Archive of Our Own

Brick, muddy pathways soon led him to the entrance of a familiar base, with a pale wood gazebo that had quartz stairs leading underground. The only light around him came from the moon and the warm ambience of the lampposts scattered around the pathways at spawn, and apparently, the inside of Jude's base. Normally at this hour there shouldn't be any lights on anywhere but outside. That should have been the first indicator that something was off, but Sharpness shrugged the feeling off, deciding that he'd do Jude a favor and simply turn the lights off for him before he left.

It was early enough in the morning to ward off any unwanted suspicions of him sneaking into the trapper's base, saving him some extra grace considering how no one on strength knew how to keep their mouths shut. It would be more convenient for both him and Jude, and it would save him the questions that people might ask him, which, he wasn't interested in letting people eavesdrop on his business. Sharpness then began to wonder why basic manners weren't a common skill for most these days.

He had only come to retrieve the first aid kit he left behind in the rabbit's bathroom. There was a fight that he was scheduled to attend inside of the arena later that day, something about a competition or an event that Tai relentlessly advertised for an entire week, so he should keep it with him to help him lick up the wounds that would inevitably come. The steps beneath his boots seemed never ending as they led him further down below the surface and into Jude's cold base. He passed by the familiar pattern of delicately placed pale wood that lined the walls around the hallway of the stairs, almost familiar with the intricate grains of wood until he could trace them blind.

With a final, heavy step, Sharpness sighed in relief when he made it to the bottom of the stairs, automatically turning his head to the right to watch the fish that swam around in Jude's large aquarium. It was the first thing he did every time he came here. They were all well loved and cherished, clearly sated and happy in their tank. He knew of how much of a hassle it was to pick them all and he remembered fondly when everyone got together to name the ones they liked, each like a piece of themselves in that tank, and he smiled to himself as he turned the opposite direction to keep going to Jude's room.

Sharpness hadn't seen the fish he picked personally, the red and black tropical one, and he rarely ever did. It was a particularly shy fish, choosing to hide around the coral rather than swim out in the open, which he could respect. Like father like fish—or something like that. Jude would sometimes swear up and down that he was secretly a mermaid who sneaked off into the warm ocean to give birth to it.

And he never really understood why Jude thought that or where he even came up with that conclusion, especially since he didn't think there was anything similar about him and a fish. Well, besides color. They were both red and black. But aside from that, Sharpness didn't think he could be anything like a fish, and he almost felt insulted for having someone make that comparison.

His footsteps were light and as quiet as he could manage, feeling like those cartoon villains tip-toeing where they shouldn't be. He was just afraid of waking the slumbering tenant, like one wrong move and he'd get a pillow launched at his head. But the base remained awfully cold and empty. It lacked a familiar warmth, like there was a weight missing in the air, and it made anticipation build in Sharpness's gut as he continued closer to Jude's small bedroom. He could almost argue that it was some weird sixth sense of his. Like he developed a whole new sense just to adjust to one man, who he hadn't even known for that long.

Turning around the corner, Sharpness stopped at the doorway as he stared at the empty, unmade bed. He didn't feel surprise or any form of shock because in some weird fashion he had already expected the room to be empty. Walking up to the mattress with messy blankets and sheets strewn all over it, he carefully peeled his gloves off and held the glove in his non-dominant hand, feeling at the bed with his bare hand. It lacked enough warmth to suggest that Jude had left recently, but it wasn't cold enough for it to seem like he had been gone for awhile. He thought about the different possibilities as he slipped his warm glove back over his hand.

There wasn't really a reason for him to worry about Jude. At the end of the day, it wasn't his business in any way to care about his whereabouts and safety. But his mind continued to race with thoughts as he grabbed hold of the soft pillow and re-centered it to the top of the bed, patting at it and brushing over the uneven creases. Sharpness figured that maybe he just got up early to go work on a trap for… something, or if he needed to help someone out like Parker.

