milk-white skin pop. He had a very sharp jaw-line; it made him look both extremely handsome and extraordinarily beautiful at the same time. His lips were almost red, and his snarky and slightly annoyed look almost made him all the more satisfying to the eyes.
"....Mason. Sorry, I forgot what I was doing," Aaron said blankly, blinking a few times when he suddenly remembered, he DID know this boy, but from where?
Mason laughed, a shrill sound that cut through the silence, filling a sudden feeling of... something, inside Aaron's heart.
"You NEVER know what you're doing," the pale boy replied, and for a moment, Aaron swore he saw an emotion cross the boys face, almost like... sadness. But no, that couldn't be right, for when he blinked, the smirk was back, and his arms were still crossed.
"What... where am I? I feel like I should know, but..." Aaron started, fidgeting nervously.
Mason's smirk grew wider, and he suddenly stepped forward, making Aaron flinch away.
"Looks like I have to explain, agai—" Mason stooped, studying Aaron's face. "Looks like I have to explain," he quickly corrected himself.
The dark skinned boy's eyebrows raised. "Again?"
"No, no, you must have heard me wrong." There it was again, that almost pained expression, quickly being guarded as soon as it appeared.
"Well... get on with it then, what do you have to explain?"
Mason narrowed his eyes temporarily, as if in deep thought, before he plopped down on the... ground? He pointed to the area across from himself, gesturing for Aaron to sit. He did.
"Well, it all started on a cold, dark night—"
"Wait, is this the beginning?" Aaron interrupted, looking alarmed. "Why are you starting so soon in the story, why are you narrating it like that—"
Mason gnawed his teeth together. "Will you shut your damn mouth for one second," he finally snapped, when his frustration of the story he was about to tell shone through, and Aaron's lips instantly pressed together. "AS I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted... it was a cold, dark night, and the only thing you could hear was the tap-tap-tapping of rain on the windows, and the smells of a delicious dinner being cooked downstairs..."
~~~~~
Aaron was seated at the windowsill of a tall tower, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared out the window, raindrops slowly making their way down the cold glass. In perfect lines.
The sky was pure black, not even a star seen within the dark expanse of infinite clouds. It was always a dream of his to be an astronomer, the stars always fascinated him. Out there, what was up? What was down? What was existence; were you alive or dead? It was always the same questions circulating over and over in his head.
He sighed, slumping down with his elbow on the sill and his chin propped up in his hand.
He was waiting. Simply waiting. It was a curse he had become accustomed to, every single day, on a night like this, to wait and wait, anticipating arrival.
'When will those dam carriages get here?' Aaron thought to himself, aggravated. It was already probably passed midnight, and his... friend and his family had claimed to be here, as per usual, at the same time they did every weekend. Exactly at 12:00, right on the dot.
But his... friend, seemed to be elsewhere. Maybe it was the rain.
"Aaron!" A voice suddenly called out, and he shot up from his sloped over position.
"Yes, mother?!" He called, quickly standing up and almost tripping over himself.
"The Alder's will be here anytime soon, be ready to greet them!"
Aaron's eyebrows furrowed once again. What does she mean, soon? He couldn't even see the torch lights yet; maybe she was mistaken. Shaking his head, he quickly strode to to his door, opening it and taking two steps at a time to reach the bottom of the staircase.
"I'm here, mother," Aaron said politely as he poked his head around the wall. Their house was rather small, so it was quite easy to see his mother in the kitchen. Next to it was a quaint living room, holding all the essentials: a small dining table, a bookshelf, and a sitting area. A vase was placed neatly right in the center of the round table.
"Aaron, thank goodness, I was afraid you were stargazing again," his mother scolded, though he could see the teasing light in her eyes. He had told her almost everything... well, except maybe ONE thing. His deepest secret. The secret that only one other person knew, and hopefully, the one that no one else will ever find out.
"Of course not, mother, what stars are in the sky tonight to even look at?"
"You would find a way, you always do."
Aaron's mother was a small woman, her skin chocolaty brown like her sons. She always had a bonnet strapped securely around her head, tucking almost all her hair away. Except for the few strands that escaped. Though her face was wrinkly, it was wrinkly in a good way. No, not wrinkles from age, but from the smile she always wore. Permanent lines now etched into her face near her eyes from when she had laughed and cried and smiled as her son grew older and older with each passing moment. Her hands were calloused from her cooking; after all, that's all she ever did. Cooking and baking and gardening and serving food, all day, every day. It was, after all, the only reason she and her son had made it all these years without being thrown out onto the street.
They were beyond lucky that some of the most powerful nobles in the town had managed to find their quaint little house, tucked away in the corners of Archville.
Well, rather, it was his closest friend that had found his house, and immediately alerted the rest of his family of the delicacies his mother prepared for the townspeople. Aaron would always thank his friend for that. Not that there was already enough to thank him for.
His mother glanced up at him, realizing he was deep in thought as she was stirring some kind of substance; maybe it was icing to go on the cake that was soon to be taken from the oven. "What is it, Aar?" She asked, her eyebrows raised, inquisitive as ever, looking genuinely intrigued by the prospect of knowing what was on her sons mind.
"Nothing, mother. Just thinking." Aaron bit his lip for a moment before continuing, "aren't they a bit late? I thought they always arrived on the dot?"
His mother chuckled. "Maybe they want to be fashionably late?" Aaron laughed along with her, though he was suddenly more worried as his thoughts went into over-drive.
