#Philip Butler | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rosegunsdaysfic · 1 month ago

Text

No Feelings

Chapter 2

The days stretched on, endless and monotonous. Butler still kept track of dates and days of the week, only speculating about what might be happening beyond the walls of the garrison. He had received no information about the outside world since all his contacts had been completely cut off. While his calls and letters had only been monitored until recently, now he was completely forbidden to call or write, even to his closest relatives. The excuse was a need to devote himself entirely to work, but in reality, Butler had already been stripped of almost all of his duties. For most of the day he sat idle in his office, trying as much as possible to ignore the silent presence of an impassive overseer.

Butler often mused that he might as well be in prison. At least then, he wouldn't feel like a bird in a cage, provided with everything for a relatively comfortable life on the one hand, but denied any freedom on the other. Confined to a small space, he was alone with the same faces, each watching his every move wherever he went.

And, of course, with his master who periodically indulged in his 'possession'. To be more precise, Butler was forced to spend practically every evening in Gabriel's company. Gabriel summoned him to his office either by phone or through his people, and naturally, Butler had no right to refuse, no matter how much he wanted to. Mentally preparing himself in advance, he obediently appeared in this hated place, where Gabriel detained him for at least an hour, forcing him to drink with him and listen to another meaningless pompous speech about his mission on this earth. Fortunately, this torture was often interrupted by someone's phone call or a visit from one of the subordinates—although the workday should have ended by this time, the employees of this department always had some overtime work. Having dealt with such an issue, Gabriel returned to Butler with a displeased face and, apparently, remembering how much he hated his job, began to complain about daily duties. This was a little better than the previous speech, but Butler still got tired quickly. He could not in any way support this conversation, could not express sympathy or otherwise react to it. As he sat across from Gabriel, almost choking on the wine which he detested, he dreamed only of the speedy end of his torment, when he could finally briefly hide from everyone in a room vigilantly guarded by the major's loyal subordinate.

However, sometimes Butler's melancholy gaze lingered on Gabriel, and then he noticed something. This man... was very lonely. He didn't just mock Butler, no—he was actually completely alone, with no one to talk to. ‘No wonder’, Butler thought, ‘who in their right mind would put up with this psychopath? I have nowhere else to go, so he takes advantage of it.’

“Listen,” Gabriel suddenly interrupted his monologue, turning to Butler, “what's wrong with you? I understand that you don't enjoy this, but at least before you'd say something. Now you're just silent all the time. When you’re like that... you’re no fun at all.”

He tried to speak as if it didn't bother him much and he had simply found another reason to complain, but he looked genuinely upset. Butler couldn't help but smirk. “Well, if I'm so boring, maybe you'll let me go?”

Gabriel looked at him gloomily. “That's not what I meant,” he muttered.

“That's exactly what I mean,” Butler sighed, placing his glass on the table in front of him. “Seriously, why don't you find another conversational partner instead of using my ears? I understand, of course, that few people can stand you, but... maybe you could find someone willing to talk to you if you forget about your revenge plan for a while. You've learned to approach people, so use those abilities to find yourself some friends.”

Gabriel laughed. “The thing is, I don't need just anyone, Phil. I need you specifically.”

“Oh, of course,” Butler grimaced, “I can be mocked, that's much more fun.”

“Only you see it as mockery,” Gabriel looked away. “I'm just being honest with you because I feel like I can. I enjoy spending time with you. It's not so easy to meet someone like you.”

Butler was taken aback by this statement. He paused for a moment, unable to find the right words to answer. “I thought you hated me,” he finally said, his lips curling into a slight smile.

“Well, you have serious flaws,” Gabriel smiled condescendingly, “but I can put up with them. Besides, you're getting better right before my eyes. Now you completely suit me. Well, not quite yet, but only because you don't want to talk to me.”

“How sweet,” Butler remarked sarcastically, “I'm pleasing you now because you control everything I do. It's convenient to mold a person to your requirements, and there's no need for any compromises. By the way, I can't stand you, just so you know.”

“I know,” Gabriel replied, his smile unchanged. “It's a shame, but I doubt I can do anything about it.”

Butler looked down, not knowing what else to say. He felt an odd awkwardness from Gabriel's unexpected confession and couldn't shake it off, although he internally convinced himself that the other was probably just trying to manipulate his emotions for his own amusement. And he was falling for it so easily and thinking all sorts of things.

“Okay, if I'm so annoying to you, that's enough from you for today. You can go.”

Gabriel turned away from him, emphasizing his words, but Butler didn't move at once. He had been waiting for this permission for so long, but at that moment, for some reason, he wasn't at all happy to receive it. Realizing this feeling, he instantly became angry with himself. After all, what did he care about Gabriel's hurt feelings and loneliness? The other was to blame for such an attitude towards him, so let him now reap the rewards of his efforts.

