Closed Virtus Virtutis pv Nikolai

Interacting as Nikolai Volka with Hans Jenssen @Archer Duncan

Look chill, be chill, he can't possibly know. These were just some of the many racing thoughts that swept up Nikolai's mind in a whirlpool as Hans burst through the door of his tent like a bullet clear in his intentions and possessed by some force of necessity. Casually turning to face him he allowed his hands to slip behind his back careful to make sure it looked nothing more than a nonchalant resting position with a leisurely smile to perfect the ruse. When in truth, hidden beneath the innocent surface, the act spoke of deceit and betrayal beyond all measure... he was hiding the stolen jumper under his bedsheets so as to avoid any repercussions or far worse, any awkward questions. Given the revelation of the night the last thing Nikolai needed was Hans to think he stole his jumper in some kind of crazed infatuation.

Far more serious were the next thoughts to enter his brain and far more worrying he found them to be as they mirrored Hans' own tone. Nikolai had all but forgone hope that Hans would ever speak to him again, likely because hope in such cases only fostered disappointment but the German was never one to not rise to the challenge. In the dance it had been so spontaneous a decision he hadn't realised until after, the burden it may place on their friendship and yet here he sat at a time so late it told a tale of hours spent struggling over how best to approach. It was almost concerning in a gentle kind of way when the typically boisterous tone of the confident lad came out with a weight and gravitas far beyond the level he knew Hans found comfortable.

"Nikolai" it was all the boy said for a moment and yet the word weighed heavy in the air as if capable of dismantling the tent itself with whatever unravelling its follow up may possess. In the darkness of the early morning lit only by the spectacularly shining constellations above them Hans dark eyes were barely visible and yet deeply they bored down into his very soul. Yet as the stars above caught his face a glint reawakened in the Germans' eyes and with a gentleness not commonly used he led Nikolai out into the open air. There were too many reasons to account for why Hans wanted to do this outside and all of them calculated in the young Russian's head as poor. There it was again, that desperate suppression of hope to protect his already fragile heart from being crushed any further and yet still he followed into the frosted night. Like a lamb to the slaughter he would trail slightly behind Hans trying to keep his breath steady and quelling emotions so to not embarrass himself further.

For a moment there in the dark expanse of the Quidditch field there wasn't a single sound. The world around his enveloped him in that darkness and swallowed his mind whole infecting every scenario with the worst of outcomes. The silence was torture for a hyperactive brain and at the current moment Nikolai had nothing to do but wallow in the crashing train of thought. Finding themselves at a bench a little way from the Durmstrang tents he sat where in the spot Hans had so gentlemanly cleared for him. Staring at what was nothing more than the silhouette of his friend, someone that had just begun to become so very important to the boy, he couldn't help but commit every second to memory. If this was to be one of their last he could at least savour it in it's intensity. Then came the near blinding light of Lumos and as Hans swung his legs up Nikolai could feel that intensity in the stare of the boy willing him to initiate what was surely their final scene. Mirroring his companion Nikolai shifted towards him folding his legs under himself in a basket, he dared not meet the boys eyes, not yet, for it was impossible to hide the devastation he knew lay in his own.

Slowly his head rose and the pools of Hans eyes were dark swirling orbs of seriousness that stripped Nikolai of his defences and had words falling from his lips in an uncontrollable mess, "I'm guessing by now you've probably worked out that this was the reason my family disowned me," a bare anguished look of vulnerability shooting at him under the glow of the lit wand before he continued, "I lost everything to gain freedom and in it gained more than I ever thought possible but I understand if it makes you uncomfortable or if you hate me for it like they do." Intuition flaring he could practically feel the interjection Hans was about to make but raising his voice and hand a dangerous quality flashing in his eyes he spoke again, "No please let me finish, then you can say whatever you need or we can go our separate ways and return to the way we were before."