It must not be easy to run a newly formed kingdom on his own, and for Jude, it must be heavy to be crowned prince of said kingdom. But he wouldn't know. Whatever went on in the caca kingdom should, respectfully, stay there.

Sharpness located the plush edges of the top half of the blanket and pulled them up to sit where they should be, folding the extra fabric over to rest neatly on top of itself. He straightened out any remaining wrinkles before walking to the edge of the bed, pulling the corners to meet their respective ends of the mattress. Once satisfied with his work, he spared the bed one final glance, before walking down to the bathroom and opening the door.

With a click, the lights switched on in the bathroom as Sharpness walked in, automatically turning on. He didn't really understand any of the red stone bullshit that went behind it. Though, he never asked. He only knew that there was a manual switch and an automatic sensor that would turn the lights on when it sensed someone in the room.

He deliberately avoided looking into the mirror as he walked to the sink, afraid of confirming what he thought he would find. Sharpness wouldn't say he was an insecure man, but it was sometimes hard to look back at a face that he couldn't recognize as his own, and come to terms that it's real, it's him, and there's not much he can do about it.

Opening the cabinet that sat above the metal hanger that hung a small, blue hand towel on the wall, there were some bottles of medicine on the shelves, with varying colors and names, some nearly empty and some untouched. He ignored all of them in favor of grabbing his first aid supplies. Looking down at the empty counter, Sharpness noticed a long, strand of hair that reflected the overhead bathroom light. He picked it up and inspected it carefully in his hand. It was blond, exactly like the strands on his head, and it most definitely came from there, too.

Shrugging to himself, he flicked it to the floor without any thought, temporarily setting his stuff on the empty counter, before he placed down his ender chest and found the correct shulker box to throw his stuff in. The handful of items were tossed in haphazardly before he put away the shulker box and the ender chest.

A yawn escaped his mouth as he began walking out of the bathroom, using his hand to cover the lower half of his face. His eyes blinked tiredly as the lights in the bathroom turned off once he shut the door behind him. He looked to the bed once more, the properly made one, before continuing out of Jude's room. There weren't many places he could've gone to, but an idea sparked in his mind. Just one possibility.

It should've still been extremely early, and he figured that he had enough time to simply just check, even if he would come up empty. It wouldn't hurt to just make sure that the rabbit was okay. So, he continued walking out, flicking the manual light switch off in Jude's room, plunging it into darkness behind him. Instead of walking through the sunken floor of the middle of Jude's base—that looked like a conversation pit without the plush sofas or cushions—he chose to walk around it, passing by pillars and whatnot.

His hand flicked off the light switch that sat beside the wooden pillar that stood proudly to the right of the staircase, turning off the main lights in the base. The large room became dark once more, with some lights still turned on from other rooms, but he didn't bother with those.

It wouldn't hurt to just go see if Jude was where he thought he would be, even if there was a chance that he wouldn't be there.

The smell of seaweed was so strong that Sharpness could almost taste it on his tongue. He continued to carefully tread through grass and uneven stone, making his steps loud and purposefully clear. On one of his steps, Sharpness snapped a twig by accident, the echo of the loud crack eventually dying out against the roaring sea. But there wasn't a reaction. Not a turn of his head, nor a stutter in his even breaths. The man ahead offered no acknowledgment, but Sharpness was sure that he'd known he was there before he saw him first.

Jude stared at the lapping waves that splashed wildly against the flat edge of the stone shore he stood on, sullenly watching with his hands tucked in his pockets. It was a cold, summer morning, the hour only being twilight, when the sky was still dark and blue but light enough to where you could make out the dim picture of clouds in the sky. Everything else remained tinted with deep blue tones until you could hardly make out their original color, and the silhouette of trees and tall grass looked soft and impossibly peaceful around the gloomy shore.

