his warped attachment

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After taking his medication, Aillard was fast asleep. I stayed with him until he was deep in his slumber and when I was sure that he wouldn't stir awake due to any other reasons, I removed my hand from his and left the room. Stepping into the kitchen, I dialled Jeremiah's number and the other party picked up the call shortly after a few rings. A playful greeting followed, "Hello adorable birdie, how have you been?" 

"Jeremiah," I exhaled. "I called to talk about Aillard."

"Something happened?" Jeremiah asked, suddenly anxious. 

"He had another episode this morning," I reported accordingly before asking, "Didn't you say that he had been alright?" 

Silence. Jeremiah hadn't said anything thereafter and I knew that these two had been fooling me all this while. My fingers closed into a tight fist and I was clenching so hard on nothing that my knuckles paled. More than I was trusted at Jeremiah and Aillard, I was angry at myself. I should've known him well enough to expect that he would lie about it to me. Trying to conceal the tremble in my voice, I asked, "How bad was it?" 

"Wren—"

"I want to know, Jeremiah," I pleaded, feeling the tears rushing to my eyes. "I need to know."

"Everything sort of went down when you left. Aillard was persistently anxious, antsy and sometimes, almost desperate," Jeremiah explained. "The amount of stress and pressure that he was placing on himself had worsened his asthma."

"No wonder he looked so worn down. Aillard hasn't been eating and sleeping well, has he?" 

"Aillard had been trying his hardest with everything, Wren. He may still have some relapses but as long as he's kept in check, all is good." 

"He doesn't look fine at all," I said curtly.  

"But this man loved you more than he loved himself — more than he would love anyone else. No matter how much he needed you in the past three years, he wouldn't let himself shatter the best life he hoped for you to lead," Jeremiah sighed. 

"Jeremiah—"

"This might sound obsessive, but you were his only attachment, Wren. You knew how harsh the Illiades was to him. He grew up without knowing affection and you happened to be the first person who entered his life that resembled warmth and love," Jeremiah explained. "It's natural that he would grip onto you." 

Jeremiah left the conversation hanging on such a heavy note and I cut the line. Blinking away the tears that filled my eyes, I used the back of my hand to hastily wipe them away as I stared blankly into Tokyo's skyline.

Aillard set me free because he loved me.

Could I also set him free by loving him?

The heaviness in my head was killing me and when I tried to turn to my side, I felt a weight against my hand. Dropping my head to the side, I saw Wren all curled up beside me. She rested her cheek against my opened palm. Tendrils of her brown hair splayed messily against the pale sheets and she had changed out of the sweater she wore this morning. A small smile played on my face when I realised that she must've raided my wardrobe and took one of my shirts. The collar hung loosely on her shoulder, revealing her thin shoulder and the curve of her slender neck. The soft sounds of her breathing and her petite frame made her resemble so much like a kitten — she was everything loveable and adorable.

I smoothed my thumb on the round of her cheek and realised her slightly puffed up eyelids that were tinted with faint pink as though she had been crying. Gazing out of the window, I realised that it was already evening and both of us spent a day sleeping. My hand reached for her shoulder and nudged on her gently but she was too deep in her sleep. I called on her, "Wren, angel, wake up."

To my surprise, she shuddered awake. Her eyes flew open and stared right at me in shock. She rasped, "Aillard, are you feeling better now?"

"Yes, I am," I smiled, combing her hair but unable to tame those stubborn strands of wavy hair that curled weirdly with sleep. "Did I scare you awake?"

"No, you didn't," she exhaled a small yawn. "I was just surprised that I had also fallen asleep."

"It's late now. Do you want to have dinner before I send you back?" I offered, also adding to let her know, "I need to return to Switzerland tonight."

"Can't you rest here for a few more days?"

"No, angel. I've overstayed my duration," I smiled, still wondering why her eyes looked slightly reddened. "Why did you cry, Wren?"

"Talk to me, Aillard," Wren murmured softly. When she said that, the corners of her lips pulled slightly down into a frown. Her pale blue eyes were drowning me in those mesmerising gazes but when I felt her trying to look closer into my eyes, I averted my gaze out of panic and shock. Wren got close to me and rested her palms against my jaw, she whispered, "Look at me."

No, I can't do that.

"Aillard, please."

I can't do that.

"I already heard from Jeremiah."

Snapped out of my state, I turned my head sharply and faced her. My tone was crisp and my voice was filled with horror, I felt afraid but I had to ask, "What did you hear from him?"

"Everything that you have kept from me," Wren said simply. Her studying gaze was making me feel uneasy and she said it again, as though testing me, "I love you, Aillard."

