#⌇aftertaste of a lost home ( 𝙊𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧 / 𝙍𝙖𝙪𝙢 )

[distopea]

💞 REVOLVING HEARTS — our muses' romantic relationship (raum and oliver this one!)

@cantuscorvi

MOODBOARD & AESTHETIC GAME !

[distopea]

Happy (??????) Birthday my dear Rain 💕(and please forgive me). You know when inspiration strikes, it commands, and dammit ... It's about them. Goodbye, dear friend, good travel, an⌇aftertaste of a lost home ( 𝙊𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧 / 𝙍𝙖𝙪𝙢 )d enjoy your 28th year with this absolutely awful prompt of mine ✨

@cantuscorvi

He could feel the sun on his olive skin burning slightly in the middle of the season. His chestnut eyes were lost on the poppy fields in front of us, the sounds coming from the King’s manor echoing in the background. It was sundown outside, the sun already describing its final curve in the sky. The colors were vivid; a mix between pale pink, vivid orange and nuances of green. Oliver had always loved this particular scenery; it felt quiet, far from the general hubbub of their lives. He had the sensation that the sky was a painting; he could understand why so many artists had tried their best to reproduce it onto their canvas. But truly, there was nothing matching the vision through his own eyes. There were no skills in this world capable of reproducing what an iris was able to see. 

Oliver looked aside, his blue strings falling onto his forehead, while he observed a very serious Raum sitting next to him. They had never come back here for years. Perhaps even decades now. It felt quite unfamiliar for them to be sitting on those large stairs made of stone, observing nature in silence. It was such a comfortable silence though; no argument, no petty remarks. They had bruised each other enough to know there was no point leaving another mark at that moment in their lives. Oliver felt at peace, closing his eyes to enjoy the last moment of the sun decaying, and the quiet sounds of the wind in leaves. 

“You know it’s not going to be forever like this. This means nothing.”

Oliver blinked once more, coldness invading his body. He played with a few rocks under his boot, and eventually gave a shrug. “Yeah, I’m aware. But I still like it.” He answered, but he couldn’t help noticing the undertone in Raum’s voice. It was something even rarer than their mutual quietness. Something that could only announce darker times. Oliver shivered, while the sky began to lose its colors. Now there was barely any warmth to envelop his shoulders, and just for a moment, he felt like this boy he had been once. Fragile but unique in his own way. Just like their relationship had been so unique after all. Raum was right; it meant nothing, and it wouldn’t stay like this forever. 

The sun disappeared behind the hill, the sky now wrapped in its best blue shades. He had always loved this color more than anything else. Cold, or electrifying; didn’t they say that the flames were even warmer when they were blue? That was why he had decided to dye his hair a long time ago. Blue was the color of both his sorrow and freedom; the color of his soul. Oliver sighed, pain appearing for the first time within his chest. He knew it wasn’t normal; he knew that he was supposed to be free from this sensation. But was it something else? Was it the sensation of his heartbreak?

He blinked, again, turning his head aside to catch a glimpse of Raum’s face. Nothing. No one was sitting by his side. The courtyard was empty of his presence; even his fragrance was gone. 

“Raum…” 

“I’m here.” 

“Raum…” 

He coughed, a splash of blood escaping his throat. The taste was so bitter, rasping against the walls of his mouth. He gripped the air, trying to find Raum’s hand in the middle of this chaos. There was no poppy field anymore; no manor, no sunset to watch. He was slumped and laid in the back alley of a dark street, the concrete underneath his body as his last bed. He blinked, again and over again, his vision now so blurry. But his eyes were so dry; staring at the darkness, and the man loomed over him. Even God was mocking him right now, preventing him from capturing the perfect image of this imperfect lover. 

But God… God, he had loved him. 

Oliver tried to smile, but it only turned into a small grimace. There was something strange about losing all that blood. At first, coldness was piercing through his limbs, like infinite little blades toying through every inch of his body. But now… Now he felt as if he was relaxing in a warm bath, unable to know if he was in pain or not. After all, he had been born cursed; eager to experience everything but unable to feel anything.

“I saw the poppy field,” Oliver said, quietly. He could tell that Raum was looking at him. “You know… The one in front of the house. When we were sneaking in the backyard during those parties…” He swallowed bitterly, his throat dry. It was as if all his saliva had turned into sand. He could barely feel his tongue; yet, he wanted to tell him so badly. “I think… I think I was a hell of a dancer, ugh. I think I danced like no one has ever danced before.” He smiled, then coughed again. “Fuck… I was so good, wasn’t I?”  