If the unrelenting boy agreed and let him continue he would say, "I never asked to be different, just like I never asked to be a Volkov but the difference is this isn't a part of me I feel badly about any longer. For the first time ever I get to be completely myself and I happen to like the person I'm discovering, a person you have helped me discover I can be. So I'm sorry I lied, or hid the truth or whatever but I could have broken that day from their response and yet here I stand proud and I think that's a pretty great thing. You played a bigger part in that than you even know, with your unnerving confidence you inspired me even when I couldn't bare to speak to you. Couldn't bare to speak to anyone. But just as I can't be something I'm not neither should you so if it's too much then I'll talk with the headmistress and I'm sure we can get our rooms moved, its probably something we should've thought of years ago." Catastrophising with a pain that was so clearly evident not only from the wetness that gathered under his eyes but from the dimness of them, nothing quelled the lightning blue storm quite like this hurt. When he was in his moment of deepest grief his eyes became a most lifeless shade of grey, a hollow quality to them as the storm clouds that usually streaked out in flashes of electric blue now settled in darkened shades of soulless monochrome.

All he found himself able to do was drop his head in defeat as he finished, breaking that palpable tension that grew with every statement, every word. Nikolai was too wrapped up in his defeat and pain to recognise the truth that shone in the ebony eyes above him.

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

‘Okay.’

A sole word uttered softly in self-collection was all Hans said in response to Nikolai’s lengthy confession. Underwhelming perhaps, unexpected definitely, for a boy often of far too many words. Yet shall Nikolai’s comprehension skills prove worthy, he would sense the multiple layers behind the mere three syllables. What Hans meant to express was impossible to put into proper words not solely because they were too great for speech but also because he never had before. Although under unpleasant circumstances, a first attempt with Nikolai was a notion he was willing to entertain.

Features softening as the light tipping Hans’ wand reflected the watery edges of the Russian’s eyes, now devoid of hope in their lifeless monochrome, he nodded. Pausing as further words failed him, he shook his head lightly and found his feet back on the ground as he leaned in towards Nikolai. Without a second more of hesitation, he pulled the boy into an embrace, arms tight against the blond’s tensed back. The hug was a stark contrast to the one they had shared during their brief meeting in the Mistletoe Spin, so despite any initial resistance that may have occurred, he allowed for Nikolai to fall into him, lowered head nudging Hans’ neck and shoulders. Firmly gripping the duellist’s slender build, his hands clutched onto Nikolai’s clothes in a fashion that would surely leave undesired folds as a consequence. Any tears he shed would seep into Hans’ pullover but he could not have cared less in those precious seconds. Blinking several times, those coffee eyes gazed into the distance, sweeping over the faraway and - despite the lateness of the night - carnivalesque arrangement of brightly various tents.

Only then, as the noise and revel faded into a deafening silence, did Nikolai’s words, laced with a thick layer of despair, sink in. He had practically poured his most vulnerable and unfiltered thoughts out into the German, as if it was clear water from a pitcher. For as they had easily dismissed the events that fateful evening regarding Nikolai’s eviction through a plethora of flames, so had Hans forgotten the weight behind his dorm mate’s well-concealed aching. As liberating as watching every horrid remnant of his fractured life go up in blazes must have been, it was the day he had lost every part of him he thought he knew as well. The cold, distant persona he had upheld had been all but stripped away and perhaps this was cause for Hans to wonder whether, despite all the qualities for the new Nikolai, if this version of him was truly easier to live within. He had kept his pain hidden for so long already. How could Hans know if it would ever be truly gone?