Of course, Gabriel didn't hold a grudge for long, and the very next evening, Butler was invited back to his office. He continued to deliver the same monologues, and Butler was still sick of them, but they both stopped complaining about each other and pretended, as much as possible, that everything was fine. Such was their daily life—suffocating, toxic, and Butler began to think that this would always be the case. He had already almost gotten used to this drastically changed life and had reconciled himself to the situation to some extent, but often couldn't hide his inner state. Even though he didn't say anything about it, everything was readable in his facial expression, his intonations, and even the heavy sighs that sometimes involuntarily escaped his chest. He was tired, tired of this nauseating reality and his own powerlessness. He could change nothing, and no one could help him.

“You look tired,” Gabriel remarked one day. “It's strange, you don't seem to be overloaded with work—so what's the matter?”

And then Butler blurted out what he had been silent about for so long. “I'll tell you what. It's because your guards are driving me insane. I can't stand seeing their faces anymore, they're everywhere – wherever I am. They're only absent from this office,” Butler sneered, “but you're here. As a result, I... I can't be alone anywhere. Do you really think a person can live like this and not go crazy?”

Having spoken, Butler looked into Gabriel's eyes—to his surprise, he looked slightly confused, as if he hadn't expected such complaints at all. A chuckle escaped Butler's chest. “Oh yeah, what was I saying. You don't think about such things at all.”

Snapping out of his initial shock, Gabriel returned to his usual falsely benevolent smile. “Yes, things are difficult for you right now. But there's nothing to be done—it's necessary. It's the only way to control you.”

Anger and agitation were growing inside Butler, threatening to burst out soon, but for now he was desperately trying to control himself. “I'm already locked in this building, I can't escape—isn't that enough? Can you at least, just a little bit, loosen the surveillance?”

Gabriel still smiled, but now there was something like condescending pity in his eyes. “No way. You see, I've already managed to understand what kind of person you are. As soon as I give you a little more freedom than necessary, you'll immediately do something that I won't like at all. No,” Gabriel shook his head, as if emphasizing his refusal, “you must always be kept on a short leash.”

Gabriel’s last words echoed in Butler's ears with an unpleasant ring. He said nothing, although so much he wanted to say in response—but what was the point? If he continued such a conversation, it would only turn into an endless argument, fray his nerves, and never lead to the desired result.

Therefore, Butler's entire reaction boiled down to the fact that he glared at Gabriel with a heavy look, hoping that this alone would fully express his feelings and thoughts. Gabriel averted his gaze, a nervous smirk playing on his lips. “Stop looking at me like that. It's unsettling.”

“Unpleasant, huh?” Butler replied with a wry smile. “Although I thought you were used to it.”

“Wrong. People, of course, looked at me in different ways, but usually I saw envy or admiration in their eyes. Sometimes fear. But as for such an expression,” Gabriel met Butler's gaze for a second, then looked away again, “I see it for the first time.”

Grimacing, Butler bit his lip. “Right, I completely forgot that all these people only see your facade. If they knew the truth, such a look would be the only thing you’d ever know.”

“You see, it's all because you know too much. If you hadn't decided one day to learn more about me than you should have, then you wouldn't be suffering now from the fact that you can't get it out of your head. What's more important,” Gabriel smiled smugly, “you might not have been watched so closely. So... you should partly blame yourself for the current situation.”

Once again, Butler had to swallow the words bursting out, full of righteous indignation and anger. From time to time, Gabriel expressed this way, reminding Butler of his misdeeds, making him feel guilty—as if everything he was getting now was nothing more than just punishment for all his sins. Butler was not going to argue or justify himself; there was no reason for that. Instead, he asked, “Don’t you care how people treat you?”

“They see me as an angel incarnate, remember? So why should I be upset about it?”

“Exactly because it's all just an illusion. Their admiration for you is just as artificial as your image.”

Gabriel's lips twitched, distorting his smile into something uncertain. Emboldened by this reaction, Butler smirked, “You see? No one really knows the real you. You've never let anyone in, have you? So how can someone develop genuine feelings for someone they know nothing about?”

Gabriel laughed. It wasn't a mocking, smug, or insane laugh—none of the kinds Butler was used to. Too forced, devoid of genuine amusement—such a laugh it was. “You think you know everything, don't you, Phil? You'd better watch what you say.”

“But if you were to reveal this truth about yourself to someone,” Butler continued, ignoring Gabriel's warning and increasingly grim expression, “I wonder what that someone would say. Would they suggest you seek some kind of treatment? Or would they simply... be horrified and run as far away from you as possible? What do you think?”

Gabriel didn't respond and now wasn't even looking at Butler. It was a bad sign—a sign that Butler should stop right there and avoid trouble. But he couldn't bring himself to be quiet.