He heard a slight chuckle, and a horn in the distance. The city was so lively at the time of his death. The only source of warmth was coming from Raum’s hand plastered onto his bleeding stomach. It was a lethal shot; they both knew it. A whore couldn’t run away forever from the Cleaners; even less when a certain Requiem would be the one in charge of his execution. They had both pretended it couldn’t happen, but they had been fools. 

But only those in love were fools. 

Oliver mapped his stomach until he found Raum’s hand. He was aware of the consequences of his death, but at the same time, he wanted to relieve his lover from his guilt. With no strength whatsoever, Oliver intertwined his fingers, staring at the shape looming over him. Only now did he regret all those times he had pretended he didn’t care to know what Raum looked like. He was craving to see his face properly. 

“This is not your fault,” Oliver whispered, determined. He even frowned while those words left his mouth. For a man who had spent his entire adulthood lying over and over again, there was nothing but the entire truth capable of rolling on his tongue right now. “You did nothing. I was already trapped when you found me.” He tried to move, but his body couldn’t do it anymore. Darkness was spreading its wings in front of his eyes, but he fought it. He hadn’t finished saying the things he wanted to say. 

“It’s fine… It wasn’t meant to be forever.” Oh, he was back at lying again. He pinched his lips together, circled Raum’s fingers a bit harder than before. 

“It was like my dancing…,” Oliver whispered, feeling that he didn’t have the strength to fight it anymore. The world was cold and cozy, and his consciousness barely floated anymore. His thumb described a small circle on Raum’s hand. “It was… so good… So good…” 

Nothing but a veil of dark. 

He couldn’t hear the horns from the city. He couldn’t even feel Raum’s hand. He just knew that he was at peace. He was free. 

He was with the man he loved. 

And just like that, Oliver King pronounced his very last truth.

[distopea]

❝  i chose you.  and i need you to trust that my decision is final.  trust me.  ❞ ( What if. Raum & Oliver 😶)

@cantuscorvi

His phone was buzzing inside his pocket, like it had for the past few days. He couldn’t remember how many calls he had missed from the entire Cleaners’ squad, but surely things were getting worse hour after hour. There was no doubt that Astra was aware that his favorite little toy had been gone for too long, and that an important client and business partner of the Cleaners was dead. Oliver was nowhere to be found, and they had probably already tracked him to Raum’s place thanks to the GPS inside his phone. It was a matter of time before someone would knock at his door, bargaining to get their toy back, and probably for the worst. The young dancer didn’t show much, but he was anxious. 

He threw a glance at his lover, and witnessed that his eyes were checking at Oliver’s pocket. Kaizen had been calling, then Gambit. Oliver was certain that the next dialed number might be Astra himself. He put the phone down onto the table, a deep and heavy sigh leaving his throat. If Raum had helped him escape this bloody hotel room, there were still the same doubts lingering inside Oliver’s mind. The same everlasting little ring telling him that he couldn’t trust anyone in his sorry world. He eyed Raum as if he had shown suspicious behavior, before he eventually stood back up and crossed his arms. 

“You know what, I should leave.” Oliver said, a bit harsher than he wanted to sound. It was enough to get Raum’s attention because of that. Oliver shook his head, already ready to bite because it was safer to defend himself right now. “Let's be honest for two minutes, what we are doing is stupid and reckless. It’s a matter of time before Kaizen will knock down your door and drag me out, or worse… It’s probably a matter of days before it’s Astra himself showing up.” He felt mortified, the weight of killing someone tangled with the fact that he had brought bad omens upon Raum’s life as well.

All that blood, those muffled screams, the way his eyes had rolled... Oliver turned around, facing the window and the night view in front of him. It was sickening to remember every second of his first murder, every detail printed deep inside his mind. He shivered at the thought of what their future would be now. Because what he had committed could only bring desperate times and yet…

“I know how he works…” Oliver muttered when he sensed Raum’s fingers clapped onto his biceps. He almost lost his balance, stiffened onto his legs. “He will ask Gambit to dig for any sort of information, and he will use it against you. He will try to know every weakness you may have, and it will force you to pick a side… And I’m not an idiot…” He turned around to watch Raum, his chestnut eyes for once facing the ordeals of his own fate. He wanted this truth not to be his final act, but it was as if written in marble already. He was born to die.