His tentative flitting gazes that barely connected to Hans’ eyes had seemed all too similar to that of the hare, petrified in front of the huntsmen, awaiting the shot of the rifle. Did Hans remember what those eyes used to look like? A sharp, piercing, crackling storm? Ash-grey clouds streaked with blue flashes of lightning? Not as zestful, not as vibrant as they were now, but at least they had been tearless. If the price to pay for being alive was to suffer the accompanying agony, how much of the population could afford to truly live? Never had the young man in his arms seemed so foreign, this teary-eyed boy he barely knew. Even when the marble statue had crumbled to dust, Nikolai had always been a quick learner, picking up swiftly and adopting his own understanding of Hans’ boldly cool demeanour. Was this sincerely exposed Nikolai the one he loved as a brother or had he lived in a world of masks for far too long? Whether he was aware of it or not, the own mask Hans wore seemed to have blended into his flesh, becoming, in a horrifying depiction of what seemed like witchcraft, a part of him. How much of him was himself and how much who he wanted others to see him as?

Therefore, in another universe, Hans might have interrupted Nikolai’s unstringed trail of admission with a sharp contradiction otherwise, despite the boy’s warning against. It was the boisterous, the unrestrained, the sometimes inconsiderate side of him, but as much as he would have liked to think of himself has a two-sided coin or a double-edged sword, such responses that crossed his mind had simply been players in a persona he invited others to perceive - a charade if you will, as surreal as magic had seemed to be when he was still a careless lad in Berlin. Go their separate ways, Nikolai had said. Return to the way they were before. The question now presenting itself was none other than whether Hans would have cared the slightest if that had happened. The Hoffman twins Christoph and Erika, the ever-present presence beside him seemed to be strangers as he tried to forget them, knowing holding a guillotine to their friendship would be so much easier than tearing them away from him fibre by fibre. Even his parents now seemed to be irrelevant shadows in his life, too fearful of wizardry, too terrified of the unpredictable, too afraid of their own son. Who were they but inconveniences compared to Opa¹, the man who could offer Hans anything? Forgetting Nikolai and the past months would be all too unexacting compared to the two former feats. Perhaps it would even have been appealing.

How long, however, would it take for Hans to realise that, just as Nikolai sought to dispose of the person he used to be, the German would need to follow in his footsteps? How long would it take for Hans to learn to appreciate every soul that raised him up, even the ones who never seemed to have explicitly done so - especially them? How long would it take for him to not just love but more so give? He never asked to be different, Nikolai had said and no matter how special he was to the blond, typicality was all that subconscious part of Hans strove to be. He could think of himself as the most glorious of his peers but in truth it was evident all was just thought. Being different in this world was not to be tolerated and would have scared him if he ever counted the opportunities snuffed due to this. The difference was no longer a part of him he felt bad about, Nikolai had said, but as much as he would attempt to embrace his own differences, how could he, when Hans was yet to discover what his own difference even was?

The figures of both friends and strangers were mere shadows in the distance. Even the most peculiar of shapes seemed to have blended into each other. After all, everyone on Earth were the same and even if they were not, would that truly be a positive? Yet... Hans might never be extraordinary but if it was because he never tried he would never forgive himself, even when his family and friends stressed time and time again how much they still loved him. He had been presented with far more opportunities in life than he had acknowledged. Opa had been a way out of his pragmatic routine, Valentin had been a route to athletic glory, and Nikolai?- Nikolai had once more proven himself to be a bruder² to Hans. He had not fully accepted both of the former for the time being but could he bare to deny the latter? The most peculiar sensation greeted him as salty teardrops pricked at his own eyes, threatening to seep out. The light from his wand was too bright. The light from his wand was too bright. Blinking them back before they could fall onto Nikolai's shirt, he closed his eyes against it. Clenching his fists against the silken fabric of his dorm mate’s suit, his breath came out soft as he allowed his lips to tug into a smile in an attempt to reassure himself. He knew he was meant to be the pillars of support in their brotherhood. If only for Nikolai, Hant would not allow himself to crumble. Thanks but no thanks, he was all good for now.

With the tidal wave of thoughts wreaking havoc in his mind, Hans would hold onto Nikolai for as long as the blond desired and for both their sakes too, it seemed.

