#this is very fanfic-y and dreamscape-y pls do not mind me

[dcves]

MEME RESPONSE. invite me / @kasimirfrei​​

The first invitation is merely the illusion of one.

But the foundation of things needn’t always be real. It only needs to be enough.

Deep into the foregone past, a philosophy club meeting pauses for its regular break, and as always, Eres is all too eager to take it.

He’s had his decent meal of the day. He’s been able to shower and brush his teeth. He’s had shelter for a few hours. Now all that remains is to find a place where he can sleep, and that shouldn’t be too difficult. He has no more need for this place. If it weren’t for the necessity of keeping the Master’s favor and its accompanying guarantee of his own survival, Eres would leave right this second.

Yet he doesn’t. He can’t.

The thought darkens his gaze with disdain, stilling it on a nondescript point beyond a dozen interlocked legs as the other members rise from their seats and begin to disperse.

It’s been a long time since the days of the Unbound, yet he still hasn’t shed his keen awareness of the appraisal of others. He can feel it now, despite all the empty seats greeting his gaze as he finally raises it from the floor.

Instinctively, he looks to the side. His eyes latch onto Frei’s.

He’s been watching him. He’s always watching him. In a maddening sort of way, it’s nothing short of amusing for Eres; that he’s granted such reverence, in so much abundance, during a time that’s only rendered it so meager in its importance. He still hungers for it. He’s still satisfied by it. Only those sentiments are now as dulled as everything else in his upheaval-struck life.

Frei shines. In his appraisal, restrained and mesmerized all at once. In his words, free-flowing and impassioned. In his presence, reserved at times and utterly gripping in others. In an absentminded, peripheral sense, Eres is aware of it all, yet he’s either unwilling or unable to see it. He doesn’t care to understand his own perspective. He only cares for the blood and the cage bars with which his vision is overtaken.

He stands up, then passes by Frei as he heads for the exit, sparing him a sideways glance and nothing more.

It’s not an invitation by any means, yet it’s not a rejection of the prospect, either.

Outside, he settles against the brick wall beside the entrance, hands tucked deep beyond the sleeves of his sweatshirt, arms loosely crossed against his chest and head tipped up towards the sky.

Cigarette smoke slowly envelopes the stars, and Eres blinks. A fair distance away, Frei stands at his side, face veiled by pallid mist.

Eres traces it until it inexplicably coaxes words out of him.

They talk idly for the duration of the break. Somehow they always wind up talking or crossing paths. It’s another thing that remains trapped in his periphery, uncared for and uninvestigated. Yet he doesn’t mind the pointless little facts he grows to learn about Frei, in that moment and across the span of the countless meaningless encounters that follow.

All that matters is that he rarely offers anything in return.

-

A lifetime later, in a house riddled with teeth made serrated by so many secrets, they find each other tugged by the same rhythm — only it’s starkly different this time; coated in colors and highlighted by the same hunger that’s never been quenched.

The invitation that comes forth this time around is true, sprung upon them both with spontaneity and surprise alike — the former limited to Eres’ end as he abruptly disrupts the silence of a companionable moment between them, leaning towards Kasimir and whispering, “Let’s go somewhere.”

He’s met with questions, hesitation, and ultimately, acquiescence, and he’s grinning as he tips his head towards the door in a cue for Kasimir to follow him.

He most likely would have, anyway. At first, Eres believes that the conviction is the root of his thrill — but in fact, it’s the question of it; the newly-drudged mystery of Kasimir Frei as the unwavering Magpie, who he’s become so many years beyond the Master’s grasp, and whether or not he has the same fodder to offer for Eres’ resurrected appetites.

After much aimless prowling under Eres’ lead, they wind up on the rooftop of the townhouse, Kasimir sat in a dusty picnic chair while Eres stands tilted against the balustrade, inclined so his sight is absorbed with Kasimir and the stars in equal parts.

He believed that he sought Kasimir out only for what he can take from him, yet in the end, he offers a lot more than he steals. He asks him questions. He inquires about his opinions. At one point, he even dares to interrupt their conversation by running his index in a barely-there skirt along the space between Kasimir’s brows, smoothing a frown that seems perpetually etched in. It’s meant to be mischievous, goading, plucking at boundaries that Eres is only ever tempted to bend — and it’s all of those things, indeed, but it’s also a gesture of comfort; surprising to both of them, yet not entirely unexpected.

After all, such is the way of demigods and their disciples, is it not?

Eres will go on to wonder about that, again chasing after the mystery — as though it outweighs all the reverence he could ever relish.

-

Far into the future that stands predetermined and uncertain as ever, they find themselves tugged again, though it’s unclear whether they’re standing together or at odds.

A lot lies unspoken between them, tangled up amidst so much that’s been said, avowed, and exchanged. Eres deliberately seeks Kasimir out this time, and unlike all the times before, there’s little deliberation and indulgence behind his words — merely impulse and a desire for companionship as he asks, “Want to go somewhere?”

It’s not a demand, or an assertion, or an expectation. It’s a simple request.

Neither of them acknowledge the shift it stirs beneath them; the way it places them on equal footing with no pedestal in-between — or perhaps they do acknowledge it, in a manner dictated by the inevitable plummet from the divine into the mundane.

Perhaps Kasimir follows.

Perhaps he doesn’t.

The invitation remains, alongside all the others that came before it.