I froze, I didn't know how to react. I wanted to say it back to her like how I always could whenever I was alone but the words didn't form — they didn't surface. I only ever said it once to her and she only ever heard those three words from me once. Looking towards her, I only felt panic and fear when I saw the sheen of tears forming in her eyes. It was only three words but I failed to articulate my feelings at all.

I expected Wren to leave. I expected her to feel frustrated and disappointed, but she did none of those. Instead, she wrapped her arms around my shoulder and hugged me tightly. She sniffled, "Aillard, why won't you tell me anything?"

"I can't," I strained, raking a hand through my hair.

Wren wanted my truth and a glimpse into the greatest demon I hid within the depths of my damned soul. It was the one that haunted all daylight out of me since the woman who gave birth to me died. It was born in my blood while it grew feeding on my soul. I was afraid of it, but I had never allowed myself to show. 

My fear for it rattled my own bones, let alone showing it to others.

Recollection: Twenty-two years ago
Aillard | 8

It was raining that day, how much I hated it. It was as though the heavens pitied this heartless woman without a single consideration of how I felt.

Dressed in a dark suit with a black umbrella held above me, I held onto a bouquet of lilies in my arms. Father forced me to bow towards the woman who didn't bother to play her role of a mother to her child. The devil who stood beside me made up a story to explain her death to me. He thought he could fool me, but who's the greater fool here?

He left me alone in front of her gravestone, saying that he would give me some time with her. I told the bodyguard behind me to leave, grabbing the umbrella from him and stayed silent until everyone disappeared from my vicinity. My crushing grip bent the lilies in my hand out of their beautiful shape and I threw it against the engraved name of that despicable woman on dark marble. The anger I felt was like a pair of enigmatic hands that wrapped around my beating heart, they were engulfing me in whole.

The lilies in the bouquet were scattered and destroyed, as they lay in a mess upon her grave. I had nothing to say except to blame this woman, "You could've just faked it all and let me live in a make-believe world."

Taking a small vial of gasoline from my pocket, I threw it on her again. The brittle glass shattered and the contents spilt. Lighting a fire, I threw it against her grave and burned the bridge. Above where she rests, it was a patchwork of burnt ashes and charred earth. I burned her grave, wishing that she would also burn in hell. While everyone tried to extinguish the fire, Clarence, my family's special assistant, pulled me to the side and asked, "Aillard, why did you do that?"

I looked over his shoulder, staring at the fire set wildly blazed and I laughed, "She deserves it."

"Why did she deserve it?" Clarence continued to ask, seemingly genuinely concerned.

"Because she loves me." I turned my head to the side, staring right at the devil who stood in the corner, nonchalantly smoking without care when his wife's grave was scorched. That was when I realised that the demon inside me was a greater fiend. Suddenly, there wasn't a tinge of remorse nor fear for burning the grave of the woman who gave birth to me. Smiling, I asked rhetorically, "That woman died because she loves me, doesn't she?"

I'd rather die than to love the spawn of the devil.

Those were her last words before she became a bloody mess.

Yes, that must be love.

Because that was the only love I knew.

That was the only love I knew till I met Wren.

The moment she stepped into my life, everything I knew toppled into an outrageous mishmash. Clarence brought her into the Illiades household two years after that incident and it was his fragile attempt to teach me the correct love. Against my father's will of wanting this little child to be someone who would serve me, Clarence convinced me that Wren would be my family instead. He asked me to watch over Wren and love her because just like me, she had no one. Before I learned that she was a girl, I treated her like my brother and she was the only family I ever known after living twelve years of my life not knowing anything. This girl struck into my life in a shattering crash, she was everything that resembled love and warmth — everything I was desperate for but I was also terribly frightened of.

Wrapping my hands around her, the nagging feeling of unworthiness and something much more sinister pierced through me again. The one dwelling within me got the best of me again, and all I wanted was to possess her and chain her to me. I want her. I need her. I breathe her. But the rational part of me was also screaming. I can't do that to her. I can't love her with all my twisted intentions. Those despairing thoughts were killing me and I couldn't feel any air in my lungs again, I squeezed her tighter to me and she had no intentions of letting me go either. I said in a pleading tone, "I want you the right way, Wren. I just don't know how—"

"Aillard, did you ever realise that there would never be a right way to love a person?" Wren comforted. She patted on my back, soothing me from my almost upsetting breakdown. Lowering her head and kissing on my shoulder, she said softly, "I love you and no matter how long it would take you, I'll wait for you to say it back to me. I'll wait for you, my love, so you can take your time."

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a/n:

i was feeling a huge block the past week and that's why the late update again. but things are getting into shape and aillard's story is coming up. i hope you're ready for it, because the unexpected is about to surprise you. 

please take care, dear readers. many love!