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The pain hit him suddenly and fierce. Almost like a lightning bolt. It took every ounce of Luca not to crumble to the floor immediately. He excused himself from Andrew and Victor, walking quickly out of the main hall. He could feel his friend’s eyes follow him as he left. Luckily the pain masked over his growing embarrassment.
He reached his room in record time, the pain worsening by the second. Luca shut the door and fell onto his bed. He curled into a ball, holding his head and trying desperately not to cry. His entire body was shaking, but at last he was safe. He was far away from all the people and by some miracle he had left the curtains closed that morning. Soon the first wave of pain seized, though Luca knew it was far from over.
He groaned as ear shattering tinnitus screeched like ruined records in his ears. The actual pain hitting seconds after. Luca curled his body closer. Maybe it would hurt less if he wasn’t shaking so much?
A memory from the time he tried to fight back a headache played out like a movie over his eyes. Boy had that been a mistake. He vividly remembered the other’s scared and concerned looks when he’d regained consciousness from collapsing. Only Emily and Edgar had reacted differently: A stern and concentrated look washed over Emily as she turned on her doctor mode. And Edgar, oh Edgar, he had a look of utter horror painted across his face. Luca had never seen him so terrified before, not even in his first match or terror shock. Edgar had also been angry back then. Angry at Luca for not resting, angry that he hadn’t left for his own sake and health. Angry that he was so concerned.
Luca groaned again. The loud screeching had somehow stopped, though the pain wasn’t so merciful. Sweat seeped from his pores as another painful memory forced its way to him, flashing in front of his eyes.
Luca felt his chest ache. It hurt to breathe, and it felt like he couldn’t process the air right. Luca heaved, though it only worsened the pain. It was too much. He could almost feel the old headwound open again, spilling out blood and memories. A weak cry fell from his lips. A cry only the walls would hear.
Or, so he thought.
There was a light knock at the door. So quiet that Luca wouldn’t have heard if the tinnitus was still ringing.
“Luca?” a soft voice spoke. “Luca, it’s a headache right? Andrew said so…” the voice trailed. The voice was familiar. Familiar and dear. Luca damned his memory as he tried to remember, the pain and dizziness not helping at all.
“I, I’m coming in”, the voice said, obviously not wanting to waste time outside or figuring out if Luca could speak or not. With a far too loud click the door opened, letting burning honey-coloured light seep in.
Luca squinted, trying to see the person while not blinding himself. The person was small and carrying a tray. Something resembling a short cape sat on their shoulders. There were only three survivors who wore such. Luca racked his brain. It clearly wasn’t Andrew; they were too short and had mentioned him earlier.
“Oh dear”, the person said, shutting the door before rushing to Luca’s side. It finally clicked who it was. Not even Andrew or Aesop could sound so worried. It was Edgar who had come.
“Eddie?” Luca stuttered, grimacing at the pain from doing so.
“I’m right here dear”, the painter said softly. “Two taps for talking, one for shutting up.”
He knew the headache’s made Luca sensitive to sound and he didn’t want to hurt him by blabbering. Luca tapped once at his head. Edgar nodded, mostly to himself.
Luca heard the painter fiddle with something wet before a cold cloth was laid on his forehead. The inventor sighed, a burning feeling he hadn’t even noticed cooling instantly. A thin blanket was thrown over him too.
Edgar sat down next to him and Luca reached for his hand. He grabbed it immediately and started running small circles over his beloved’s gloved hand. Luca sighed in relief. His headaches were usually more bearable with Edgar there.
“What’s the worst pain you’ve ever felt?” Luca asked. He was sure almost an hour had passed with them just sitting in silence. The pain was still there, but it had dulled down to more of a pulsing ache instead of fierce bolts. Manageable at last.
He felt one tap on his hand. “Two taps for talking, one for shutting up” he (somehow) remembered. Luca smiled softly, even if it hurt a little to do so.
“It’s fine, you can talk”, he assured. “The pain’s manageable now.”
“Well then”, Edgar sighed, his blue eyes looking down at the inventor.
“I think the worst pain I’ve felt was when I fell down from the balcony at some rich man’s party I was forced to attend. The guy who “accidentally” pushed me didn’t even apologise, he just said he didn’t see me.” Luca let out a silent laugh. Edgar’s height was not something to joke about. He could already tell that the painter was very offended by the incident, though he smiled with his beloved.
“Pain is such an awful thing, especially when you can’t do anything with it”, Luca murmured.
“Because, you know it’s there and you feel the pain, but there’s just no cure for it. You’re bound to it with your body.
“And everyone else can see it too. And they want to help! Which is nice since you really need it sometimes”, Luca squeezed Edgar’s hand. “But after a while they start to notice it’s hopeless. That you’ll never be fixed. So they probably leave, and you’re alone. Alone with your pain. Just you and this awful, awful pain that you can’t do anything with. You can’t even ignore it.” Small tears had started to form around Luca’s eyes. He moved his free hand to wipe them away. Even a movement that small caused another jolt of pain.
“It’s just awful”, he whispered, his last bit of energy bleeding out. “Edgar, what should I do?”
“I don’t know”, the painter said. “But rest helps most things. Carrying on too.” Carefully he removed the chain around Luca’s neck. Then he removed his gloves, leaving a kiss on Luca’s scarred left hand.
“I know it’s not pleasant, but sometimes forced ignorance helps.” With another careful movement, Luca’s head was now lying in Edgar’s lap. He looked up and met pale blue eyes.
“You don’t need to sleep. Sometimes just focusing on something else or the quiet helps too, unless it makes it worse of course. Then you must make noise to drown it out. It’s all a matter of coping and finding a good way to do it at that.” The cloth on his forehead was changed but Luca melted anyway. Mostly from Edgar. He was unbearably hot sometimes. Both figuratively and literally. The painter noticed of course and tossed the thin blanket to the side.
“You’re out of spoons. I’ll watch over you, even if you don’t sleep. Do tell me if there’s anything I can do for you”, Edgar spoke with such kind words. After some consideration Luca asked: “Can you stroke my hair?”
Edgar smiled. After a chaste kiss and some adjustments to Luca’s head, the painters fingers where lost in the tangles of chocolate dark hair.
Beneath him the inventor tried to relax. He tried untensing his muscles and shut his eyes. Even with the headache and all its side effects still bombarding him with pain and suffering, Luca felt far better than just an hour ago.
“I love you, Ed”, he whispered. His lover hummed.
“I love you too, Luca.”
Against all odds Luca fell asleep. It didn’t really feel like sleep though. He was aware of his pain and Edgar the whole time. It was still the best shut eye he’s had in a few days.