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"For that i apologize. it was a gut reaction." Charles leaned on the wall to support himself and folded his arms.
"People have been killed for less. I don't care that you don't care, I am trying to keep you alive." he sighed.
"And no one just gets up to use the bathroom at things like this. It Just doesn't happen!"
Cass scowls, crossing his arms and resting them on the banister, “Aren’t you the one who decides who gets killed around here?” He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth curling up ruefully.
“And whatever. I’m a sailor, not a nobleman. And you can’t force me to be one either. It’s not who I was raised to be, and it’s not what I want to be. So get used to it. Get used to someone telling you ‘no’, because you’re going to be hearing it a lot from me.”
Cass doesn’t look at Charles, keeping his back to the other man and watching the moonlight reflect off the distant water.
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(I am in love)
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"How about a deal?" Charles asks. "From now until a week after the wedding, you at least to pretend to enjoy yourself. And, at the end of it, I'll buy you a boat, stock it with a crew and supplies, and anything else you could need. Then you can go off and enjoy your 'sailor lifestyle' you want so much."
Charles tilted his head to clear the tiny black spots flooding his vison.
Cass scowls, “That does nothing for us. People would expect me to be here. Face it. You can’t get rid of me, and I’m stuck on land.” He swallows and shakes his head.
“Figure out how you’re going to deal with me around, because I’m not going to change just to make you happy. That’s not who I am.“ He keeps staring at the water.
He wondered what his life would be like, stuck on dry land all the time. He was used to being on land for a few days at a time, even a few weeks, but once it hit’s three or four weeks, Cass felt like he had to go back out. But having to wait longer intervals and be out for shorter times?
Cass wanted to yell at his parents all over again for this.
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Charles rolled his eyes. "Talk would die out by then and you would be free to leave." He wasn't sure it would, but they would find a way. Charles didn't think he could live with Cass for longer than that anyways. And he knew that they wouldn't make it more than two months.
"You don't have to pretend for ever, just while we are in public." His voice softened and grew shaky. "Please?"
Cass faces him, “I can’t. This stupid thing is forever, and it’s never going to end. So drop it Charles. Get used to having me around and in your fucking life.” He straightens and brushes past Charles.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I’m quite hungry, so I’m going to go eat.”
He walks away, back the way he had previously came and walking back into the formal dining room. He sits back down in his seat and picks his fork up, begging to eat. He could feel his mother’s stare and his father’s glare boring into him. He wanted them all to look away from him. He knew he was in trouble.
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“Now, if you don’t mind, I’m quite hungry, so I’m going to go eat.” Cass said as he left.
Charles swallowed and let Cass walk away until he was out of ear shot. Then he slid down the side of the wall, the jagged wall cutting through his shirt and flesh. There was something wrong within him, his eyes were almost completely dilated,
his heartbeat slow and his gut cramping and relaxing rapidly.
Charles let out a tiny moan. Clenching his bleeding hand with the other.
(Is the dude just having a panic attack? Honestly, if he said something, Cass would help him- Cass isn’t a cruel bastard-)
Cass has a bad feeling, and he pauses. He’s learned to trust his gut feelings. It’s saved him and the crew he was with multiple times. He looks over his shoulder, his steps faltering for a moment. He sighs, running his hand through his hair, closing his eyes and leans against the wall.
He debated if it was a good idea to trust his gut this time or ignore it. He didn’t hate Charles, just the idea of marriage and being held to someone other than himself. And he was taking his anger out on Charles, which was unfair to the other man. Charles probably had his own problems, just like himself.
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(Na, he was poisoned)
Charles's neck burned, Did he drink something? Eat some bad food? He rolled over and threw up, the majority of it being blood
(Please make sure you’re doing your best to meet the one paragraph minimum)
Cass sighs, walking back towards where he left Charles. He blinks once, his strides lengthening and he crouches beside Charles. He places his hand on the other mans back, “Charles?” He looks at the mess and frowns, his mind racing.
“Poison. . .” He whispers, carefully rolling Charles onto his back, “You need a healer.”
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(AH! sorry, i got distracted)
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Charles struggled to open his eyes. His insides were burning.
He looked up at Cass, a slight smile crossing his lips. "Oh, do I?" he asked sarcastically.
The words searing his throat as he talked. His body shivered despite the intense heat. And yet his smile stayed. Little black dots had started to swim in his vision.
“If you keep being so sarcastic, I may leave you out here to die.” He mutters, his own words laced with sarcasm. He grabs Charles’ arm and loops it around his shoulders. He stands slowly, pulling the other man with him.
