Words Unspoken PV Hans Jenssen Finished

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

Ever since the explosions in Hogsmeade the slightest of actions seemed to have alerted Hans, but that had not been the reason why sleep was but a stranger for the last few days. The stubborn anxieties clouding his mind were unyielding to his body’s screams of exhaustion, and the latter would have been lucky to finally lull - or more often impel - the former to an uneasy drowse, like a tired mother trying to get her child into bed. Instead, most of his dreaded nighttime was spent silently watching Nikolai’s stitches as he tore away at the old fabric, and now without even that, looking into the nothingness in hope it would bring a stark contrast to the chaos muddling his mind. Every time he closed his eyes was one more time he saw the morbid light show; hell, he could even smell the smoke. His forehead was starting to hurt from sleeping too little, but at least the ache there was more forgiving than the one plaguing his head. Most nights he was just grateful for the darkness: tears slid down freely without anyone noticing, or perhaps it had just become a sight so common that no one bothered to care anymore.

Tonight was no different from any other and perhaps Hans should give up the notion of sleep entirely. There were drums pounding heavily in his head and hands suffocating his heart and the very thought of rest amongst such unrest seemed despicable. Having found an odd respite in the stinging cold outside he didn’t bother to throw on his Durmstrang-issued cloak as he rose unsteadily, white-knuckled hands gripping onto the post. Gaze lingering over his wand, the lad decided against brining it - after all the least he needed was a reminder of all the injustices in this world he once idolised. It shouldn’t take too long for him to realise how useless a piece of stick was against all the evils tainting his life. The wood creaked obnoxiously under his boots as he walked, and glancing back briefly with eyes seeped in morose he murmured a soft “goodnight” to whoever was still awake or cared enough to listen. As expected, he was greeted with only the delicate rustle of breath.

Of course, there he was, icy skin more ghostly than angelic. Drawing back the door to a familiar figure his eyes narrowed as suspicion settled over him. Despite the boy turned away from him he had no doubts regarding his identity. What struck Hans as unnatural however was the stealth that lined Nikolai’s movements and how Nikolai had frozen in retreat just as Hans exited. For the last unbearable days he had been watching over him but it had done nothing to chip away at how much silence pained him. Grief he could understand, Nikolai’s blatant evasion of him he could not. What was so hideous about the sight of him that would cause his own brother to flee? What border was lain so heavily between them that it seemed as if a solution was but a dream? What had he done that had not been from a position of love and protection? Even if it was sharing his woes - if only it was sharing his woes, so Hans could try to take them away - why, why would Nikolai not bear to speak even a word to him? Shifting uncomfortably in the ungainly air, Hans felt all the confidence he relied on wash out of him entirely. Finally gathering enough of the courage he so worshipped, spilt out surprisingly little words after all this time. “You’re up late,” he remarked curtly, willing indifference into his tone in a failed attempt to cover up the evident pain, then scowled at the sourness in his own voice.

“…Sorry.”

Now wishing he had a proper jacket to draw over himself, all he could manage was push up the sweater as he trudged past his friend forcing himself not to acknowledge the knife twisting deeply into his heart. Wiping away at the tears he desperately convinced himself was just result of the wind, the browned and dying grass suddenly became very interesting. Look anywhere but behind him, and if there were footsteps catching up to him he should just ignore it, it couldn’t be that hard. Hans didn’t know where he was going, he just felt so lost, as if the world had crashed into itself and the road towards light was no longer linear and simple but so long and twisting and stuck in this endless cycle of pain and suffering and he felt so trapped and in need of an escape but how could he, ignorant as ever, know a way out?

Breathe.

It was the long, rambling thoughts like such that made him want to wail into the unforgiving darkness. Like a homesick little boy he wanted to go home, though amongst all the chaos it was impossible to pinpoint what that word meant anymore. That ideal he had imagined atop the Scandinavian mountains, the familiar warmth of his Durmstrang dorm room, he would even be content with the crisp, clean scent of lavender air freshener his mother used. Somewhere without bombs or fighting or hatred, somewhere where he could just, for once, catch his breath. Just… anywhere he knew, anywhere but here. Turning back with evident remorse when he could not withstand the coldness of loneliness anymore his eyes were unwavering set on the blond.

If he was still there Hans would beckon for his brother to come. If not… so be it then, not like he could force the boy.