“You will save yourself, and I can’t really do much about it. I can’t even resent you for that because… Perhaps I would do the same.” He pinched his lips together, looking away from Raum’s piercing eyes. “So before you choose… Please at least, let me try-” 

Oliver stopped when there was a hand pressed against his lips. Whatever poison he might say next, Raum would permit him to voice it. He didn't know if it was out of pain, misery or maybe because he couldn't hear those thoughts anymore. He remained silent, his stare drifting back to observe his lover’s features. Every inch of him was screaming how it was painful to be in this situation… To wait for Raum to eventually state his worst fear out loud and abandon him again. 

❝  I chose you,  and I need you to trust that my decision is final. Trust me.  ❞

Oliver swallowed thickly, his eyes burning with this forbidden hope that was impossible to accept. Oh, if Raum was lying, it was too late. He couldn’t get away from his grip anymore, nor pretend that he had been looking to hear that the moment he had crossed his path again. Whether it was a game of fate or a thread of life, Oliver wanted to cling to it with all his heart. He blinked and slowly caught Raum’s wrist.

Even if it was a lie, at this point, at this moment, he chose to believe his heart. 

[distopea]

41.--to pretend. ( for Oliver )

@cantuscorvi

Kiss meme 💋 (not accepting)

He stepped out of the bathroom, back in his escort clothes. It was still the middle of night, but Raum hadn’t called him to stay this time, he needed a carnal connection, and despite their vicious argument before, they had both ended up making love. Fucking. Oliver was lost as he didn’t know anymore what they were doing during those moments. It was like facing two people at the same time; one who was caring and soft, and the other who was wicked and harsh. He knew that Raum was fighting himself to figure out what he should do, and Oliver, on his side, was letting him drown in that sea of doubts and false pretenses. 

He walked into the living room, and watched Raum’s back with agony. Oh, he had wished more than once that his lover - client - would one day tell him that this whole game was over. That he was free from running back to Astra. But they had never dared to have this conversation at all. Raum, at least, had stopped putting money on the table after it was done. It was the illusion of being two normal individuals. It was only a veil of honey to stop the rotten smell from spreading throughout the room. Yet, even if Oliver could pretend it wasn’t true, he could smell it. It was suffocating. 

“I have to go.” He said while he walked past Raum and stood in front of the desk. The blond was already looking at papers and documents, his hair and his creased shirt the only clues regarding what he had done just before. Everything belonged to the past; each time he was pulling Oliver in present times, he was quick to shove him back to a place where he wouldn’t have to see anything. He was back to his coldness, not even sparing an eye on Oliver. It had become his hurtful but usual goodbye. Only to pretend that Oliver wasn’t in the room, or perhaps a way to forget that he had been the one calling him. Oliver smirked bitterly and didn’t fight, before he turned around and made sure to grasp his phone. 

Kaizen, 3:45am: Where r you? Kaizen, 3:49am: I sent a car to your location. You gotta sleep, Astra wants to talk to you tomorrow. 

Oliver felt his heart sinking right inside his chest, the fear of dying suddenly invading his whole body. It had been months since he had seen Astra; the last meeting wasn’t pleasant. He could barely hide the fact that he was unwell and dizzy, but when he looked back up, he witnessed Raum glancing at him. Unmasked, Oliver was even more naked than he had ever been tonight. He pinched his lips together and shoved his phone right into his jeans pocket, defying Raum to ever ask that forbidden question he had never said:

‘Are you alright, Oliver?’ 

The blue-haired boy hesitated while he took his coat hanging on a chair, but instead of leaving the room, he eventually walked back to Raum’s desk. With no other word, he crossed the distance between them and gripped the collar of his shirt. With all of his heart, his hate, his muffled love, his agonizing fear, he kissed his lover. It was a way to pretend they were allowed to say goodbye like this, that tomorrow wouldn’t be a darker day than it was before. He parted when he felt that he couldn’t pretend anymore, before he eventually turned around. 

‘Are you alright, Oliver?’ 

Nothing. Oliver walked to the front door and left. Until next time. Until the next call. If there ever was a next day for him. 