He saw, as he crept closer, that Jude was only clad in his loungewear: a soft, black t-shirt, and a well loved pair of loose, black sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His hair was tussled as if he had just rolled out of bed, with some strands sticking out awkwardly, and others appearing frizzy or tangled admist the ocean breeze. Sharpness himself might've not fared much better, for his hair was unwashed and oily, and his eyes were softened from sleep. But compared to Jude, his attire was much better fitted for the cold weather, and it made him worry more than he already should.

"Hey Jude," Sharpness began, stopping beside the man. Jude's ears momentarily flicked towards him, but his eyes stayed unmoving as he let out a low hum, continuing to gaze at the sea.

"Hi Sharpness," he replied.

They stood there for a moment, letting the ocean welcome in the swordsman. The air between them was awfully awkward and he berated himself for starting the conversation so poorly. He wasn't sure how to approach Jude, either, knowing that something was clearly wrong, and unsure of what to do about it.

"It's quite far out here. Is it that hard to resist the view?"

Jude hadn't said anything for a few seconds, and it was almost long enough to wound Sharpness into thinking that he had been ignored.

"Mmh… sure," he said eventually.

Sharpness hesitantly looked over to him, letting his eyes betray the concern swirling in his green irises. "That so?"

Jude's ears had pressed themselves back down to his hair, flat, and for a moment it almost looked like he was shying away from him, in the way that he squeezed his arms closer to his sides and lowered his head. Sharpness wasn't sure if he was cold—which, he could've been, considering how he lacked proper outerwear—or if he was just repulsed by his company. From above the surface of the sea, he turned his head back to watch as foam washed up against the rocks and lodged themselves between the cracks, before the water would rush it back into the ocean and later replace it with new foam.

It was almost therapeutic. The dark, mysterious depths of the sea beckoning you in, with the easy rhythm of sloshing waves, and the sky so blue yet so dim, plunging the world into cinematic hues. Blue hour, so it's called.

"You know—I once read this poem about the ocean, I don't really remember much of it but I can try."

Jude didn't say a word, but Sharpness continued anyways, "Shocker, I know. When I was still learning english, I read anything that I could get my hands on, even if I could barely understand it. I used to read all the time." Sharpness breathed a soft sigh at the nostalgia of the memories that flooded his mind, his warm breath barely visible in the cold air. The man next to him didn't offer any words and instead chose to stay quiet, but he knew that he was listening, so, he continued.

"It began like, 'I was afraid to love', or something—a little bit corny, but I don't think it got any better." Sharpness paused, trying to recall the remaining contents of the short poem. His eyes were looking up at the sky as he absently chewed on his bottom lip. "Not just to love, but to love her, because she was a mystery. You know—something like that, I don't know. And I don't think I remember exactly what was said next, but it was about not being able to understand something. Sorry I—my memory kind of sucks…"

Shaking his head quietly, Jude smiled to himself, and Sharpness forced himself to keep calm. His eyes crinkled at the edges and matched the soft, barely noticeable outline of his crows feet, but beneath his smile there was a hint of exhaustion; almost restlessness. It reminded him of why he was here, why he chose to go find Jude in the one place he knew he'd come to at this hour, away from the thoughts that grew impossibly louder at night and the racing of one's heart.

"'course… I can tell," the rabbit muttered under his breath.

Sharpness didn't try to hide his eagerness to continue rambling, speaking almost immediately after Jude did, "I mean—I was like maybe fourteen years old when I read that poem, so be nice to me. I was like ten years younger and I didn't know how to read fucking english… but the rest of the poem was about how 'she' was the ocean and I was a boy who didn't know how to swim. That's it."

Jude's eyes continued to search for something below the depths of the ocean, seeing past the waves, before minutely choosing to glance up at Sharpness.

"Oh, that's kinda romantic, I guess," he said, before bright magenta turned back to the sea.