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai

1: Grandpa
2: brother

Interacting as Nikolai Volka with Hans Jenssen @Archer Duncan

Unto a broken heart
No other one may go
Without the high prerogative
Itself hath suffered too.
-Emily Dickinson

If ever he was sure of an emotion it was now. This was heartbreak.

It was but a word, just 3 simple syllables, nothing poetic, nothing complex, and yet there it lingered ladened in more layers than seemed feasible. An eternity stretched in the strain of those syllables that landed their mortal wound on the ice prince. To Nikolai the silence was deafening, for he knew it all too well. "Be quiet and do not speak a word of this to your brothers, or be warned." It had been the last thing his parents had said before 3 days of confinement within his room and yet here in total freedom the silence still stole the very air around them. Perhaps he would never escape its gnarled fingered grasp, every relationship he made would fall to the reliance of his revelation and how many would the silence claim.

Still lost in catastrophising his mind briefly considered leaving and yet before his body had time to react he felt himself pulled into the embrace of his silent dormmate. What did any of this mean? confusion actualizing within his head in a howling cacophony of discordance that left no room for logic and only proved to derail him further. Yet physicality was not so easily obscured by doubt and held under the pressure of Hans' arms there was solidarity, there was warmth, there was brotherhood. Overwhelmed and unprepared to belief his intuition he did all that his body would allow and tears flooded icicles renewing his eyes with their icy colour for a moment while drenching the soft cotton of his pullover.

Time blended with emotion until neither felt particularly real, in fact the very notion of reality had been detached in Hans' grasp. Who was the boy that held him, how did he feel and why couldn't anything ever just be simple. Everything in his life always had to be an uphill climb, had to be some kind of obstacle to overcome or box he had to fit in and he was so unbelievably tired of it. This was supposed to be his time to soar and yet still the unyielding bonds of his family managed to burn him as if held by an unbreakable vow. Perhaps had he listened to them he could have avoided this heartache and yet until he rejected their prison his heart failed to beat. The great poets would likely say pain is the price we pay to love but there had to be a limit.

In his suffering the tears only flowed harsher and soaked deeper until he was practically convulsing held together only by the supporting arms of his friend, or whatever Hans now was. The noise was overwhelming as, ironically, was the silence and both combined was far too much to bare. Summoning as much might as possible he attempted to wrestle free of the grasp so that he may stand and face his trial head on. Words and actions were conflicting and in the battlefield of his head an answer, any answer was required or he would combust. Whether he freed himself or not he found his gaze levelled on the brunette eyes burning with seeking and a familiar blue tint of determination electrifying the iris. Yet in the warmth of his melting chocolate stare Nikolai's mind hesitated, lips quivering.

Taking in every inch of Hans expression as if it may be for the last time he brought his hands up clawing his cheeks of the stained watermarks that lined his face and eyes. Then silently, barely above a whisper his heart spoke what his head wouldn't allow, "Hans, I don't want to lose you. Not when we haven't even begun to know each other yet." There was such raw emotion to it he couldn't help but choke on the words. Then bringing his hands together in front of his mouth he closed the storm away behind his eyelids before making one final desperate plea. It was unclear in the fog of chaos that warped his mind who the plea was to, Hans, the world or even the gods were all candidates yet one thing was clear. Nikolai was beseeching with every fibre of hope he had left, "Я не хочу терять еще одного брата" "I don't want to lose another brother."

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

If I was dying on my knees, you would be the one to rescue me.
And if you were drowned at sea, I'd give you my lungs so you could breathe.
I've got you brother, I've got you brother.

- Brother, Kodaline

Hans leaned back as Nikolai broke free of his embrace. Despite the brief mere moments the Russian had laid his hand on his brother's shoulders, the German seemed to have grown used to his harsh current of tears. They were home, so much more a home than his flat in Berlin, so much more a home than even the arms of his grandfather, for his home was not a fixed locale but rather the friends he brought with him. His eyes followed Nikolai. The returned gaze. The moment of hesitation. The quivering lips. The stare as if it was his final sight of the boy. The hands to quickly moved to wipe away tears. The whispers that tugged at both their hearts. 'Я не хочу терять еще одного брата.' I don't want to lose another brother. They were words Nikolai had barely said after scraping together what was left in him and heartbreakingly, Hans could tell. He was not the boy he once knew, but Hans would get to know him anew if the situation called for it. I don't want to lose another brother.