[distopea]

@cantuscorvi

Matthias & Maxime (2019) dir. Xavier Dolan

[distopea]

 Ⓐ // Oliver !

@cantuscorvi

send me ⓐ and my muse will rate yours

Attractiveness:

repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable || attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || sexy || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || would tap that || perfect || godlike || holy fuck there are no words

Personality:

grating || irritating || frustrating || boring || confusing at best || awkward || unreasonable || psychotic || disturbing || interesting || engaging || affectionate || aggressive || ambitious || anxious || artistic || bad tempered || bossy || charismatic || appealing || unappealing || creative || courageous || dependable || unreliable || unpredictable || predictable || devious || dim || extroverted || introverted ||  egotistical || gregarious || fabulous || impulsive || intelligent || sympathetic || talkative || up beat || peaceful || calming || badass || flexible

How likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending || fuck no! || never || no way || not likely || not sure || indifferent || I’m asexual || maybe || probably || it depends || fairly likely || likely || yeah sure || yes || would tap that || hell yes || fuck yes! || wishing that could happen right now || as many times as possible || we are already having sex

Level of Friendship:

never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends || good friends || best friends || fuck buddies || bosom buddies || practically the same person || would die for them || true friends || my only friend ||

First impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

Current impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

How good of a kisser:

worst kisser ever || terrible || bad || awkward || just okay || alright || pretty good || good || makes me moan || excellent || exciting || oh god they’re good || I dream about it || fucking amazing || absolute perfection || we haven’t kissed

[distopea]

@cantuscorvi from here

When Raum entered the hotel room, Oliver was certain something would be over tonight. He had called him out of despair, shame and resentment, and fear that no one else in this world could understand the nature of his emotions. But talking and showing emotions weren’t their jam, revealing the ugliness of their behavior even less. Oliver felt at first mortified to even show Raum what he had done, like a puppy who had committed a petty act of destruction and who now waited for its master to punish him. Yet, underneath that veil of numbness, of fear and guilt, he felt profoundly relieved that Raum was here. That he wasn’t leaving the hotel room either. 

When he talked, Oliver barely registered his words, even if they had a deep impact on his mental health right now. He had never thought, not even once in his life, that someone could ever deserve to die; but now that he had planted that ice pick in someone, over and over again, it was clear that his vision was forever tainted. The sensation was sticking to his bones, like a disgusting glue, something that he couldn't get rid of. Oddly, he was able to understand what Raum had probably been through; why, after all these years, he had changed so much. 

“It’s…” He looked down, the soothing sensation of Raum’s hand mapping his hair forcing Oliver into a second state. He wasn’t really there, nor Raum either. In his head was running thousands of scenarios, where thousands of them were either running away, fighting, breaking up for good. “I didn’t notice.” Oliver answered in a whisper, but it wasn't sure if he was talking about those cuts he had done without seeing, or if there was something about the way he trembled and couldn’t cry. Did these emotions ever have a name? 

But their eyes met and Oliver inhaled. He was still gripping the ice pick with a discreet strength, facing the intensity of Raum’s eyes, and their extreme comprehension. He had never seen until now how much they could understand each other, and at this moment, he viewed the deepness of his shame for ever thinking and believed that Raum would have walked away and turned his back on him. Like he had rejected him in the past when he had opened up to him. But while he was swallowed in that blurry veil, incapable of moving or thinking, Raum was there to guide him. He wasn’t leaving. 

He sniffed and eventually threw the ice pick on the ground, mustering the last remains of courage and bravery that had pushed him to free himself from his own situation. Then you're coming with me. If freedom could have a sentence, he knew he could heard its bell right here. That it was a chance. His chance. Their chance.

“How much time do we have?” Oliver asked, watching the scenery with distant eyes, as all of his brain was trying to muffle the pit of dark emotions engulfing him, otherwise he knew that he wouldn't be able to move. He grabbed Raum’s wrist to anchor himself in reality, leaving his spot. Now, he knew, it was a time of survival. But at least, for once, he wasn’t alone. 