“Well. . . Seeing as I don’t know the way around your unnecessarily large home, you’re going to have to tell me how to get to the infirmary.”
He looks at Charles for a moment, something that could be worry in his icy blue eyes befor he looks away and slowly starts to walk.
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Charles chuckled and tried to help Cass support his weight, even though he wasn't much help.
He rested his head on Cass's shoulder and softly gave the instructions to the medical wing.
"End of the hall on the right… Two doors down… top of the tower…" His speech was broken, but understandable.
Cass keeps walking, looping his own arm around Charles’ waist. He follows the other man’s directions. His gaze travels the walls of the hall, taking in the details. The history. He looks at Charles and speeds the pace up slightly.
“Stairs. . .” He murmurs, warning Charles before taking the step up.
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Charles watched Cass's eyes as much as he watched the floor. Following his line of site to the carvings on the walls. "do.. you …like… them?" he asked slowly. Cass sped up a little and Chalres attempted to meet the pace. But even still, he was getting worse. His eye had almost completely dilated, and his skin clammy and cold.
Charles heard Cass's warning, registered it, and still tripped at little.
Cass blinks and looks at Charles, “Yes, sort of.” He frowns slightly, slowing down again.
He shifts his hips slightly, taking on more of the other man’s weight. Even for his smaller frame than the other man, Cass could probably pick Charles up and run with him. He didn’t think he needed to do that quite yet.
And he took that thought back when Charles tripped over the first step. He sighs heavily and bends down, hooking his arm under the other man’s leg and picking him up. He then picked up his pace, going up the stairs swiftly.
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(many apologies my lord, I was but distracted immensely)
Charles panted for breath, even with Cass helping him along, it was still incredibly difficult to keep up with the urgent pace Cass set.
As they turned a corner, Cass shifted and took on more of Charles's weight, allowing them to continue at their speed. "you- you don't, need to…" He said breathlessly. He knew that without Cass, Charles would probably be dead, but still, he had his pride to worry about.
Just as he got the last word out, Cass bent down and swept Charles into his arms, leaving Charles's breath at the bottom.
His surprise evident on his face. He had no energy to spare to the masking of his emotions.
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(Also, love the new title<3)
Cass laughs softly, “Go back to hating me after we’ve saved your life. Save your pride, no one else will know about this. Except the healer, of course.” He goes up the last step and turns his body, using his back to push the door open.
He carries Charles into the room and sets him down on a bed. He looks at Charles for a long moment before the healer walks over.
“What’s happened?”
“Poison. I think someone laced his drink.” Cass Ellie’s, sitting down and looking at the woman. “Don’t know what kind though.”
The healer nods and starts inspecting Charles, “My lord, can you speak?”
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Charles rolled his eyes at Cass's words, but had no response to answer it with.
When he was laid down on one of the hospital wing beds, his body shook once then relaxed.
One of the healers came up to them at that moment and let out a tiny gasp. It was a rare time when Chalres was there. His pride would not allow him to accept help, much less ask for it.
The healer leaned over Charles and started taking notes as she inspected him. "My lord, can you speak?" She asked carefully. She was unsure if this would cause his temper to tip or not.
Charles looked up at her, his eyes glassy and unfocused, "Um…no.-No-i-can't" He said sarcastically with his words slurred together.
Cass looks at Charles, somewhat worried for the other man. He told himself he only cared because this marriage was needed for his family. He lightly touches Charles’ forehead and then moves away to a chair and sits down, watching.
At Charles’s words, Cass glares, “Jesus, Charles, you’re dying and she’s trying to help you. Be nice.”
The healer coughs awkwardly and then looks at Charles, “Did you eat anything to night or were you only drinking, my lord?”
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Charle's eye fluttered open as Cass's hand graced his head. He leaned into his touch slightly, closing his eyes again as he did so.
Why did he do that? he though to himself as he inwardly cringed at how much he craved for Cass to tuch him again. He would never admit to it, but he had enjoyed being carried.
Charles rolled his eyes at Cass's words and swallowed hard. Had he eaten anything? or was it just drink…. He looked up at the nurse and softened his voice. "No, just alcohol. No food."
Cass sighs softly, looking at Charles. He didn’t know why, or how, but he felt slightly worried for the man. He scoots the chair closer, looking at the healer. His hand rests on the edge of the bed, as close as he would let himself get to the other man.
The healer nods, writing something down on some paper, “Did any of your drinks taste off? Or textures, were a textures off?”
