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Qifrey wouldn’t consider himself a good man. He had been hurt before and had returned that hurt tenfold. His list of sins was long and tortuous, but Qifrey tended to ignore them. Sometimes, if he felt too much agony, he would drown on it. Besides, there was no need to dwell on most of those sins. He could spend a lifetime atoning for them.
But for all the sins he had committed, those against Olruggio must be the worst of all. Olruggio, that kind man. Qifrey sometimes wondered if to spare his old friend. Suspended in that weird third place, between love and rejection, Qifrey was hurting him. But Qifrey knew it would be impossible. That care was a warm etched into Qifrey’s own being. Maybe he would be more lucky ripping his own marrow.
Olruggio tended to attract admiration because of this warm. A bit harsh at first meeting, he was a very fine man. Beautiful beyond comparison. Many admirers surrounded Olruggio, sometimes a little a bit too much. One of the first times it happened it had been during a business trip. Qifrey had been talking with an acquaintance. That conversation had gone for a while, so Qifrey had returned at the tavern well into the night. Olruggio was there, surrounded by admirers.
Qifrey stood at the door of the tavern. The golden light of the candles danced along Olruggio’s skin. When this light got caught on his eyes, Qifrey felt his throat constrict in a painful way. Someone touched Olruggio’s arm. A contact that stayed a minute too long. Qifrey’s throat constricted, a feeling threatening to choke him.
A couple of steps later, Qifrey reduced the distance between him and his radiant star. Qifrey called out. Olruggio turned almost instantly. His face softened, the sharp lines of tiredness seemed to cease. The other person looked at Qifrey, and the white-haired witch returned their gaze. Whatever they saw, it was enough to make them put away their hand. Qifrey softened his own demeanor. Olruggio was unaware, asking Qifrey to drink something. Qifrey declined, remembering his own troubles, curling under his skin. The children were waiting. And besides, Qifrey had already secured what he wanted. A vague sense of shame curled over his chest.
It was the only way Qifrey could sleep that night.