[distopea]

Gimme the Raum/Oliver kid, the brattiest child in the universe 🤣

@cantuscorvi

send me a pair name and I’ll tell you what I think it would be like if they had a child. (not accepting)

Name

Jonas Weiss King 

Gender

Male | He/Him 

General Appearance

A clashing mix of little details from both of his parents side. He’s as tall as Raum, and he inherited most of his traits (especially his nose), but beneath that, a lot of Oliver’s expressions are appearing. His body is lean, but a bit of work out would make him look strong quickly. His hair is a middle ground between Oliver’s natural darkness and Raum’s blondness, a happy duality of brown with sunny reflects falling in messy strands. His eyes are light brown, but he has a strange and rare heterochromia, a quarter of his left eye is intensely blue, just like Raum. He wears glasses due to sight issues.

Jonas looks like your local wealthy young man. He dresses casually, but all of his clothes are expensive and with rare materials.

Personality

A quiet boy with a raging temper. Jonas is a very smart kid, confident in his skills (because he was raised this way), but he’s a slow hunter type of personality who prefers to strike when he knows it will make his prey bleeds. He’s analytic, he takes his time, but he often becomes the best at what he does and chooses to follow. He’s also quite a free spirit. He especially adores to clash with Raum, his need to defy authority stronger than his desires to become his heir. He knows that he will. 

Due to his parents’ personality and own ways to show their affection, Jonas is an introvert with his emotions. However, he shares their equal ambition to exist and somehow be the center of their attention. 

Special Talents

Jonas is a chess genius from a very early age. 

He speaks several languages, but prefers to default to English so both his parents can understand him (unless he doesn’t wish) 

He has a very vivid memory. He can recall events that happened a very long time ago.

A pun master. He has a quick mind to snap back and usually it pisses off Raum and makes Oliver snigger in the background. 

Who they like better

Raum, when it comes to evolve in darker paths. He appreciates his collected mind, and he wants to learn from him. Even if it means through violence and manipulation.

Oliver, when he needs to blow off some steam and feels more normal and casual, he has the sensation he can laugh more with him. 

Neither when he feels that his parents attention are for one another, and not only for him. He also pities them for their lack of communication and doesn’t like to be the middle man. 

Both of them equally when he senses how fiercely they would protect him. 

Who they take after more

Jonas truly mixes both of their personalities to take the best and the worse of them. He leans to be more like Raum on his professional interest, but sometimes, he wishes to be carefree like Oliver. 

Personal Headcanon

Jonas was so unhappy to have sight issues that he has tried to hide it for a very long time to his parents. 

He had an imaginary friend for a long time since Raum wasn’t inclined to let him socialize normally. 

He has often resented Raum for not “taking care” of Oliver’s illness, but he understood with time that it was his way of caring. 

Jonas is sure and unsure regarding his parents love. He feels a very powerful connection but it couldn’t be explained through one word. 

He’s a very fierce protector, especially with his parents. 

Face Claim

Skylar from Lost in the Clouds

[distopea]

@cantuscorvi

from Yesterday he still looked in my eyes... by Marina Tsvetaeva

[distopea]

@cantuscorvi

"I should have left you bleeding to your death." ( for Oliver ;w; )

betrayal liners (not accepting)

He dropped the knife on the floor, his hand still trembling under the adrenaline. He was shaking from the head to the toes, still shocked by the events of the night. Never had he thought that he could have followed Astra’s orders – he was a man of peace, clumsy, destroyed by life, but he was certainly not a killer, and he had proven it tonight. His eyes were full of bitter tears when his knees eventually abandoned him for good. He had only injured Raum, he knew he would survive it, but through his lack of strength in that act of betrayal, he had also signed his own death.

Oliver swallowed his spit, his throat dry and tight, and his mind burning like a billion suns. Requiem was waiting for him outside of the building, with the firm intention to bring the proof of Raum’s death back to Astra’s nest. It was his punishment, after all. Astra had never been kind to him the moment he had shown his true colors. He was expecting Oliver to forget his place, his investigations bringing him to discover that he was indeed close and intimate with another leader, another rival.

He could have asked any of his commanders to assassinate Raum, but it had been decided that Oliver should be the one digging the deadly knife into his heart. Astra had called it biblical – like Abel and Cain, both of them were doomed to be the end of the other one. Oliver blinked, barely hearing those vicious and destructive words whispered by Raum. He wanted to laugh as much as he wanted to cry, and while he was contemplating the bloody blade in front of his chocolate eyes, he was also certain that it was the last time he would see his childhood friend, his lifetime lover.

