To my Dearest Friend

By dyslectic_demigod

2.8K 465 2.1K

Out of mind out of sight? Is that something that's true, Yves hopes it's not. When his best friend moves away... More

Yves playlist
Acknowledgments
Foreword
intro
first letter
The characters
I miss you already
Pearls
Be happy for me
the rush of being known
Rain
Friday
Naivety
Absinthe
Opera
Another opera
Headache
Black and blue
You have to start somewhere
Dying
Why
Walk away
You know too much
Your dearest friend?
Perception
Still not sure
Dancing
My son
Reading
Fix it
An unlikely pair
Childhood
Roses
Stranger
Icarion
Dancing
Beauty
Numb
A letter that will never be sent
A crude decision
Memories
Lying
I'm sorry
dramatic, bland and tasteless
The parents
apologies and the dreadful past
Are you afraid
A glimpse into the beginning
My family
My other family
wishing, wondering and realizations
Paris
please be mad at me
why do you make me hate myself?
beautiful demise
We are friends, right?
doubters, lovers and sinners
My cyril and the last step
pretense, masks and silence
my beloved
Regret
Suffocating
My angel and my memories
Vienna and old friends
Another glimpse into our world
I don't understand
the grief of not understanding
My worries, guilt and prayer
How to forgive
A special treat for my readers
Part two of the treat
Katherina
oh so cold
my old friend
Are you a romantic
weighing down
imaginary
Arrival
A song and breathing
Giving up
Home again and a goodbye
Close the curtains
Ghosts of silence
the duty of silence
Was it ever easy?
Slippery faith
The courtyard heartbreak
you are stubborn
We meet again but we are not the same anymore
Harbouring hearts
the vows of an unintentional liar
not love, just care
How much?
Do we want to be in France?
a necklace of roses
My last letters
Epilogue
to my dearest readers

Cello

25 6 23
By dyslectic_demigod

Yves hasn't written to me in four days. which is very stange for him, I am worried about him but I'm also scared I said something wrong. Yves is the only living soul where I felt safe when I cried. Because as a men, you're not supposed to. Right? I smile, he would not just stop writing right? I put on my jacket. ile has invited me to play spme music at his home. He knows I play piano, I don't know which instrument he plays. I feel plagued by the thoughts about my Yves. It feels as if I have abandoned him. What have I done I should've known better. What if he does somethin his father disapproves of again? will he have a shoulder to cry on? I don't know, we have been the middle of each other's lives so many years, why does it just now feel weird not to have him? What is this feeling of longing. I miss him. I sigh.

I arrive at the Polignac residence. I ring the bell, Lady Grey open the door. 'Ah, you're here mister Courtenay.' I nod. 'We're all happy to have you here.' We walk into a room with multiple instruments Émile is talking with Christiane. I smile and Émile looks up. He smiles. 'You're here!' I nod. 'Lady grey plays violin, Christian plays harp and I play cello.' I feel my smile fade. Yves has always been a cello prodigy. But I seem to find my smile again in two second. I sit down at the piano, it's a beautiful one for sure. I sort softly touch the keys and look at the sheet musics. I trace my fingers across the keys before we start playing, Yves would always say I don't have to demolish the keys. He thought played too rough but he taught me to me to be more elegant as he said. We begin to play. it's beautiful, I can't deny that. but the cello is not the name. Yves made it sound so effortless. Yves made art with the cello, Émile plays it.

We're tidying up the room after our session. Lady grey and Christian had an important to attend to so Émile and I decided to take all of the work upon us. We're not talking a lot when he suddenly asks. 'Are you okay? you seem rather blue.' I smile and say 'I'm fine' He smiles and sits down. 'You don't have to lie, I recognise sadness when I see it.' I smile and nod. 'Well, you're not totally wrong, You know I told you about Yves?' He nods. 'Well, we write eachother every day, so I send him a letter and the most time I go without receiving one is two days. But haven't received one in four days.' 'And?' 'I'm worried. What if he's hurt?' he smiles 'Is it really that? or do you need his attention to prove to yourself that you are loved?' I stand up. 'I'm not here to analyse my emotions.' 'Really?' I chuckle but I'm offended, 'he's my whole life.' I respond 'I don't agree, you've been here without him and you're doing just fine. You're not the center of eachother universe, you're here, he's there. You chose to leave.' 'But I need him' I say. 'you really don't' he answers. "How do you know?' I ask while standing up but he grabs my arm and kisses me. I'm flabbergasted, he's kissing me. 'I'm sorry.' he says but this time I kiss him, and I will not regret it I vow to myself. 

I sit in the carriage. I regret it so much. It feels so different with him than with Yves, it's like I'm loving a shadow of Yves. What kind of twisted nightmare is this? It's so hard to trust your morals when you're doing an inheritly wrong thing. I kissed a man and have loved one. I don't know how I rationalise that. Yves always said if you don't twist your mind into shapes it's not hard to understand, I simply love you. I always adored it when he said it but it still felt like a sin, a forbidden fruit every time I looked into his loving eyes. How could I not love him? but how could I love him when I knew it was wrong? I had this constant battle of emotions and morals fighting inside and maybe it was easier to convince myself I didn't love him. So I could run away, so I could be normal. When will I be normal?

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