A sudden strong gust of wind howled against them, and Sharpness reached a hand up to brush his bangs back into place, biting back against the chill that affected his nose and lips. Never mind his ears, either, for they were cold enough to be numb to anything by that point. Jude, on the other hand, shivered quietly to himself, shuddering at the sensation of what it appeared to be chilliness. Huh. When did he ever see Jude get cold?

Unclasping the clip that held his cape together, Sharpness released the weathered fabric from his shoulders, connecting both ends to the hand closest to Jude, before bringing it around him. Sharpness took the other end of the fabric again with his other hand and carefully brought it around the other side of the rabbit's neck, working his nimble fingers to reconnect the fabric and keep it in place, securing it until it rested over his shoulders. He hadn't thought about the action. It was almost like instinct, to offer his cape up to Jude, because he might've been cold. Jude didn't say anything throughout the short interaction, but neither did he try to refuse or struggle.

With the absence of his cape, his back felt a little more exposed and cold, but he found that he didn't mind it much. Not when Jude looked even a little bit more relieved or satisfied.

"Sharp—you know I didn't need that…" Jude quietly mumbled.

"Yeah, okay, and I am the king of England," he joked sarcastically.

Another strong breeze passed between them, rolling a few small stones in its wake, and further pushing the bearing of seaweed into his senses. If there was one thing he couldn't stand about the ocean, it happened to be the smell—sometimes. Some days he can enjoy it and others he couldn't. This time, Jude hadn't reacted to the wind; at least, not as much as before Sharpness's cape sat over his shoulders, and he felt proud of himself for being able to accommodate for Jude's needs.

A particularly harsh wave crashed against the rock they stood on, and splashed a bit of sea water into the air, which gravity soon brought down to land by their feet. "Sharpness?" Jude quietly asked, almost inaudible enough for him to not be able to catch it.

"Hm?"

He patiently waited for a brief amount of time, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. He hoped that the waves would be able to drown out the sound before Jude could catch onto it.

"What did you feel about that poem after you read it, do you remember?"

Sharpness tried to remember how he felt the first time he read the poem, but his mind came up empty. He didn't read for entertainment because he wasn't that kind of kid growing up, rather choosing to play games or roughhouse with his siblings for kicks. So growing up, reading was more of a literacy practice to him, nothing more.

"Well, I—um, I don't know? I guess I kinda thought it was silly or stupid."

"Oh."

Sheepishly bringing a hand up to cup his nape, Sharpness would blame the flush on his cheeks due to the cold weather. "Yeah, sorry I—I read books because I kinda had to, not because I wanted to enjoy them. It's also why I don't read much as an adult."

Jude quietly watched his expression, his eyes ever so bright and all-consuming. Sharpness didn't know what he was looking for, but he hoped that he wouldn't find it so quickly, so that way he could bask in his attention for even a second longer. But Jude only blinked and adverted his eyes away. He turned his head, looking back into the vast sky, steady and kind just like the ocean.

"I didn't—I never read much growing up. I only really read books when I had to for school assignments," Jude admitted out loud, quietly; breaking through the emptiness that grew for too long. "Have you read the outsiders? It's a really good book, I remember liking that one a lot when I first read it."

Sharpness hummed in thought, "Mm… sounds familiar. What's it about?"

"I—well, it's basically a book about these two gangs: Socs and Greasers. It's written from the perspective of a kid from one of those gangs, I kinda forgot most of it though. But a lot of crazy shit went down."

There was a hush in Jude's voice when he spoke, matching his own low, gentle tone. At that moment, they weren't playing a façade, like being the best trapper, or (one of) the best swordsmen in strength. It wasn't like being the kind of person you only present as on the surface. Instead, it felt awfully raw, intimate, and personal, like the conversation was delving into something more than just childhood poetry and literature. Sharpness was navigating through uncharted territory blind.

"Oh, I don't think I've read that book before. I might've heard of it though."

Jude scoffed disbelievingly, but the smile on lips suggested otherwise. "Sharpness, there's actually no way you've never read the outsiders. Have you even seen the movie?"

