Joseph's POV
(Warning expletives ans graphic violence)
White was always about rationality and talking things out and it sickened Joseph. How could he possibly tell him to hold himself back when he'd been used so easily. Joseph understood that White didn't actually know his situation but surely he could see from his state that he couldn't just calm down.
Joseph had been betrayed, outrightly. It made too much sense that Aesop needed him to get his win rate up, he wanted to get out. God, it was so obvious! How get Joseph let himself be fooled like that?
On the other hand Joseph was so hurt. So in pain that it pulsed in his chest and dropped heavy stones of misery into his legs which his anger used as momentum to surge forward.
He loved Aesop.
He still loved Aesop.
And a small part of him was desperately scrambling trying to find a small glint of hope in any of the evidence. In darkness, even a dim light was hope. He needed him. This couldn't have been Aesop's fault. He could've been manipulated, blackmailed or threatened into doing this.
It was the seer. Aesop was different. Aesop made Joseph's chest well up with floods of love and content. Aesop couldn't have faked those smiles. Aesop wouldn't have removed his mask, his protection from being close to anyone, just to fool Joseph.
The hallway in between the two wings was dusty and dimly lit but Joseph felt like all his senses were heightened. He could see the sprawled chairs and the cracked tableware. He could feel his breath, hot and forceful, blowing out through his nose like bull.
He grabbed the door to the survivor's wing and swung it back. It crashed against the wall and rebounded but Joseph had already stormed through, the tip of his sword dragging along the floor behind him.
A few survivors were in the middle room, talking but they were rendered speechless as Joseph made his way to the centre of the atrium and looked around with eyes filled with blue eyes that resembled a penetrating fire with the way they flickered with anger. The survivors hadn't moved a muscle since Joseph had burst in. They were frozen in both fear and shock but all their eyes were glued on him and the sheer amount of rage concentrated on his face.
"Where is he?!" Joseph bellowed, thrusting his sword into the stair banister, carving a chunk out of the dark wood. No one answered him, the survivors were rigid as corpses.
Eli's POV
Eli had heard the general murmur of conversation had cut off like a record stopping. Then a foreign yell and an angry yell at that. Aesop sat bolt upright when he heard the voice. Which was a suspicious reaction. Normally Aesop would've remained relatively indifferent to disagreements that were not his own.
Eli eased the embalmer back to laying down in his bed, convincing him that he was still tired from last night and telling Aesop to wait in his room whilst he went to check on everything.
A foolish mistake but Eli was ignorant.
He tapped down the hallway to the top of the stairs,
"What's going..." Eli's voice failed him as he looked down at the seething photographer.
Joseph head flicked to focus on him and burned into the seer's skin,
"You..." Joseph's murmured like the calm before the storm "You fucking bastard!" He yelled, his voice booming like a shock wave and echoing throughout the silent room.
Eli was trying to play the hero, acting 'brave' as he called it but anyone on the outside could see he was being careless. He knew what the photographer was here for and Eli's ego was ballooning, smudging a smug smirk across his lips,
"What? You can't seriously be mad that he left you for me. You're a psycho that abused him into 'loving' you and then you took advantage of him. He needs someone who can really be there for him without having the mind of a killer. He's better off this way, so piss off." Eli said smoothly as if Joseph's aura wasn't giving off waves of bloodlust.
Joseph's POV
Whilst Eli was making his arrogant speech, Joseph thought he could literally feel his blood boiling. He finally understood the meaning of 'seeing red'. Joseph was never truly angry at Aesop, he could never hurt him even if the embalmer held a knife at his back. It was the seer, he was the one who orchestrated this whole scheme and stole Aesop away from him.
And his accusations of abusing Aesop made him tremble in rage. How dare he.
The embalmer and photographer had a rocky relationship, there was no mistaking that. Their scripts told them to hate each other, to fear and to be feared. They had all odds against them and yet they managed to procure such a deep, genuine trust for each other that eventually evolved into something intimate and special. Joseph remembered all those nights staring out his window at the stars whilst Aesop breathed softly on his chest in slumber. How it felt to comb his fingers through his grey hair that flicked silver in the moonlight. How it felt to have the warmth of Aesop's mouth on his and how the kisses could heat up in an instant when they silently agreed to.
Joseph refused to believe that those moments were fake. There was no actor on earth that could become so deeply invested into a role. Aesop was new to romance and had trusted Joseph all his firsts. It showed too, Aesop was so clunky and awkward when they first started to get physical and he was so embarrassed and flustered when they became more intimate. His voice was so raw and unpolished like he'd never used it in his life.
No one could fake that. Joseph believed, no matter what, their love was real. The seer had tried to create this plan that had failed and now Joseph had to dispose of the eyesore that caused it all.
Joseph lunged up the stairs, grabbing Eli by the neck of his robes and yanking him down the stairs. Eli fell face first as ungracefully as you'd imagine. He groaned at the bottom of the stairs as blood dripped from his nose and painted his lips red. The other survivors still had nothing to say, the initial shock had gone but a new wave had engulfed them, a tidal wave of shock. Joseph was no where near finished with the seer yet.
He slowly walked down the stairs, his footsteps stomping on each panel and resonating throughout the hall. Eli was still groaning and sputtering at the bottom, trying to gauge what just happened as he wiped the blood from his broken nose and got himself to his feet. Joseph had the common decency left in him to not hit someone while they were down, for now at least.
