Zethar;

I know he is in my room before I open the door.

It is a... quiet knowing. The type that doesn’t need sight or sound. But something deeper. A recognition that sits deep in my soul, activated only by my other half.

Zephan.

I just dealt with Koda, and now I’m going to have to face him as well? Was I that unconvincing with my act and reason to leave?

For a moment, I just stand outside the door. My hand rests against the wood as I decide whether to enter or walk away.

I should walk away. I should leave before this turns into another thing I don’t want to deal with.

But then again... I leave for the capital tomorrow morning. I may not get the chance to converse properly with my brother for a while.

Even if we’re going to argue, or he’s going to scold me... I’ll take that over leaving with a chasm between us.

So, I push the door open, and just as I suspected, he’s right there.

Waiting.

Leaning against the far wall, like he belongs in my space... even more than I do. Like I just walked into his territory instead of the other way around.

I close the door behind me, without saying a word, and before I even take the first step, his interrogation follows.

"Why are you really leaving?" 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

I look up at him.

No greeting, no hesitation. Just straight to it. Exactly like him.

I let out a quiet breath and move over to my bed. I sit on its edge and begin to pull off my sandals with more care than necessary. Something to occupy my hands... Something to stall a bit.

"How many times am I going to have to say it? Father’s ill. Lioran called for me. That’s why I’m going." I reply, and I’m met with silence.

I can feel him watching me. Not just with his eyes, but with everything else. The way he always stares at me when he’s reading every layer of my actions and inactions.

"You forget who you’re speaking to." He says, as I yank off my second sandal, and I shut my eyes.

Shit.

"Why do you keep forgetting that I can feel you, Zethar? I may not be able to feel your emotions in entirety, but I can tell when you—" He begins, but stops himself, and this makes me look up at him.

"You’re hurting." He says flatly, and I let out a breath as I look away.

"You feel unwanted." He adds, and that one stings. Coming from him, it stings because, indeed, he knows me better than anyone else. And he’s right.

I feel the words hit somewhere deep, somewhere I don’t want touched, and before I can stop it, something in me reacts. A flicker through our bond.

A hopeless confirmation to him that he’s right.

He steps closer, and I let out a breath.

Here we go.

"You feel like you don’t belong here." He pushes, and I look back at him... At my painfully perfect brother.

His white hair is flowing easily over one shoulder, and his scales are catching the light as they show off their health and beauty. His white coat sits proudly over his shoulders, and his eyes... those eyes hold a pity that irks me.

I hate it.

I hate that he sees me like this. I hate that he always has. I hate that there has never been a truth I could hide that he couldn’t uncover.

"You’re imagining things," I say with my voice tight with guilt and defence, and he takes a few more steps till he’s standing just a few inches away from me.

"Stop lying." He snaps, and I glare at him. Refusing to accept that he’s right, refusing to claim this weakness, refusing to let him see just how much I’m hurting.

"Can you just stop for a minute, Zephan. You’re wrong! You don’t know what’s going on!" I scold as I stand up to match his height, and he glares at me in frustration.

"Then help me understand! Why are you running!? Why are you leaving me!?" He demands, and I swallow.

"Because I am not needed here!" I then confess, unable to hide from him any longer.

He opens his mouth, but I cut him off.

"No. Don’t." I warn, because he is the one who asked questions, so he must listen to the answers. He must listen because I am only going to admit the truth once, and after that, I will deny it till the death of me.

"I was fine with it at first," I whisper, moving now because standing still suddenly feels impossible.

My thoughts are too loud, too fast, crashing into each other and wrecking the symphony of my heart and mind.

"To be honest, I didn’t care. I didn’t come here for him," I continue, as I pace, but my steps turn uneven.

"I came here for you, Zephan. I was scared that I lost you, so I came here." I whisper as I stop. That part is true... But here comes the heavier truth.

"I didn’t care that Elián called for you first," I go on.

"I didn’t care that he looked for you first. That he chose you first." The words roll off my tongue as I stare at the wall.

Each word feels heavier than the last, but I keep going.

"I told myself it didn’t matter. That I didn’t want it." I add as I let out a small, humourless laugh.

"But then it changed." My voice drops as I say those words.

"I started noticing it. Every time. Every single time he needed something... it was you." I whisper.

When I turn back to look at him, I find that he’s watching me, so I smile and look away again. I can’t hold his gaze and say this at the same time. I don’t have the guts to.