“No need.” He said while he observed the room, his gaze eventually fell on the features of Raum. Both of them were on the ground, but only one was truly defeated. Raum would simply get another scar on his chest, while Oliver, well, would be returning to dust. He didn’t have the guts to be a killer, he was nothing but a pawn standing in the middle of the Kings. He removed the strands of his blue hair out of his eyes, painting his cheek with the blood of the one he loved so intensely but silently. “Whether it was you or them, my fate is sealed.” He didn’t expect pity, nor that he was seeking for that either.

He stood back up, stumbling a little bit, his heart falling inside the pit of his stomach, swallowing every of his hopes. He had been a fool to expect that there was any other fate for someone like him, and he felt even more upset that he had hoped for Raum to save him. He should have saved himself a long time ago. He wasn’t smart, he wasn’t cunning – he was only the disappointment of a family, finally reaching its end, dying in the cosmos where he wouldn’t be remembered. He turned around, clenched his fists.

“I loved you.” He dared to confess, his voice trembling under the emotions. “I loved you so much. I have loved you every day since I met you.” He paused, his eyes falling on the blood staining Raum’s shirt. “But my love for you was my grave and I knew it. I’m sorry…” He moved, hesitated to come closer, before he decided that it was something he wouldn’t deserve anymore. “You should have let me bleed to death that day… But you were too selfish to free me, and too cruel to save me. And me… I was such a fool to try playing a game I couldn’t win.” Tears. Uncontrollable. He looked away and headed to the door of the apartment. 

“I’ll see you again.”

                            But not in this world.

[distopea]

Is it still not enough?

Manwha: at the end of the road 

@cantuscorvi​

[distopea]

A roll of eyes was earned on Oliver's side, but that was his pain and suffering for coming after Raum after all.

"For someone who clearly prefer creating difficulties where things could be simple, you sure show how your double standards are standing right now." He turned around and cocked his head aside, leaning against the desk. "Beauty and convenience must coexist in a decent world, but you're very aware that this is not how rules are made. Would you remember something so delicate and simple compared to something that will catch your attention? You used to brag about how you hated when things were dull."

He smirked, then continued. "I don't pretend to be open-minded on everything, at least, nor to have the monopoly of what you call refined and delicate. Whom am I speaking with tonight? I dealt with the liar before, should I say hello to the pot calling the kettle black?"

“Easy paths? I don’t see your point — is there something particularly difficult about picking your clothes off a rack, versus having them made to detail?”

“Regardless, must something be difficult for it to be pleasing? Beauty and convenience can coexist on the same spectrum. I'd argue it's better if they do. And, if you can only find value in the bold then you are blinding yourself to its opposites. The subtle and the dark, the delicate and refined. Tsk. More of a narrow-minded perspective than I expected from you, Oliver.”

[distopea]

"I remember someone I don’t know."

@cantuscorvi

// art by MJ (do not repost)

[distopea]

“What a strange concept, infinity.” Oliver hummed, bathing in an attention that felt strangely so welcomed; no, deeper than that, it was needed. “Because once we swear that infinity binds us together, then it fades to routine and boredom. We’re not infinite. Otherwise… Well, we wouldn’t be here at all. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe we are.” He smiled, gently, chestnut irises following the curves of Raum’s face. He reminded him to be careful for what he wished, but truly, after all their adventures and tantrums, he couldn’t even hope for Oliver to behave.

He was past beyond the limits of decency when it came to Raum, always defying the odds to grab a bit more of his time, of his eyes, of his heart and perhaps his soul. 

Here though, for once, he didn’t feel rejected in his own growing needs. Usually, he could feel whenever Raum was shifting mood; the sudden realization in his eyes was always there. Oliver was used to the hit and the venom of his words, and he braced himself for another tempest. After all, swallowing poison would make him insensitive at some point… Perhaps that was the only way to survive Raum, right here? However, as he was so certain to be right about it, strangely, he couldn’t read the same emotions in the irises of his lover.

There was something else right, something he had never perceived before, or had pushed himself to never witness. It was a hesitation, a vulnerability that was rarely - if not ever - exposed on Raum’s side. Something in the gleam of his pupils that was more a vow of weakness rather than an affirmation of power. Oliver swallowed thickly as he listened to his words, tainted with another meaning, another hidden message… 

“Surely, we’re not children anymore.” He whispered back, his fingers still exploring his blond locks with devotion, feeling the silkiness of his strands right against his palm. Raum never looked away, never shifted… But once Oliver had the sensation, he could open his mouth and swallow him down his throat, bringing him somewhere he was so afraid to go. It was power, and it was equality. It was everything he had desired right there, offered on a silver tray, and yet he was so hesitant to take it. He had dreamt of Raum’s vulnerability for so long, praying to whoever would listen to have it for himself and use it as a weapon, to be revengeful and bitter… To make every word and every action his solemn agony. 

