rosekiller microfic -- green (aug 6) | @rosekillermicrofic
(๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ Word Count: 955 tags: slight violence. i'd reccomend reading the previous part linked here, or you might be a tad confused, so sorry!!
ᓚᘏᗢ ...
To see Barty on his knees, cradling and pressing his head into the thighs of another man was implicating evidence. It was the kind of news that took any prospects off his portfolio, shunning him to an uphill battle of, “I am who I am, I can’t change that,” with his father.
But to Evan, it felt green. That feeling of colour when you can breathe or something has been shoved down your system like water. It proved that some emotions and feelings had colours; that was how Evan felt. Green.
This colour, however, was not the colour that rose onto Evan’s face as Barty’s fingers pulled his from his hair and onto his cheeks, begging for forgiveness. A red tinge stained his cheeks as he felt Barty’s hot tears drip onto his fingers, and he wanted to wipe them off.
Unfortunately, the days Evan wiped Barty’s tears had been long and gone. Now his pride refused to let him indulge in destroying himself. So, he looked at the sky.
There were practically no bright lights blocking out the stars, but some six-odd years of pollution changed the way it looked. There wasn’t even much light in the alleyway where they stood. It was a large alleyway with lamp posts towards the farthest wall and one on the opposite side.
It was dry but musty with little mud, and perhaps that was why Barty was so comfortable kneeling. Evan found it easy to slide into his thoughts rather than face the man before him.
“Evan, please.” Barty cried softly. “I won’t do it ever again. I swear it.”
A beat passed and Evan waited, starting to understand the meaning of his words. Nothing came as easy to Barty as lying. He told the truth, yes. But when was the truth, not the truth? It was when you didn’t know what the lie could be. It was when the truth became the only tangible thing in your relationship. But Evan had learned how to discern the truth from a lie, and he was damn good at it.
But that was not a lie. And as much as it pained Evan to hand Barty that satisfaction, it pained him more that he was ready to give Barty that satisfaction. He was ready to throw away months of hatred just for some sweet moments in Barty’s arms.
Evan slid his fingers from Barty’s downcast face to grip his jaw. He finally brought himself to look down at the mess before him.
“How dare you cry at my feet? And swear the truth to me?” Barty was now afraid to meet those angry but softened blue eyes.
Evan continued to speak softly. “Nothing good comes out from your lips, Barty. You know that. Nothing good comes out of your actions. You called me here to see you. To talk to you. And you kneel down at my feet after parading a woman that looks just like me. How dare you?”
As Evan spoke, Barty’s heart picked up just at the words Evan was saying, finally addressing him. He was glad to say that Evan still wanted to hear him out.
“But—” Suddenly, the need to explain himself presided over.
“Don’t. You shouldn’t be trying to explain yourself. You can only keep fucking up.” Evan dropped his hand from Barty’s jaw and his face couldn’t stand to meet Barty’s as he rose to his feet.
Barty, with unmatched bravery, reached out for Evan’s hand which was pulled away before contact. Barty reached out again but this time, a pain bloomed in his jaw. A kind of familiar pain that he only could recall feeling back in his boarding school days.
So many bottled-up feelings were released into that punch and Evan could finally breathe. The green feeling had subsequently faded into a soft red. Now, he could truly hear Barty out.
“You can talk now,” Evan said as he watched Barty rub over his jaw and keep his eyes on the ground. He soon recovered because he was finally able to see eye to eye with Evan. They could be on even ground. But Evan knew that that punch was nothing compared to the full beatdown he wanted to give Barty.
“Do you want to hit me?”
Evan found that he had nothing green left in his system. “No. Not anymore.”
“Then can you forgive me?” How brash Barty was to pose these questions so quickly.
“I’m not sure.”
Together, they felt the air go sour between them. “Will you at least have me? Can you take me back?”
Evan stared into Barty’s seemingly black eyes for long seconds. No.
“Fuck you. I’m going home.” Evan readjusted his white shirt and smoothed out his khakis when he walked away and left Barty standing there with his hands at his side.
He only got as far as the back door with his hands in his pockets before he turned around to meet Barty right behind him. It was now or never. If he left this space, this space where his emotions became so real, he was not certain where else he would be able to act on it.
They stood at the same height, Barty and Evan. Similar build even, with their lean figures. But it was horrific how perfectly they fit together life-cut puzzle pieces. On their own, nothing made sense. Wasn’t that why Evan showed up? Because he needed clarity?
Evan pressed his lips to Barty, catching Barty’s lower lip in the process but did not let that kiss last for more than a minute. A long minute.
But Evan might’ve taken Barty back if that green feeling hadn’t come back. Perhaps it was blue this time. Sad.