Eli threw a messy swing at Joseph that was simply avoided and returned by the photographer. A heavy swing up into the seer's stomach that left him gasping and sputtering for air. Eli stumbled back, his eye covering fell off and he stared up at the photographer with deep blue eyes filled up tears.
Joseph could not believe the cockiness of the boy had vanished so quickly, replaced with such a pitiful expression. Eli was practically begging for mercy with his trembling and whimpering. How dare he play the victim now. Joseph landed another hit on his jaw that sent Eli to the floor. He knelt on his chest and stared down at him like a predator about to devour. A sadistic smile spread across his lips as he landed another punch, and another, and another. It felt so good feeling his fist collide with the soft flesh and then solid bone. And to keep going until he felt warm liquid on his knuckles.
Eli was barely clinging onto consciousness when a survivor sprang up from the table. The few seconds the encounter took was enough for Joseph to do the damage he intended but now he couldn't stop himself. He needed the scum to stop squirming before he'd feel anywhere near satisfied. Joseph didn't know the name of the survivor that was charging toward him but he knew it was damn annoying when he crashed into him head on; so he tightened his sword and swung a wide arc, protecting his unguarded side. It was too high to hit anyone but it made the survivor back off a bit. It was clear Joseph was still hostile as a feral dog and going near him would cause more damage than it saved.
Aesop's POV
Aesop thought he was delusional for thinking Joseph had come to their side. That's what made him agree with Eli that he was overtired. It was probably just some squabble between the older survivors about having to chip in with chores again. Even so, yells that sounded even more like Joseph rang through his ears. It couldn't be him. He probably just missed Joseph and felt guilty for getting too cuddly with Eli in the night. In his defence, Eli was on edge and there could've been worse outcomes. It was strange waking up to his best friend and the new revaluation that said best friend was in love with him. Aesop was quick to leave Eli when he woke up, feeling weird and prickly. The night before wasn't a dream and Aesop was still coming to terms with it all, he certainly didn't let Eli touch him as much as he did before now he knew his feelings. Eli's touch would never measure up to Joseph's warm embrace anyway.
Aesop didn't feel the same and he didn't want to lead the seer on even if it damaged their friendship.
Still, curiosity got the best of Aesop when only small, quiet, animal like whimpers just about sneaked through his bedroom door. He slowly plopped out of bed and descended down the stairs from his isolated bedroom and peered over the atrium.
The sight in front of him felt like another dream. Joseph pinning Eli to the ground (who was beaten bloody and blue at this point) and thrusting his sword out to any survivors that tried to intervene whilst still landing hits on Eli.
A wave of heat overcame Aesop, a sickening and torn feeling of not knowing what to do. His voice felt blocked off in his throat and he grabbed the banister, squeezing it until his knuckles turned white. Aesop was able to let out a cry that resembled Joseph's name as he started dashing for the stairs. This seemed to surprise Joseph and his momentum paused, just for a moment.
That was all it took for Aesop to grab him from behind and start yanking him away crying,
"What are you doing?!" In his ear.
Joesph struggled against his grip and tried to pull away from the familiar hands around his chest. Eli has passed out either from a good strike or the pain but Joseph still wasn't satisfied, he didn't like the way the roach was still breathing,
"Yes, defend your new toy!" He snarled, "You throw me away like nothing for this weak fuck?!"
Aesop's grip didn't waver but the confusion could be heard in his voice, "What the hell are you talking about?! Eli and I aren't together, I love you!" He yelped, trying to defuse the situation before it got worse.
Joseph faltered. He looked back at Aesop and finally stopped struggling to get back to putting dents in the seer,
"What?" He whispered, his voice suddenly hoarse and crackly from all the shouting.
At the table, Emily was pale as a sheet and gripping the table. She knew she had caused this by talking about it. She also knew that if she didn't help Eli soon, he would most definitely die from his wounds. William took the chance of Aesop grabbing the photographer to drag Eli out of there where Emily got to work.
Aesop furrowed his brow, making the frightened tears in his eyes well up even more than they were before,
"Did you think I would lie to you all this time. Who ever told you that I was with Eli?"
Joseph opened his mouth to answer but he was interrupted by Martha aiming her gun square at Joseph's chest,
"What the fuck is going on Aesop?" She mumbled, her hands shaking as she aimed her gun.
Aesop quickly crouched in front of Joseph, guarding him,
"Put that away." He commanded but his voice was trembling and he was barely staying upright.
Aesop was terrified. Everything was ruined and because of a false rumour at that. Aesop's sweet hours with Joseph in the middle of the nights would probably never happen again. Would they kill Joseph? Would they kill him? He had no idea. But he sure as hell wasn't going to just let the one happiness in his life go out without defending him.
Martha lowered her gun but didn't put it away, still on edge but willing to let Aesop talk. The embalmer slowly exhaled as he saw Emily tending to Eli,
"He'll be fine. I'll explain this later." Aesop murmured before grabbing Joseph's hand and bolting for the stairs to his room. He heard the yells of the of survivors but Martha didn't shoot. Aesop supposed that some part of her knew he wouldn't talk in that state and that mercy may have saved Joseph his life.
Joseph helped barricade the door in Aesop's bedroom with any furniture that was convient and they both sat on Aesop's springy bed, a breath of relief as the adrenaline faded from their systems.
Aesop turned to Joseph, looked him dead in the eye and slapped me sharply across his cheek. Joseph froze in shock for a few seconds before lowering his head,
"I know. I thought you had used me for your gain. I thought you didn't love me, how could you expect me not to do anything?"
They clearly had a lot to talk about.