“Raum…” Oliver called, his name heavy on his tongue. He inhaled softly, dragged himself closer because, truly, where could he ever escape right now? He adored the sensation of his palms upon his skin, those very ones who had bruised him, hurt him, so many times before. He rubbed his forehead against his, gave another kiss, then another one. He was a fool to believe that he was a master of revenge, even more of a fool to try at this instant to tell himself it wasn’t love. It was their own definition, their own curse, their own world. It was their burden since they were both children...

“If you believe I can’t see beyond your mask, then you’re even more of an idiot than I am for saying those words…” 

Feelings were like rocks inside of his throat, and his heart was pounding. He forced himself to move away, just enough to look at him in the eyes, both of his hands gently pressed against his cheeks. Right there… Right there, he saw that he was naked, with no mask to contemplate anymore. Oliver shivered before he pressed his lips against his, again, again, again… It was poisonous, but he couldn't contain his own urges. 

“Raum… Raum, you have to understand. Surely you must already know..." He caressed his skin as if it would fade away, his whole body covered in goosebumps as he knew he was about to reveal himself. “Whether there’s nothing but rotten wires underneath your perfect mask, you have already shown me.” He answered, brown and blue meeting again. 

“We’re not kids anymore.” He continued, unable to look away. Brave for once. “You saw a whore, and I saw a torturer. You could have made my life far more complicated with one snap of your fingers. I could have been killed.” He kissed him again, more fervently. “But despite all those rotten emotions, your pride and your wrath. Despite your selfish need to have me as your pet, if not your friend, and then sometimes your lover… Despite everything you could have done…” He closed his eyes, brought Raum’s hands to his face to kiss his palm.

“Didn’t you always choose me? Am I not right here… With you?” Oliver murmured. “The only thing you are still hiding is your desire to have me by your side…” 

/ @cantuscorvi

“From now, until when? Or would you like it ad infinitum?” Eyebrows raised, and a soft huff of amusement left him, the usual sardonic look appearing on his face for a brief moment. Raum wasn’t blind to the effect his attention could have on others. He even understood that Oliver found it hard to bear, despite how he selfishly ignored that fact — and he doubted that Oliver truly wanted it indefinitely. Usually, it was just a matter of time until they were at one another’s throats again. Regardless of the unusual spirit of their current meeting… in the future, why would it be any different?

“Careful what you wish for,” Raum murmured, the corner of his lips tilted upward dangerously. Still — no matter what thoughts had run through his head, Raum didn’t look away. Truthfully, he didn’t dare to shatter whatever fragile moment of sincerity had miraculously appeared. They were in uncharted territory now, and some isolated, obscure part of him yearned to try and bridge that chasm between them that never seemed to shrink.

Blue eyes flared with delight under Oliver’s soft attention on his face, Raum’s lips parting slightly when his fingertips mapped the upper. The selfish sentiment he expressed; his hunger for Raum’s attention, plucked at a string in Raum’s subconscious. It almost itched, like poking at an old scar that had never truly healed properly.

When did you become the one looking away, while I still feel my heart pounding if your eyes are not solemnly for myself?

The scar — intimacy: a few whispered words like this, a gentle touch, a certain look, the right person… Whether he knew it or not, Oliver had cast out his line with impeccable bait attached, and Raum was circling his hook.

“We aren’t children anymore,” he replied simply, a fact that should seem like the obvious conclusion of what had happened to change them both. “Life continues. We mature and we add baggage. That’s all.” An understatement, but a necessary one, otherwise their conversation would never end. Surely both men had been through countless circumstances to end where they were now. It was easier to rely on the facts than to try and untangle that knot where their messy lives intersected.