'And you won't,' Hans said, voice steady and tone dead serious. His eyes locked with Nikolai's fragmented icy blue. Perhaps they would not get as deep as blood vows today, but if Nikolai was headed to death, Hans would follow, and not just because of his reckless daredevil heart. But there were words he had not said, a hidden, unvoiced fear like the many others he had stowed away in invisible cupboards. As long as I don't lose you. It would stay unvoiced.

'Hey,' Hans said softly. He was at home here. Nikolai was at home here. 'Breathe,' he encouraged, as if speaking to a bawling child who had just dropped their ice cream. Yet his voice had none of the derogatory derision that sometimes crept into his speech, only sincere concern from the bottom of his small heart. He had never stopped to think before, had never put unnamed feelings into doubtful words. Yet today it shone clearer than ever. Today it fought to be known. Today it could not stay inside his chest cavity any longer. He had been blessed without ever acknowledging it, but he would not disregard it any longer. He loved Nikolai. And today it was statement ending in a confident full stop, no longer plagued by the ambiguous question mark. So, 'Breathe,' Hans said once more, slowly, gently, though this time he could not tell who it was directed at anymore.

Following on his own instructions and taking a breath himself, Hans murmured, 'Fuck this stupid world,' with a shake of the head, eyes turning away from Nikolai's as disgust drained all good cheer out of those coffee brown swirls. Any traces of soft melting warmness disappeared under shattering hatred - hatred he was careful not to direct at his sorrowful dorm mate. 'Fuck this stupid world!...' he said again, voice rising until he trailed off. His grip on Nikolai's shoulders tightened, breath steadying as he returned his gaze to him. Hans had allowed this world to shape him into who he was today, but Nikolai was holding so strong against the rioting storms and for that he was so immensely proud of the Russian. Voice barely a whisper, love and care seeped into every syllable of his slow words nevertheless, 'It doesn't deserve you.' Not him. Not this sankt¹ of a boy. Not Nikolai. Yet he must have seen worse horror shows than Hans could ever imagine.

'Nikolai. Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me,' Hans said, tone fervid and hurried, as if afraid that the boy would do otherwise. His last words almost broke as flames ached through his veins, their only output the helpless emphasis. 'You don't need to go through that shitty storm for the rainbow anymore. We can sit down and take a prism and fucking make it.' They would make it, and if Nikolai said there were ten colours in the rainbow, he would agree. Perhaps he felt immature, naïve, foolish, but if he could be a fool for anyone in that intoxicating moment, it was Nikolai. He was not accustomed with vulnerability, both from him and his dorm mate... and none of this would have happened if that dorm mate was not Nikolai. Hans had thought he was Durmstrang's greatest curse, when truly he was life's greatest blessing instead.

Ironically, as if the heavens had just heard Hans' complaints about storms, rain pelted down onto them without warning. It was fresh, clean rain, that fully washed away all of Nikolai's salty tears. Raising his arms in a drunken glee, Hans pushed back his pullover's hood, head raised as the water wetted his hair and clothes. Eyes dancing with pure elation, a grin split across his lips, a wild, raw, and utterly true smile. Grabbing his dorm mate's arm, he leapt up from his seated position, gesturing for Nikolai to do the same. Raising his head to the stormy skies as droplets dripped down his cheeks, all that carried him forward was a torrent of pure emotion, unable to be formed into words other than the flashing warning of: incoming flood. Hurried voices. Anxious voices. Dam's gonna break. Dam's gonna break.... Let it. 'Ich hab’ dich lieb²!' he screamed, surfing high on a wave of passion. As the quietude of the night broke, Hans turned to Nikolai with ecstasy written on every inch of his face. Let it. 'I have love for you,' he translated, although he was sure his voice had already been practically dripping with such love. Gripping onto Nikolai's arms, his delight must have resembled a child's first birthday cake. 'So let me love you,' voice never as ardent as today. Fucking let it. 'I love you. I love you. I love you,' he shouted the glorious declaration three times over, in Russian, in English, in German. He would say it in every damn language if he could. He felt as if he had never repeated a phrase this many times in his life. Hans pulled the blond closer to him, falling over as he lost to their own momentum. Water soaked into his clothing but he indulged in every second of it, rolling over until his hands found Nikolai's chest. 'I fucking love you, Братишка³.'

