@altosk — The Days Before “Schwann”
The quiet echo of porcelain against porcelain as teacup and saucer met the table below was a subtle gesture; one Alexei hoped might lure Damuron from his trance and out of that stiff and worn down infirmary bed, and instead to the small side table atop which sat tea and pastries Alexei hoped the other could manage to stomach.
It had been far too long since his last meal. No doubt, a part of Alexei worried the other intended to starve himself to death; yet the fact remained that Damuron had ample opportunity to take his own life in the days up until now, and never did. It was enough to convince Alexei that the other had at least some will to live.
There was an added relief in knowing he now held onto the device in direct control of Damuron’s life, convinced that it was less likely he’d walk through that door to find him lying there dead a second time, but he wasn’t so foolish to believe he was out of the woods just yet.
No. Alexei really had no idea what might still happen.
He sympathized with Damuron’s plight, but it wasn’t enough to merely guess how he felt. Having not experienced the same loss firsthand, he found it difficult to conceive exactly what emotions he must be experiencing. Even now he still struggled to get a gauge on the other’s mental state.
Some days Damuron would leave the infirmary out of the blue without a single word of warning, opting to stroll aimlessly about the castle multiple times a day, yet still speaking a word to no one. Other days, he refused to leave his bed at all, simply sitting there, wasting away like an empty husk. Today, quite clearly, fell into the latter.
Never before had Alexei found it so difficult to speak.
For a man of Alexei’s stature, silence would normally serve as a most welcome comrade. With it came the ease to focus, regardless of the task, whether it be an onslaught of paperwork or the meticulous planning before a meeting. Even outside of work, silence would serve to calm his nerves and help him to recharge. It had always been a peace he enjoyed; but silence felt much heavier these days.
Each moment would only lead him to question himself further.
Was he misguided in believing he could truly bring back the dead?
Was it even the right thing to do?
Perhaps it was simply torture.
Damuron claimed he did not resent him for his choices, yet Alexei found himself wondering if he even deserved such solace. Damuron may truly have been better off dead. He was alive now only because of Alexei’s own selfishness, yet still Alexei sat here, convinced that he might be able to rest easier, were Damuron to take even one small bite of food.
He needed that small victory.
“I won’t force you,” Alexei compelled himself to break through the silence at last, gesturing to the tea and pastries before him.
“…But you are welcome to join me.”