Raum shook his head, confused on how Oliver could consider him to be uncaring because he was able to look away; when even he himself could perceive how profound his obsession with the other man had become. All this time, Raum had felt himself chasing Oliver’s shadow. Right from the very start. Raum booked their first appointment. Raum chased him when he didn’t call. Raum acted ignorant in front of the Cleaners. Raum ran for him when he was injured. All the while, greedy for him, lying for him, killing for him. He still couldn’t understand it? Just because Raum didn’t say it aloud? Because if he did, he feared it would flood out of him like thick black paint and never stop?

“I’m not —” Raum inhaled, and for once, hesitation coloured his features for what he was about to say. I’m not afraid. The way Oliver looked at him — a smile, open and sincere yet so small, rueful, anticipating rejection — it ached. A sad little shadow of the radiant boy he had once known. Perhaps he was right. Raum did want to look away. Desperately he wanted to, alarm bells ringing in his mind to find a distance where he wouldn’t have to face that feeling. His fingers curled a little tighter around Oliver’s, and he forced himself to stay, swallowing his sentiments before speaking again more calmly.

“Like I said. I’m not looking away, now.” A kiss, a touch to the forehead. The hook on Oliver’s line was slowly sinking into Raum’s cheek. His eyebrows furrowed, a bizarre knot-like feeling building in his throat the longer the conversation continued.

“And if there’s nothing for you to find?” His eyes finally closed, forehead pressed up against Oliver's. Raum’s voice was close to a whisper when he replied. “If there is no underneath. Just…”

( ugly, flawed, dark sticky threads and layers, hard to separate from the other parts of himself, shards of glass stuck together with tar. )

“More of what you already know. Would you still care to see?”

[distopea]

@cantuscorvi

[suddenly feels around the bed to search for the other’s hand / body when they’re sleeping] ( Raum > Oliver, 👀 how about -- waking in the middle of the night to this, Raum silently staring at him like he's going to disappear 🥺)

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ♡ (not accepting)

Despite his state of sleepiness, his consciousness was still working hard. Through his experiences, and because he had sadly learnt how dangerous any kind of touch could be, his body was always on alert, sending sudden jolts each time he was touched. Even through the deepest sleep, he was pulled back to the surface, emerging from his dreams or nightmares to contemplate the object of his sudden alarm. His body would be tense, his heartbeat increased by the agony of being in danger, but while he woke up this time, through the darkness of the room, he could perceive another kind of stare matching another kind of touch.

Rarely Raum would allow himself to expose his real emotions – they were both experts in wearing masks to pretend they were someone else. If Oliver only wanted to show a false strength, Raum, on the other hand, had become utterly good at faking a lost softness. It was sometimes hard to remember that he had been once someone with gentle emotions, but Oliver understood, for sure, that they had been all buried through life’s experiences that would remain untold. The two of them were once again matching, unequally, but still linked by that same red knot rolled around their wrists.

Oliver wanted to talk, to ask what was going on, but he was pierced in many ways by the lingering sadness gleaming inside of Raum’s blue irises. He had never looked at him this way before – never with such a painted fear through his usual assurance. Was it fear, really? Oliver felt his throat tightening under a wave of burning questions, all of them unable to escape his lips, because they were forbidden. Just like his emotions right now, or his most secret wishes. Taunting a man in torment couldn’t be the answer either, and despite his usual playfulness, there was a time where vulnerability shouldn’t be mocked.

“I’m a bit cold.” Oliver stated, his voice husky and barely audible. He gently slid himself closer, all of his body almost shivering under the meaning of this approach. It felt as if he was entering the domain of a wounded beast, caught in a moment of weakness, and potentially ready to strike. But he didn’t wish to fight, there was the agonizing need to soothed his hurt soul. Their souls. He flushed himself closer, the pad of his thumb describing a gentle curve upon Raum’s back, his nose buried against his chest, but certainly not his ear. No. He didn’t wish to know if his heart was beating harder than before.

“Sometimes, with what happened, I forget we’re both humans.” He pressed a kiss right above his chest and looked up. “It reminds me of the sunflowers field near my childhood home.” Where they almost kissed. Where they were vulnerable too. Where Raum told him he would leave for the boarding school. “I was very much of a human there.” He nuzzled against his neck, slid his body closer to intertwine their legs together. Now he felt warm. It was dangerously comforting. Tomorrow morning, he promised himself that he wouldn’t leave so soon.

“You were too.”

[distopea]

“Remembrance of things past is not necessarily the remembrance of things as they were.” -Marcel Proust

@cantuscorvi