Sharpness shook his head and blinked away, "No."

"A really famous quote from that book is from a poem. The poem was called 'Nothing Gold Can Stay', written by someone who I don't care enough about to remember."

His lips silently quirked up in a small smirk, with Jude's genuine character slowly breaking out of the cold, indifferent shell it was locked inside of earlier.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And the main character, Ponyboy, recited that poem to his friend at this abandoned church they were at, while the sun was rising."

An unintentional huff of laughter passed through his nose, his body silently wracking with involuntary giggles. "I definitely don't know that book then. I'd have probably remembered some kid named Ponyboy…"

"Oh, it can get worse. There's another character named Soda, and a girl—I think her name was some kind of fruit. A red one," Jude said, eagerly willing to add on, "Anyways, I think the author was kinda hungry when they wrote that book."

Something in his head clicked after that, like he had just blown dust off of an old photo book and flipped through the contents, finding what he was searching for. Albeit, it might've been a bit delayed.

"Oh—wait I—I think I know what poem you're talking about!"

At that, Jude turned to him, managing to wear an expression that showed how perplexed but unimpressed he felt.

"You're fucking kidding me Sharpness… there's no way you haven't read the outsiders, but you've somehow read a niche poem that only got popular because of it."

"Come on," he drawled out, "that's not true. It was probably a well known poem before that book was written, anyways." Sharpness said as he turned to look back at Jude, with a pointed look on his face.

"Well—"

"Natures first green is gold," Sharpness interrupted, "her hardest hue to hold—and, that's actually about all that I can remember..."

Sharpness snickered to himself as Jude glared at him. "How do you manage to larp everything. I mean seriously, did you really forget that poem too?"

It was then Jude's turn to giggle, with Sharpness's eyes going wide as he playfully smiled, "What do you mean!? I'm not a larper!" But he paused when Jude threw his head back in a laugh. It only lasted maybe a second, or two if he was lucky, but it was like everything fell back into its original place, how it should've been from the start. And in some way, he felt a sense of pride in his ability to make Jude laugh and smile just like that—unabashedly, sincerely, earnestly.

But perhaps he stared for too long because Jude glanced over to him nervously when he hadn't laughed with him, and he looked away with a dissapointed look on his face, back to the view of the sea. Sharpness followed suit after his brain decided to unpause itself, feeling admittedly, a little embarrassed. He wet his cold, chapped lips with the tip of his tongue, nervously fidgeting with his fingers as if he didn't know where to put them or what to do with them.

"Sharpness, you said you used to read a lot, right?" Jude asked after a beat of awkward silence.

The question made him pause, and his stomach twisted into knots at the thoughts that followed. He almost felt… hopeful, in his own, unexpected way.

"Yeah, why?"

There was a pause before Jude released a new string of words, his mouth parted before he rushed out, "Did you have any favorites? Anything?"

Sharpness traded a look with Jude; his bright, magenta eyes curious and inquisitive. It was hard not to fold, even while under zero pressure. Just those eyes, that wanted something of him, like in this case, an honest response, could make him do almost anything. He wasn't sure when he found out that could even happen and why it occurs, but in the end there wasn't any difference made. It just happens to happen.

"Well, I know I preferred Russian literature," he murmured out, "It's just—the english translation I had of some books were kinda mid, but I guess it made sense to me because it felt familiar—I—if that makes sense."

Jude only raised his brows and turned away. At some point it would begin to feel repetitive that they kept doing that thing where they would look at each other and then look away like nothing happened, nervously trading looks without meaning to make things feel forced or difficult.

"No wonder you turned out to be the way you are…" the rabbit mumbled, "I don't think I've ever heard of any Russian books about sunshine's and rainbows."

Sharpness sighed to himself at that.

"Well, I guess you're not wrong. I'm sure there are some happy ones, though," he replied.