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol'ka

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞: 𝟐𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

Had Nikolai even meant to follow suit and run after him? Of course he had, deep down he knew it even if his heart yearned to deny it. It was the very reason for their fight, an inability to not run headfirst into danger after one another. Yet the truth remained clear to all, wherever Hans went Nikolai would follow and blatantly the former had proven it was a mutual sentiment. Mutually assured destruction, if Hans knew what he was to do Nikolai wouldn't have to check over his shoulder wondering if he was behind for the presence would be glaring obvious. He couldn't allow it, not again. He wasn't worth it.

While much had changed in the last half a year, Nikolai could not wash away the years of filth the Volkov name has thrust upon him. It wasn't possible not when he had taken no action to really make change. Kol'ka was singularly responsible for his own inaction and for allowing his family to continue reigning hell with crowns of darkness and for what. So that he could pretend under the falsehood that he was capable of living a free childish life. There would be no freedom not while his brothers suffered. Except in order to achieve such a goal his other brothers must take that burden.

When both roads led to pain how did one manage the decision? At just thirteen he was not prepared for such philosophical conundrums, as well-read on the subject as he was. All of this was simply shit and here he faced the disheartened look of his brother staring at him as if they hardly knew each other, as they did not a year prior. The stinging in his heart threatened to tear him apart. It was as if his very heart lay bare in his throat suffocating him and drowning him in pain.

For more ways than one Nikolai was so clearly the one in the wrong which only made the defeated whisp of Hans apology all the more devastating. Being protective and caring were nothings to ever be sorry for. A bile of disgust formed deep in his throat as he realised it was the kind of lessons his father taught. All positive emotions were to be warped and seen as weakness, who was he becoming? None of this was going to plan, not one singular second and despite every notion that it was a poorly fledged move he found himself tackling the other boy in a desperate hug.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, I promise. You gave me a life worth living, a gift I could never repay and one that has taught me more than anything. If anything ever happened to me I want you to know that there isn't anything you could do to change that. I love you Hans Jenssen no matter what." There was such silence in the words unspoken, in the heaviness of his desire to tell him, to tell anyone what he intended to do. That this may be their last moments together and yet no words would ever come. The pain of hurting those closest to you was one that Nikolai hardly knew before but now shuddered his entire being.

Goodbyes we're an impossible feat for many and the knowledge of giving one without the others knowing was even harder yet he had no choice. With the heartache he felt the beginnings of those dark machinations at work within him and pain turned to hate that laced poison under his skin. To make the decision about him was entirely selfish but he couldn't help feeling angry that his parents held so much control over him even when they couldn't care less for his existence.

Slowly backing away from the boy he held so dear he dropped his eyes to the floor fearful of the truth that may lay engraved in the light of his iris. Terrified that if Hans knew anything about the plans to come he would launch himself in with him and get himself hurt or worse. Suddenly as releaving as his instinct to comfort had been he worried that it was the entirely wrong move. Having Hans angry with him would be much simpler, he could hate him, and that way no matter what his brother would be safe. Perhaps hate could be a kindness in the right context.

There was no path that seemed correct, drained from his emotions of the previous days and the disgust of the world's cruelty something took over him and the lightning storm of his eyes flashed dangerously. Refocusing his stare on a boy who was one of the closest things to real family he'd ever known he wavered as he always would under those hurt, endearing brown eyes. Yet levelling his tone lower with the slight hint of harshness he spoke, "That being said, you can't save me Hans. Certainly not above anyone else. I'm not worth it, you think I am because I seem like I've changed but it's not enough. I'll always be one of them. If I had fled with you those students might have died and I would've been no better than them. I have to be better than them and you tried to stand in my way."

Hot tears began to line his eyes as he spoke with such conviction he was surprised it wasn't a rehearsed speech. Then again the boys have been avoiding a confrontation for the last few days and perhaps deep inside he had been prepared for all of this. Still his words were sure to sting, sting as harshly as he felt inside for his betrayal. Nikolai hoped it would be enough that Hans would hate him and it would feel easier but he knew in his heart that no matter what he did the boy infront of him was going to suffer. Confident to the whole world except perhaps Nik, the true Hans was terrified and cared more than he let on and he was going to suffer.