1: saint
2: an expression of platonic love in German
3: brother

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol'ka

Interacting as Nikolai Volka with Hans Jenssen @Archer Duncan

The power of words was always astounding. How soothing a simple 7 letter word could be. "Breathe." How much it could cradle the pain overwhelming every sense. Or was it less the word and more the orator that held such power. Staring across at the boy half a year ago he would have sworn despised him he was taken aback by the sincerity and gentle manner he was displaying. It was unlike anything he had ever seen from the boy, in this moment their was no quick quip, no punchline waiting to land, reflected in the dark brown swirls of Hans eyes was unfiltered raw emotion. Though the boy may not be able to express himself in words like Nikolai his entire body exerted that same truth that lay between them. They were brothers until the end, no matter what.

Lined in the pauses of silence Nikolai knew the words to have been as resoundingly true as his own confession. Gnawing scars that had ate at him for his whole life were beginning to heal sutured by the knowledge that there were people in his life that cared deeply enough about him to take on the whole world. Watching eyes agape in awe as Hans took on the very heavens in his defence. Burning in Hans own eyes was such a resounding streak of honesty that Nikolai hardly knew what to do with and yet he felt emboldened with strength coursing through his veins from the words. Hans wanted him to stay and it made the entire world's cruelty, all the agonising moments he had been forced to endure pale in comparison to the happiness he was overwhelmed with in the moment.

The rain was as emotional metaphorical as Hans' analogy and as it poured it washed away the stain of tears lacing Nikolai's cheeks until his whole face was literally cleansed. Hans had told him he needn't wait for the rainbow anymore and he was right because in front of him dazzling in every colour of the spectrum of light was the very arch itself in physical form. Nikolai had been in a storm for so long but finally he was finding his lighthouse and it was beckoning him home, this time a true one. His rainbow must have felt the same as an untamed grin of pure elation stretched across the tightness of his smile transforming it into a vision of joy while his hair was drowned by the same cleansing waters.

Firm now in realisation that he would follow Hans to the end of the world and back there was not a fraction of hesitation in joining him on the bench. Nikolai hadn't needed to be fluent in German to understand the words he had been afforded and yet as the translation came through his face practically broke like years of tension that he had been holding, each and every mask he had upheld suddenly shattered all at once in the most beautiful release. The young boy found himself practically cackling with laughter utterly entranced in the perfection of the moment. With every repetition Nikolai only broke further from the hold those years of isolation and self sabotage had created and he was blessed to see the pure ebullience that took hold of every fibre of Hans.

As they fell nothing but the most truthful laughter filled the silence as for the first time two boys who had known each other since they were only 10 years old finally got to truly be children together. It was a moment so uncontaminated and genuine it would settle a permanent fixture upon his brain. Then a hand found his chest and Nikolai was sure Hans would be unable to not feel the racing tempo of his heartbeat as it practically beat out of his chest. With eyes locked in nothing but trust and comfort he spoke the most authentic words he had ever heard from the boy. As they passed Nikolai felt his heart skip as the word around him stopped. Every drop of rain slowed as he focused on the taller boy who lay next to him. At what moment Hans had matured enough for this conversation or whether it had always been there under the surface he had no idea. But as the drops of water fell upon him even in the darkness of night he saw Hans for the new light he possessed and it took his breath away.