"What if they got caught in the rain? What it someone hijacked their carriage? What if they don't like your food anymore? What if they—"
"My son," his mother muttered to herself, "always overthinking." She glanced up when he shut his mouth, his cheeks turning dark, and she winked at him. "They'll be here, no need to worry your sorry little butt."
"My butt's not 'little'..."
Just when she was about to give a teasing reply, there was a knock on the door. Oh god. Aaron must have been so preoccupied with worrying, he hadn't even thought about the act that they might actually be arriving.
Arron and his mother's head both snapped up immediately to stare at the large wooden door. This was it. Another week had passed, and they were back to the same weekend schedule. Time to impress.
Aaron cleared his throat, his hands lifting up to his collar to tidy it quickly, before he confidently (or as confidently as he could) strolled over and wrapped his fingers around the handle.
The nerves suddenly hit him full force, and his heart seemed to beat a hundred miles a second; he was going to see them again. His mother was going to please them, and they would pay his families wage for the week. And if they didn't impress, then they might as well be doomed.
That was what he told himself he was nervous about. That was what he claimed.
Only him and one other person really knew why his heart was beating so fast.
Aaron took a deep breath and pulled the door open.
In front of his face, a family of around six glared back at him. He gulped.
There was a man, tall, burly, towering over Aaron, his eyes green as emeralds. A petite woman stood next to him; her skin was pale and her hair was a light brown. These two were the parents. In the woman's arms, a small girl with similar features to her mother was sucking her thumb with a doll nestled in the crook of her elbow. Between the two oldest stood a man, in his young twenties, obviously trying to seem more grown up than he was with the stubble on his chin. A small boy, maybe the height of Aaron's lower leg, had his arms wrapped tightly around his fathers knees, looking nervous.
And then there was the boy behind them all.
His eyes were a bright green, his hair obviously trying to be grown out, the same color as his mothers. His jaw was sharp, and there was a smirk playing at his lips. He had managed to keep up the bored look, but Aaron could read him like a book. There was a glitter of excitement hidden in those deep, green eyes.
Aaron snapped his attention away from the beautiful boy when the father started talking gruffly, "smells wonderful. What are we having today?"
There was a flurry of sound behind Aaron as his mother rushed up, beaming as she joined her son at the doorway. "Good evening, or, should I say, good morning. It's lovely to see you, Alder Family. Please, come in and I will tell you all about today's menu."
His mother ushered them in as Aaron stepped aside, feeling as if he was dreaming. And it wasn't because of the tantalizing smell coming from the kitchen just a few steps away.
"Hannah, lovely to see you, you look beautiful as always. Sir Alder, what a pleasure it is to see you. And how LOVELY your children look today!" Arron's mother shook hands with various people, grinning from ear-to-ear. Even the serious Alder family wouldn't be able to stay grumpy for too long; it was only a few moments before they started to return hand-shakes and smile weakly.
The only one who was bold enough to step forward was the prettiest one.
Mason grinned, lips stretched almost as wide as Aaron's mother herself, as he stepped forward to greet her. "Good very-early morning to you too, Miss Pamson! Always lovely to see your beautiful face." Aaron's heart jumped a little at the sound of Mason's voice. It was so clear and handsome, and not too deep yet not too high. It always managed to pull at his soul, stirring something deep within him that he could barely describe.
Mother's smile turned even bigger, if possible. She returned his greeting with jut as much enthusiasm, and before any of the bystanders knew it, they were in a whole different world with their conversation. Aaron was almost glad when Mason's father cleared his throat. Mother immediately stopped, while Mason just pulled an annoyed face and shrank back to a corner in the room.
"Yes, of course, the meal! Why don't you strike up a lovely conversation while I make the finishing touches." Mother gestured to the small dining table; the one that only seated four. Plates, silverware, and napkins were already placed around the vase in the center of table.
Aaron smiled weakly as Sir Alder strode passed him, a disgruntled look on his face. Their three sons followed, along with their mother and her daughter.
Hannah sat at the table with her daughter in her lap, a look in her face that read "why am I here again?" Sir Alder sat opposite her, and then the oldest son claimed a seat between both his mother and father, leaving one free seat, for either the youngest son to claim or for the one-and-only Mason.
Except Mason was nowhere to be seen. Aaron glanced around, curious as to where he had run off to, when he saw the fleeting silhouette of the boy run up the steps that led right up to Aaron's room.
Aaron shot his head back to look at the table, where his mother was in the kitchen that was approximately five feet away, with no wall separating the rooms, and the youngest son had already claimed the seat opposite his oldest brother.
He was certain no one would notice his absence.
Quickly skittering up the staircase before anyone would notice, Aaron took three stairs at a time, the anticipation growing with each step. His breathing got faster, and his heart almost dropped to his feet.
After what seemed to be forever, Aaron stood before his wooden door, and the realization of what was about to happen hit him full force. It took him almost a minute to gather himself, and he was about to reach out to grab the handle when it was pulled open for him.
A/N
Hey salties! I'm republishing this in four parts now, so that's cool, I guess. A friendly reminder that I wrote this in 2020, so I might make some edits later.
Don't forget to vote for each chapter, it would help me a lot on my journey as a writer. Oh, and if you don't vote, then Aaron is gonna turn straight. We can't have that right before our big scene, now, can we? Oops, spoilers! You saw nothing 😉. Make sure to stay salty!