Interacting with Hans Jenssen @Archer Duncan

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

“Don’t,” Hans said sharply as Nikolai backed away, reaching out his hands in desperation. Don’t what? Hate him? Leave him? Hurt himself? Taking ahold of his brother’s hand only to find a terrifying coldness rather than his familiar warmth, his face still blanched what he had only been expecting. Eyes widening as Nikolai’s tone hardened with each word before forcing his gaze away in shame. In him Hans saw someone he almost did not know, and that frightened him beyond anything. Despite his reassurances never before had Hans felt more like an obstacle, just someone who “stood in Nikolai’s way” because he could never be as high-minded as him. Because every time he tried to do something right, it always turns out wrong. Because trying was all he could do, and trying was never enough, and trying never worked, so why would he even bother. Perhaps it would have been easier if he just gave up and left, but he knew he could never.

“I know, but what if you died Nikolai?” He asked, still unabating, and while his voice sounded like the one of a small child’s, it was evident he wasn’t about to back down. “You said I gave you a life worth living. What would it be worth if you’re not even alive? You are worth it, you’ve been everything but one of them since I truly met you. They spread hate, you spread love, there is nothing else more fundamentally correct. You always do the right thing, but I fear that righteous bravery of yours as much as I admire it. I just don’t know why you make it seem so criminal that I just can’t bear losing you-” Stopping his rambling, Hans stared at Nikolai with the same eyes that had pleaded him to not charge back into danger. The autumn winds sent his hair whipping across his face and he welcomed the respite from directly looking at his brother. Would he even want to know what were there in those icy blue reflections?

The defeated brown irises he saw in them were difficult to recognise as his own, because the Hans he knew would never be sorry for doing something right. Times before when he had thought he was messing up there was no convincing reason behind it, no safety of a loved one on the line. How could he live knowing that he had allowed his brother to charge headfirst into danger while he did what? Cheer him on macabrely? Watch him get devoured by the inferno as he had their headmistress? Hans knew he could keep Nikolai safe, if only he would let him. Because so what if they died? They were strangers, there were eight billion of them on earth but only one was his brother. For all he cared the whole world could be torn to pieces as long as his loved ones were safe.

Fuck, sudden horror seized him by the neck, what was he thinking? How could he even consider destruction, and abuse love as a lacklustre excuse? That was inhuman, disgusting, the romanticised villain burning down the world in the name of “love”. Yet when, for once in humanity, had lives not been dictated by the destruction of violence? Before his time Hans’ city had been split cleanly in to, Nikolai himself was from a warring country - and, knowing the Volkovs, probably a warring bloodline at that, and they both attended balls that were just waiting for terrorists. So how, in this society so bleak, was he expected to shine through?

Through the lump in his throat he could only state the obvious, and to anyone else his words may have been as good as lost to the wind, “Nikolai I'm scared.” With nothing more to say he relented to the painful truth. It left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth; fear had always been what he found revolting, yet now fear was all he knew, and all he thought he could ever know, and that unnerved him even further. He felt sick to his stomach and tired to his core. Clutching his brother close to him without difference for his reaction, Hans pressed his head onto the boy’s. Feeling tears streaming down his face he couldn’t care less, not when he felt like all he would ever know would be anguish and hatred. After days of burnt-out hope and barely sustained composure he didn’t know what to think let alone say or do. All he wished for was rest, to finally allow his body to crumple and stay there. Then he could give anything to believe in the sweet lie that all their problems will soon be solved with each other, yet after all their evasion of each other the interaction did nothing to bring him relief, only a terrible uneasiness that made him nauseated to the very bone.

@Matthew Campbellas Nikolai Vol'ka

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞: 𝟐𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

"I just don’t know why you make it seem so criminal that I just can’t bear losing you-”

"Because I don't know how!" The words tore from him a hurling inferno of agonizing truth laying bare out in then open. Eyes so stark and piercing bore holes straight through the boy before him while the expression on his face turned icy cold, void of all colour but the red strain that surrounded the electric storm of his iris. "I don't know how" a repetition now smaller, more silent yet far more burdened practically chaining him down as he felt himself form clenched fists digging his fingernails into his skin.

"You're right that I've tried to be everything but them but how can I possibly when it's all I know. You and Val have shown me more love in the last year then I have experienced in an entire lifetime and I don't know what to do with it. I don't even know who I am, stuck between the role I played for years and this new person. What if it's always just a role?" Breaking down he felt his knees begin to wobble teetering on the edge of collapse but facing denial from every semblance of strength he still held.

Releasing his fists fresh moon shaped indents lining his palms he found himself stepping away from the boy he had just reached forward for, a chill running deep within him. The creeping chilled sensation of swimming in Durmstrangs icy waters flowed over him wrapping him in an eerie embrace as his mind raced with all the intricacies of Hans words but before he could continue their eyes met and the defeat he saw reflected in those brown swirls that usually spoke of warmth was cataclysmic.