The once completely blue sky began to peak with warmth at the beginning of sunrise, tearing through the clouds and the gloomy atmosphere. It almost felt like some kind of symbolic light at the end of the tunnel—or some shit—because of how it contrasted against everything that was once covered completely in cool tones. In his peripheral vision, Sharpness could see that the slowly rising sun brought out the warmer tones in Jude's cheeks and highlighted the thin strands of his mused hair in gold. Gold, just like that poem he reminded him of.

There wasn't any immediate effect, per say. It was like after he really took in the strange tranquility of his surroundings did it make him feel a little bit nervous inside despite there being no reason to feel so. It happened a lot, actually, whenever he's with Jude. Where his brain somehow stops working and he starts feeling inexplicable things in his body—things that he couldn't talk to a doctor or a health professional about because there wasn't anything they could do about it. At least, not permanently.

"Yeah, I can understand a little bit of Russian," he added, the slight tension growing between them becoming a bit uncomfortable.

"So I was able to somewhat read the original version of Russian books and English translated ones too. There wasn't much different about it because I wasn't fluent in both languages, but I—the ones in the authors native language felt much deeper?"

He hadn't realized that he'd been talking to his own boots until the subtle movement of Jude releasing his hands from his pockets made him glance over. He noticed that the tips of his finger nails had been torn to shreds, with some still frayed with sharp edges and others peeled off short, but he didn't dare mention it.

"Yeah, I get it," Jude replied, popping his knuckles. "It's like—it's like you're able to see what the author is trying to say directly from their words rather than an interpretation of it… I'd also imagine that it's more authentic."

"We… we both sound like idiots," Sharpness huffed.

Jude immediately side-eyed him for that, an unimpressed look to his face that screamed "shut up".

"Sharpness, I'm trying to be sincere here. Could you like—could you not?"

Sharpness brushed his hair out of his eyes when the wind blew them in the way, sighing out an unapologetic "sorry". The atmosphere began to quickly reflect more of the sun's rays, further coloring the sky into golden yellow and orange. It made it easier to see things that he once couldn't from the shadows—such as the color of Jude's ears, and the shine of copper ore on the shallow ends of the shore. The howling of the sea filled in the gaps of silence for them, with animals evidently beginning to wake along with the sun.

The waves glistened under the orange light in the same way that Jude's eyes sometimes did when they practically sparkled at something he really liked. It was a much better look on him than the kind of miserableness he had when Sharpness initially found him, where his eyes were dull and staring off into the depths of the ocean, without really seeing anything.

"Jude?" Sharpness asked.

This time, the rabbit didn't look over or respond, as if he already knew what he was going to be asked of him.

Sharpness braced himself for pushing what would inevitably have to be discussed. "Why are you really out here? How come you just—why did you just disappear to come here?"

"I just—" he stuttered, glaring into the edge of the sun rising over the horizon. It was like he was trying to seek an answer in the sky, or the ocean, or anything but from his own thoughts. And maybe it did work. Maybe there was a chance that he could find all of his answers in the arms of the sea or the vast universe, where no one dared to follow but him.

So the swordsman only patiently waited, watching the same exact sun slowly rise from the curved horizon of the ocean, with the same waves calmly sloshing over each other until they ended at the stone shore. He couldn't find anything no matter how hard he searched. But he never claimed to be an insightful man, after all.

He squinted against the sun's blinding rays at some point. His mother once warned him not to stare at the sun for too long, for it would kill his eyes or something, but he'd secretly done that many times even after he was warned. Even if "the sun" didn't come in the form of a stupidly large star. And it was almost baffling to really think that between him and Jude, they were so small in comparison to the vast things beyond mankind's comprehension, such as the sun, stars, and moon. How their lives were nothing in the timeline of things that existed long before them and would continue to exist even after they've passed.

"How do you do it, Sharpness?"