Slowly with his entire body the 0nce stiff boy melted into the moment as the warm summer rain caressed his stone skin cracking it to reveal the geode below. Rising his hand up to rest upon that of his dormmate he poured the electrical currents of his eyes into Hans and said, "I love you too, Братишка." A single breathe came to him once again and then another until he was breathing normally once more and yet he was sure something had changed. The whole summer had been buiding to it but for the first time Nikolai was sure he was finally understanding the difference between surviving and living. "Thank You", a small mutter in the silence between them but in it a thousand words lay between each letter.

Laying in the grass Nikolai let the moment linger for a moment and then when the time was right and they had settled into their new roles, their relationship miles developed he would let go of his hand.

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

Five words he would have known in any case, yet still five words he relished in hearing. Five words he had no doubt in, but five words warmer than the summer dog days. His already brimming heart felt like it was overflowing, for they were not his mother’s conclusion after a fretful chastising, not his father’s affirmation after bringing pride once more, not even his grandfather’s constant doting. All he once thought were colourful washed away with the pouring downfall, dripping into a self-deprecating puddle of prosaic monotony, his young mind unable to fathom an emotion as strong or raw and unable to fathom anyone else as perfect as Nikolai to share it with. There was no reason to painfully keep conversations in delicate check with him, lingering in the shallow end and brushing off anything that ventured deeper than they should have. Having left behind the chameleonic playfellows of his boyhood, the dragon heart would be his true-blue North Star. Oddly yet beautifully, through whatever twists and turns of fate, he was someone Hans had chosen to, come hell or high water, love.

'You're welcome,' he responded, guileless smile marking his reply as more than just some generic pleasantry. The pulsating tempo of their hearts had slowed, settling down Hans' volume but never his emotion. 'Thank you,' Hans then said in return, 'You have lit up my world in ways I could not have imagined.' What was it about Nikolai that made him feel so invincible yet so unshielded? Alluring charisma was not a particular trait the boy exceeded in, but he did not need to employ wiles to make him feel at home. Through the years Nikolai had morphed into many renditions of himself, from the pompously distant Volkov heir, to the zestful, wondrous boy he had shared a dance with, and now this, someone even he could not put into words. After everything, the steadfast, unfiltered honesty of his brother would never fail to rouse admiration in him and inspire the same quality. His proclamations of love had been ones Hans yearned to express and finally everything was drawn into perfection as he did. He had entered this realm in hopes of mastering magic, yet tonight was a phenomenon no wizard could conjure.

Clasping Nikolai's hand as if it was his very anchor to this idealistic reality, the night felt too surreal to be actuality. A plethora of shapes unseen before, coloured in a rainbow of paints he could not name seemed to dance across his vision, manifesting their delightfully absurd concentration in a flawless combination within this unparalleled experience. They fell into quietude, the duo only accompanied by the liberating chorus of rainfall. It would have seemed uncharacteristic of Hans to not end their exchange with a punchline, to not lead Nikolai back to the tents, jesting about how he looked like a drowned rat. But he could not have complained, for even time itself seemed to have slowed in that moment, minutes stretched out into aeons, making way for their grand declarations. Unlike the deafening stillness that had plagued their cold hell of a dormitory for more than a year, tonight's one was not marked by tension. Rather, they shared a wordless understanding between them that did not require vocalisation. Silence was something Hans had always sought to break. Yet, for once, he did not mind the heavy weight it carried.

The stars were beaming down at them, sharing their utter elation, but tonight their eager light were pale in comparison to the sunshine lain facing each other. As Hans had said himself, out of all those stars in the sky, we only need the Sun to sustain life on this Earth. After a lifetime on a strict diet of starlight, the Heliotrope had finally turned his petals to face the blazing sun. And he could stay basking under Nikolai's radiance for an eternity.

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol'ka