It was as if the boy had already foreseen Nikolai's death and contemplated the extent he would go to prevent it. A dark seed planted within him, Nikolai's own corruption carving it's way into his soul. Maybe this was the truth of being a Volkov, you could be as good as you tried but in the process you infected everyone around you. Hans who mercilessly fought for every one he had ever met was willing to sacrifice innocents for him, Val who longed nothing but to help grant wishes now ignored others for himself. It seemed to the young russian highly plausible that for him to be good natured he had to break all those around him in the process.

Almost catatonic with the weight of it he found himself to slow to avoid the grasp of Hans as he barreled towards him pleading his fears out to the world. No, not to the world, to Nikolai. The raw emotion was so vivid he found himself unable to not cry along with his brother who now held him tight as if he may disappear like dust in the wind. Completely unaware that his very fear was soon to come true. Practically having to hold the larger boy up as he sunk into Nikolai his arms weighed heavy with guilt, yet Hans' own very words were exactly the reason he had to go.

There entwined together like old friends who had known each other for years he allowed them to softly lower until they were both crumpled figures on the ground. Placing his hand gently around Hans' shoulders he pulled him close hanging their heads together reminiscent of a time mere months ago when a secret had them similarly crying under the stars. How so much could change so quickly was both terrifying and perplexing but changed it had. This time when the sun came up they would not be closer as before but miles apart potentially forever.

Softly holding back the flood of tears that troubled him he spoke his truth likely the truest thing he would say all night, "You said that I always do the right thing. But that's not true. I haven't done the right thing for a long time, I sat by and let people suffer for years, but not that day. That day I stopped watching, I made a difference and I can't stop there. I have to do the right thing for those that need it. That need me." Then all at once the ocean poured from his electric eyes completely unrelenting.

Interacting with Hans Jenssen @Archer Duncan

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

As Nikolai’s tears joined his in a torrent of all too familiar pain there was nothing more Hans could say. That shoulder was not the one he had cried on all those months before, those tears were not the same he had shed in his joy. Just when they thought they had found their bliss it was ripped away, and with so much having changed so quickly time itself was slipping out of their fingers. Under an overcast night that smothered even the barest smudge of the moon, the two stood, in a foreign country, under a foreign sky, with foreign circumstances.

Hans let Nikolai lower their weakened bodies onto the dew-damp grass, but the boy hardly felt the humidity under him as he felt the barest of sensory slipping away from him. Exactly like that August rainstorm the rest of the world disintegrated as before him all there was was that terribly, terribly brave boy. Last time, that faraway time so ironically familiar yet so obviously out of reach, they had clenched onto each other with bold, hot-blooded declarations, yet today, Hans knew they were clinging onto each other as if their counterparts could disappear any second. Only bleak, vigourless clouds lined the skies above.

At first he didn’t look at those blue eyes brimming with electricity, the summer lightning posing to strike any second. Instead all Hans did was tilt his head back, digging it into the earth as if all he wanted was to disappear in it, because no news is good news, and better live under a rock than to be trapped in the flames. There was something mesmeric about Nikolai, and sometimes, it would be that electromagnet which still leaves a sting on your finger after having attracted all of the paper clips. And Hans thought he would never look at him enough.

Yet he was forced to face his brother and his fears as the soft hand of Nikolai’s was rested on his shoulder, pulling their heads together as once more they were staring at each other nose to nose. Instead of resisting his body yearned for the complete opposite. Instinctively as how he had sprinted to haul his brother out of the flames that burnt everything down Hans had pulled his forehead towards his, instinctively he felt the the aching need to be so close to him that he could almost pretend everything was okay. How could he convince himself this was merely a bad dream, that come the rising of the sun his life would return to that beatific euphoria in the next few hours. But who was he fooling, in such turbulent times there was nothing he could stomach believing, for despite his prayers God had not saved him, and despite their reverence Stribog had not kept Durmstrang safe.

Fuck God. Fuck Stribog. Fuck everything.

These deities, piece of shit coping mechanisms, this whole damn world were so undeserving. Feeling the throbbing in his own heart, seeing the misery so clearly worn on Nikolai’s sleeve, he would rip Fate’s very own throat out. He knew himself well enough to understand that anger was merely another mangled manifestation of desperation. He knew rage was a child’s emotion, futile as banging little fists on the chests of a frustrated father, and Hans forced down the senseless fire as Nikolai spoke, with words he should have expected yet still did not know how to handle. Momentarily that silver tongue of Hans’ had not even the simplest ideas of what to say, but he knew he could never persuade Nikolai as he would a mindless crowd even if he dared to try. First what hit him was confusion, then a realisation would come all too quickly. The nature of his brother, after all, was not one who says but does not act.