He felt his brows knit together in confusion, unsure of where the conversation was headed.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"How do you always find a way to make things better, is what im asking. How do you always know what's wrong and find a way to fix it, how can you always predict where I'll be before I even know it, just how—"

"Jude—"

"How are you so good at talking me out of doing stupid shit at the most unconventional times possible!" He yelled, grabbing onto the blond's arm to yank him to turn and face him. Sharpness stumbled for a moment before stabilizing himself in front of a now aggravated little bunny.

He wasn't angry though, and Sharpness could tell in the way that he still carried a sense of exhaustion beneath his loud voice. Jude was still just as raw with his emotions and thoughts like earlier, even if it was presented differently, or expressed more dramatically, so he didn't feel threatened by his new attitude or loud voice. If anything, it was just another side to the same coin. Perhaps that was the issue Jude was upset about, though, and he was beginning to get a vague idea of what he was trying to say to him.

"I don't know," he replied, earnestly. "It goes both ways. I could ask you the same thing right now."

Jude's expression morphed into something different, a little bit softer, more surprised.

"Oh."

"I don't get it either. It's like—when I'm around you, it doesn't quite feel like the world is going to end," and Sharpness chose to bite the bullet, gulping down the saliva that pooled in his mouth, "—and I can see that it's the same for you, too."

Relaxing the grip on his arm, Jude looked away, unable to make eye contact with him. It wasn't like Sharpness could, either, considering how his eyes were seemingly stuck staring at the weeds that stuck out from the cracks of stone.

"We really are idiots, huh?" Jude whispered, defeated.

"Don't I know it," Sharpness responded.

A soft breeze picked up between them, and orange began to take the place of blue, lighting the world around them rather than shadowing over it. Their breaths mingled in the air they shared, quietly acting as one whole. Sharpness reached a hesitant hand pluck a small leaf out of the strands of Jude's hair and flicked it away. The green leaf fell to the ground and flew away with the direction of the wind, to soon be forgotten amongst the abundance of grass and flowers. Jude only responded with a speechless sigh.

"Jude," he breathed out.

The man shook his head, "I don't want to talk about it. Just—keep talking to me about your childhood. Tell me more about Russia or whatever the fuck—I—just don't stop," he pleaded.

Sharpness didn't offer any words. He didn't need words to explain the way he crept a hand around the cape draped over Jude's shoulder to coax him into following him into the forest, leaving the ocean behind them. He left with him willingly, turning to walk alongside the blond with a hand holding his wrist. And together they followed the path back to where they came from. They didn't need to talk about anything, but the choice was there, that they could. That they were allowed to just be.

It was everything he hadn't known he could get. Just getting to exist alongside his greatest enemy to have ever met him, who also happened to be the most trustworthy man he knew, and his only companion. It was easy to believe that everything could just stay like that between them. Where they didn't have to put a label on what they were, or think about what would come out of every small interaction that enemies did not do.

It wouldn't get better just like that, though. But the incentive was still there; that whatever happened, they will have each other, even if it ends with being tucked under the same blanket or the blood of the other on their hands. It wasn't pretty and neither were they. Which, that was what made their dynamic different, in their own way. They were only two men who didn't know what it felt like to have something permanent, or how to maintain it, but they tried anyways. Jude was just as messed up as Sharpness was and Sharpness was just as broken as him.

Either way, he didn't dare voice any of his thoughts out loud, and he understood that Jude wouldn't either—and like an old story he'd once known at some point in his short lifetime, Sharpness had taken his live, beating heart, and foolishly hid it under the floorboards, praying that it wouldn't give him away. But he was unfortunately a dumbass with a heart that was far too human.

"Your voice is kinda soft, by the way. For a guy like you, it feels kinda unexpected," Jude randomly said out loud. It kinda felt like he hadn't meant to say something like that, but Sharpness didn't mind. Not when it came out of his mouth.

"Oh, thanks?" He said, although confused. Sharpness wanted to follow it up by asking for more clarification, but he chose not to, for the sake of both of them.

Their ending would eventually hurt a lot, wouldn't it?