“Speaking as someone who knows ‘too much’ about you,” he said, “I'd run if I could. Because it's unbearable to even be around you, you monster. It's almost like there isn't enough air to breathe.”

A sinister grin twisted Gabriel's face. “‘Not enough air,’ huh?”

The moment Gabriel stood up, Butler instinctively did the same. Yet, his reaction was too slow. Before he could take even a step back, Gabriel was right in front of him.

A sudden, unexpectedly hard punch to the face knocked Butler off balance. He managed to stay on his feet, but as soon as he straightened up, he gasped for air. Because... the other's fingers were mercilessly squeezing his neck.

“I'll show you what it really means when there isn’t enough air,” Gabriel said.

His eyes, filled with cold fury, never left Butler's face, and every word was infused with the same emotion. He tightened his grip, and a horrible, disgusting rasp escaped Butler's throat.

“So, how does it feel?” Gabriel asked.

His malicious grin was practically dripping with venom, and his gaze continued to burn, penetrating beneath Butler's skin. Butler closed his eyes to avoid seeing it. Or perhaps it was simply because he no longer had the strength to keep them open.

“Let go,” he croaked, trying in vain to reach the hand that was strangling him, but each attempt was met with stinging blows to his forearm. “Please.”

“Not enough. Beg.”

The nails dug deeper into his skin, the fingers cutting off his air supply until Butler couldn't draw a breath. At some point, he felt himself being pressed against the table, the grip never loosening—Gabriel was practically pressing his whole body against him, and under different circumstances it would have seemed strange, but now Butler hardly cared. He wanted only one thing—to be allowed to breathe.

“Well, why are you silent now?” Gabriel asked. “Beg properly, plead with me, and then maybe I'll forgive you.”

Butler would have begged willingly, he would even have gotten down on his knees if it had been necessary—and if his body had obeyed him. But things were so bad that even with his eyes slightly open, he could barely see anything in front of him, and only sensations remained—fingers, as if penetrating his throat, and the ragged breath burning his neck skin.

“You're so beautiful right now,” Gabriel whispered, almost touching his ear with his lips.

‘So this is when I die? Pervert.’

Gasping for air, Butler felt his consciousness slipping away, and then the hand squeezing his neck released. His legs gave out immediately, and he collapsed to the floor, taking his first breath in what felt like an eternity—only to be wracked by a fit of coughing as if his lungs were now refusing to accept oxygen. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a shadow looming over him and managed to lift his gaze, still coughing—Gabriel was staring at him, but there was no longer any rage or any other emotion in his eyes. Nothing but an absolute, terrifying emptiness.

Butler turned away and, as soon as the coughing subsided slightly, tried to get up, intending to leave—unsuccessfully, his legs still refused to obey him. The nail marks on his neck suddenly throbbed with pain as soon as he came to his senses, and his hand reached for the wounds, as if it could somehow help. Gabriel went down on one knee beside him.

“You should be more careful with me,” he said softly, and Butler flinched at the sound of his voice so close. “I... almost killed you just now. You have no idea how hard I had to restrain myself.”

“You're insane,” was all Butler could manage, without looking at Gabriel. After a few seconds of silence, he managed to curl his lips into a weak smile, but then another fit of coughing racked his body.

“And what exactly made you so angry?” he asked, catching his breath. “Could it be that I hurt your nonexistent feelings?”

Gabriel remained silent, and once more, Butler desperately wanted to leave this room. He finally managed to get to his feet, but couldn't take a step—his knees buckled again, pinning him to the same spot on the floor.

“Don't move for now,” the same hand that had just been strangling Butler now ran lightly through his hair. And before he could be surprised, his head was pressed against the other man's shoulder.

“Easy now, don't struggle,” Gabriel smirked down at the top of Butler's head, holding him tightly and ignoring all his attempts to break free. “I won't hurt you anymore.”

Gradually realizing the situation, Butler felt a shiver of horror run through his body for the first time in many years. The last thing he expected from someone who had almost killed him, all the while maintaining an indifferent expression, was soothing words and an embrace. Such drastic shifts were confusing and muddled his thoughts, leaving him unable to understand what was happening or how he should react.

It was all incredibly strange, but instead of continuing to struggle against Gabriel, Butler buried his face in his shoulder, allowing himself to be stroked on the back and repeatedly whispered to with the same words: 'Calm down.' The voice and touch were almost hypnotic, forcing him to stop resisting and simply give in, to draw closer and receive the much-needed comfort—but who better than he knew how deceptive it could be? Nevertheless, Butler found no strength within himself to pull away.

Remaining in this position, unable to see Gabriel's expression and trying not to remember the recent empty gaze of his cold eyes, he could even imagine that the other man was still capable of feeling something.

#rose guns days #fanfiction #slash #Philip Butler #Gabriel Kaburaya #to be continued

1 note · View note