Hans’ hands searched for Nikolai’s, so frantic that he might jump up at leave any moment on this heroic quest of doing the right thing, with whatever shallow meaning the phrase still carried in this hopeless world. “I’ll come with you this time Nikolai,” he said, and yet despite having willed all the resolution left in him the words came more as plea than conviction. “Whatever you’re gonna do just let me come with you.”

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol'ka

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞: 𝟐𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

That foolish bravery they were both so typically guilty of particularly when it came to each other was on full display despite the overcast sky ahead basking them in gentle shadows. Hans had always been brave even when he used it as a mask in public Nikolai knew with certainty he was the kind of boy who could not only summon courage but inspire it in others, after all he had done that for Nikolai countless times. Something about the late night silence hung tauntingly in the air between the muffled sobs of two brothers longing for the other to understand their point of view and yet there was a certainty that neither ever would.

The touch of his hands in Nikolai's own was so achingly exigent that he almost wavoured on his decision. This wasn't how any of this was meant to go, he was meant to just slip into the darkness and face his consequences in the future, not be forced to act now. Thoughts were crashing through his head battering against his skull in bone chilling cracks over what to do. No matter what decision he chose two things became glaringly obvious The first was simple, it had been a decision he made before the letter was even sent, his brothers weren't coming. Unfair, unjust and undoubtedly another thousand adjectives would be flung at him for that choice but unavoidable and unimaginable were too strong an argument for all of them.

Realisations can be agony though and the second decision was sure to haunt him long beyond tonight, if the ghosts he was to meet didn't get to him first. From the moment the two boys had opened their lives to one another freely the bond they had forged had become legendary. Few knew Nikolai's heart as well as Hans as if the very lines of it were engraved within the lines of the palms that held his own in the dewy grass. Nikolai hadn't formed a concrete opinion on divination and certainly palmistry seemed like the work of frauds but as they held each other there he wondered if palms really could tell the story of a life and if he searched deep enough if he would find himself in the hands of the other. Of course the notion was ridiculous and he told himself as such just as he had a hundred times before yet it was undeniable that when their eyes met, so different in quality, it was futile to resist the draw they held for each other.

Hands beginning to prick with sweat from the many defeated scenarios he was envisioning he pulled Hans closer into a deep hug resting his chin in the crook of his shoulder where he could whisper to him close. Both hands cradling the others back in a deep embrace as if he would fall away if given half a chance he spoke so lightly, hints of the sobering truth in his voice. "Hans Jenssen, you are one of the most courageous people I know. I couldn't imagine having a more reliable and loyal brother. You would truly do anything for me, I see that and I love you for it." While there wasn't a fraction of a lie in his words his actions were a mere distraction for his goal. Slipping one hand away he let it fall limp at his side as if overtaken by the emotion of his words while positioning it perfectly to his wand.

"You have given me more than I ever believed possible and somehow you still want to keep trying to help, I truly don't deserve you." The last words a deep slice through his already bleeding heart. "I know you won't let me go alone, it's as admirable as it is beautiful and perhaps you should, we have been stronger together than I ever was alone." Carefully allowing his hand to rise back behind the boy making sure the wood of his wand didn't make contact but comforting him further while unable to meet his eyes. Hiding both in that dark brown hair and in the shrowded darkness of the moonless night sky he prepared what might be the final words they ever spoke to one another knowing the final two would linger far longer than tonight.

Shallowed breaths the words found his tongue, "You never chose to leave me, unlike they did, even after everything I put you through. I hope you can make that choice again one day. I love you but I won't hurt you." What happened next was so frantic it practically blurred in motion and yet Nikolai was sure he would remember it forever. Pressing the tip of his wand into Hans back he whispered the words "Petrificus Totalus". Feeling his best friend, his brother go rigid within his grasp he let a small muffled cry press into the shoulder he was buried within before setting him down in the grass.

"Goodbye Hans. I'm so sorry. I hope I'll have the chance to apologise properly."

Interacting with Hans Jenssen @Archer Duncan

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

Despite the conviction in his brother’s words Hans still shook his head in defeat. He wasn’t courageous. If he was, he would have been courageous enough to let him go. He wasn’t reliable. If he was, he would have been by his side at Hogsmeade. He wasn’t loyal. If he was, there wouldn't have been any doubt to follow.

