The voice sent ice down his already frozen spine, stopping his blood cold while lips curled to show teeth, animal and feral towards the man he believed betrayed him. Choosing sides in a war between childhood friends, Kay had always crossed Ben of his list after he’d been forgotten, leaving him alone with his buffet of problems while Ben set of into the sunset with Gerda. The resentment had only grown throughout the years, and for a while Kayden had sworn to himself he didn’t care what happened to the boy — but when his life once more turned itself topsy turvy and Kay found himself childless and without love, petty childhood feuds seemed like nothing more than sand in the desert, meaningless. He had enough things to hate in the world now, and Ben wasn’t one of them.
Sober at least.
Coming down from a high seemed to be a different story, the pent up rage within him manifesting back into the hatred for the child that left him all those ears ago. Breaking out in a cold sweat he stood, unsteady on his feet while fists clenched and unfolded, then right back again, the heartbeat in his hands throbbing in his ears. “The fuck happened to me?” He spat, stepping forward a stumbled step of wayward limbs and disjointed movements. “The fuck do you care?”
Kay stopped and stared at him, clenching his eyes shut to stop the world from spinning, to stop himself from feeling like he was falling off the face of the earth in aching need. His veins burned within him, ice melting into fire that licked at his thoughts, his needs, consuming him in raw want for more. His hands itched to reach into his pocket, but he wouldn’t, not with Ben there. “Run along to Gerda, Ben, just like you always do.”
He almost laughed when Kay spat his words at him. God, he looked a mess. Anger bubbled up defensively from Ben's chest to his throat, but he bit it back, swallowing it down and glancing up and down the street. At least they appeared to be alone, and he figured that Kay chose this spot for a reason. Ben wouldn't be proud to be found in this state, either.
He took a hesitant step forward, his palms raised slightly. He didn't blame Kay for not wanting him there. It had been Ben that turned his back on Kay, not the other way around, and he honestly didn't really have an excuse. Kay wasn't exactly wrong, here, Ben had followed Gerda like a lost puppy, picking sides in a dumb fight that wasn't even his own. But Gerda wasn't here, and Kay was, and all it boiled down to was the fact that he'd been his best friend once and he'd be damned if he left him to rot in the gutter.
"Jesus, Kay," he muttered, grimacing as Kay's face crumbled in, all movements seeming almost inhuman. It was an ugly sight. He didn't know what to do. His instincts were telling him to turn and leave, to stop provoking him with his presence and to leave him to deal with his own problems. But his mind, his mind pointed out that he had stopped before the man for a reason, and Ben wasn't the kind of person not to follow it through to the end. "You need to go home, Kay. You look dead."