“I truly don’t deserve you.”

“Oh Nikolai, what are you on about again?” Hans squeezed the boy’s hand and his own eyes shut. He couldn’t keep them open anymore, couldn’t wait in apprehension like a lamb to the slaughterhouse. He flinched every time he looked at his brother, flinched when he remembered that bundle of sunshine he had not seen in what felt like years. Feeling a comforting hand along his back sobs caught in his throat as he managed out a few words laced in a pain incomparably worse to anything he had ever experienced before, “Nikolai, please, stop, don’t talk anymore…”

As Nikolai continued no other thought passed through Hans’ mind. He didn’t want to listen, he wanted to hear about how his best friend had aced the charms test or beaten a duelling opponent, and then he wanted to tell him to shut up and stop bragging. He wanted to invite him inside with hot cocoa and stay up late talking like they used to, he wanted to pretend none of this ever happened. Why must the world allow so much suffering to fall upon one soul so pure? Why must love be so unkind as it was wonderful?

“I love you but I won’t hurt you.”

Hans relented to the spell because he would never have expected it. Those razor sharp instincts would have dodged if the flash of magic had come from any other, but as that reaching hand, slackened from exhaustion, snapped away and pressed against his body tautly, his gaze still flashed with trust as they turned towards his brother. Then he felt very little, the shaking grasp of the hands he would readily place his life in let go, lowering him into the grass, until the dew washed out that pair of thunderstorm eyes. As their lightning crackled down on him one more time they only left twin Litchenburg figures down teary cheeks.

“Goodbye Hans-…”

Paralysed hands yearned to touch Nikolai’s just one more time - not one more time, he realised, perhaps it was one last time…. Regret pulsed in his veins, if his heart was to stop then and there the need to right all of tonight’s wrongs would be enough to keep it beating. His apology would fall on deaf ears, for life was not forgiving enough for him to believe he was safe from blame. Yet after all those countless hours they had spent entwined into each other's life Hans knew his brother’s mulish nature - if words as simple as “sorry” would be enough to stop him he might as well have been possessed. The trait he once found admirable now verged distressingly close to martyrdom, and in recent days he had to be the one to hold his brother back from foolish recklessness rather than vice versa. But tonight Nikolai was not going to somersault into a lake or do a broom trick; Hans’ fear was not even being there for him when he would inevitable thrust himself into fatal, unyielding flames.

Hans thought he knew his brother thoroughly, but as Nikolai became but a shadow retreating into darkness he was not struck with rage, only disbelief. Even without the spell he did not think he would be able to move. His entire body felt numb, all he could acknowledge were the words replaying in his mind, tangling around his thoughts until it was all that existed. He could not bear to believe they were only a ruse. He should know that “I love you” was more than a distraction, but betrayal had crept into him without him even noticing. What if they were all deception? Why would Nikolai have embraced him only to leave him? He loved him… but he was hurting him.

Whether from defeat or plain exhaustion he hadn’t fought against the bond. Instinct had left him but when the spell wore off Nikolai was long gone, and Hans knew there would be no point in dragging his fatigued body along to search for him. He did not even bother to rise, just stared up at the moonless night as the clouds churned to the rhythm of his thoughts. His arms felt weak by his sides, not the familiar soreness just after a race, but it was as if he had hugged something too tightly, like sand, until it slipped out of his fingers entirely. He didn’t know anymore if his heart was beating far too fast or far too slow, or if wasn’t beating at all he wouldn’t even have known. For the first time he felt so achingly alone, with no company not even the stray bird or howling beast. Alone, and utterly, completely helpless.

Then Hans stood, and stumbled, but he sprinted, and he felt like he could have ran to the very end of the world. By the lake, through the woods, then finally towards the towering mountains, and he only stopped until he was enveloped under their shadowy clasp. The shrouded trees, the faraway tents, the murky waters, everything smudged together. The jagged rocks dug into his legs as he fell to his knees, but he welcomed the distraction, pressed himself harder into them, in fact. He begged it to erase the features of that Eisprinz he no longer knew, pleaded for the phantom laughter, for the gone smiles to go. But he knew that face would be burned into his retina wherever he went, and it was as much as curse as it was blessing. With a deep breath he screamed into the unforgiving night.

But he knew, to believe it had been betrayal was to think Nikolai already dead.

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol'ka