✶ CHAPTER 03 - WINTER ✶

CW: abuse & homophobia

There were many times in Winter's life where his parents slapped him across the face and called him a whore. A slut. A failure. A freak. It was all the same. It all meant the same thing: he liked boys-- and he was not supposed to.

There were many times where Winter would just wait for Father to slip off his belt and whack Winter across the face with the cruel leather and the stinging, hard metal. He waited for Mother to spit in his face or push him down the stairs by 'accident'. It was all the same. It all meant the same thing.

And here he stood, at eighteen years old, still with the same fear and expectations as he faced his parents at dinner. It wasn't a fancy dinner. It was just their little family. The parents and their three children. The silence was pointed and uncomfortable as Winter set down his drink, casting a nervous glance at his parents, who ate casually without a care in the world, because they would never have to fear the other occupants at the table. Not like Winter had to.

"So, Winter," Tundra began in that insufferable, slippery tone of hers. Winter gritted his teeth, forcing his eyes to remain rooted on the tablecloth. "Feeling much better with having a fiancée? It's not long until you marry her."

Winter swallowed thickly, noticing the spike of hostility in the air. "Yeah," he mumbled. "I like her."

His parents knew that he didn't. But what was the point of telling them the truth if they didn't want it?

"I would hope so," Tundra replied, and Winter could feel her eyes piercing him. Still, he didn't look up. "It's only a matter of time until you're normal again."

His teeth gritted, jaw set with rage. His eyes were burning into the table and his body stood rigid, too tense to move an inch. The food tasted revolting in Winter's mouth, souring his throat and stomach. 

"It's too bad that the others can't be reverted like you," Narwhal joined in. "Queen Glacier has been suffering from this problem for a while. Getting married to that diseased idiot Blaze has only made it worse."

They cannot be serious, Winter thought, nearly laughing aloud, but he knew that they were. He had heard it all before. They seriously believe that liking your own gender is an illness?

Tundra hummed in agreement, chewing placidly on a slice of seal. 

Around Winter, his siblings made no addition to the conversation. They were as silent as Winter. He nervously cast his gaze upward to scan their faces for any sign of agreement. Icicle's brows were furrowed, an expression that Winter knew well on her face- suppressed anger. He glanced over to Hailstorm. He looked blank, but a shadow of worry crossed his face that Winter could not miss.

He felt a rush of relief. His siblings disagreed with their parents too, even if they would never admit it. Or even if one of them disliked Winter.

"Yeah," Winter forced out through his teeth. "What a shame." He finished his food, then stood up from the table. He grabbed his own dishes, muttered an "Excuse me, I need the bathroom," and rushed out of the dining room into the kitchen. He set the dishes down into the sink and hurried to the bathroom, where he shut the door quickly-- but cautiously, afraid to slam it-- and locked it tight. 

The prince collapsed to the floor, sliding down the wall to the cold tile below. He exhaled a shaky breath, emotions overtaking him, and began to sob. He knew that he had done nothing but cry recently, but he couldn't help it. He had kept everything pushed back for so long, and every little bit of sadness had begun to break free from his controlled façade. 

He cried quietly, years of practice had led up to being an expert at it. The one thing however, was that it was hard to make it look like he hadn't been crying. Whenever his parents would see him after a fit of tears, they would always glare him down, staring at the red eyebags that Winter could not get rid of.

He wished he could run out of this awful palace and into Qibli's arms, as he did in so many dreams of his. Qibli was his best friend and Winter loved him dearly. He didn't notice it at first, but as their friendship strengthened and Winter got to know him better, he realized that he had had a crush on Qibli at least the entire time he had known him. 

And now, it wasn't a crush. It was more than that. And Winter had no idea what to do. Qibli didn't love him back. He had looked for signs that his friend felt the same way, but the clues were desolate. There were no mutual feelings.

The boy stared at the shiny tile below his feet. How long could he hide here before his parents got mad? Winter was already pushing his luck by not waiting for his family to finish their dinner before leaving, and he didn't want to chance anything else. But he couldn't go back. He would just get teased and prodded at more by his parents, hoping to provoke a reaction out of him. And it was working. Winter couldn't stand it anymore. Each day got worse.

Winter stood up after what felt like fifteen minutes and crossed the bathroom to the window. He opened it, taking a peek outside. The sky was darkening. Could he hide in here all night? He sat down on the floor again, letting himself zone out, consumed in depressing thoughts.

The sky was dark as charcoal when a knock sounded at the door. Winter jumped and crawled to his feet, heart hammering wildly, and opened the door. When he was faced with Hailstorm's worried eyes, Winter let out a heavy sigh in immense relief.

"How long have you been in there?" His brother asked.

Winter rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged, trying to remain calm. He hoped Hailstorm couldn't see how red and watery his eyes were. "Since dinner."

"You never left?" Hailstorm asked, looking even more concerned. 

"No."

She frowned at him. "What is going on with you?" He lowered his voice and shut the door behind them, standing in the bathroom with Winter. "Is it about our parents being homophobic jerks?"

Winter very nearly rolled his eyes. "Yeah. What else would it be?"

Hailstorm shrugged. "That's why I'm asking. But does it really matter that much anymore? I mean, you like Lynx now. So why does it matter that you once liked a guy?"

"Because they hate me for who I am," Winter replied. He didn't add that he wasn't attracted to Lynx. Hailstorm didn't need to know. "They want me to be straight. They don't believe that being bisexual is a disease or some shit." His voice was beginning to wobble with the tears that were clogging his throat. Don't you dare cry, Winter. It does nothing to help.

Hailstorm sighed heavily and closed her eyes, pressing a hand to the bridge of her nose. "Listen, I understand that it sucks. Icicle does, too," he began. Winter braced himself for the words that were about to leave his mouth. "But things will get better now that you're with a girl. So just calm down and quit crying all the time. Our parents hate it."

"Yeah, I know they hate it," Winter muttered, averting his gaze away from his brother. "But I'm not happy. I-- whatever. It doesn't fucking matter." He sighed and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet, resting his elbows on his knees, head in hands. "They'll always find an excuse to hate me, no matter what I do."

Winter's nose began to sting as tears threatened to drip from his eyes like a leaky tap. He looked up at the mirror across from him on the wall, examining his eyes. He did look like he had been crying, but it wasn't too prominent. If he started crying again, he would have red eyebags and Father and Mother would hurt him again.

He recalled the last time they had found him sobbing. Father had slapped him harshly across the face, claiming 'I'll give you something to cry about', and Mother had thrown him outside, away from the guards who could ridicule her abusive parenting, and locked the doors all night.

Hailstorm reached out to pat his back reassuringly. Winter would have found comfort in it long ago, but now, everything felt so devoid of hope that the reassurance meant nothing anymore. He was trapped in this ordered life. Follow the rules, or you die.

Without another word, Winter sighed and got to his feet. He brushed past Hailstorm, opened the door, and descended down the hallway to his bedroom. Once inside, he locked the door and flopped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The room was dark as the skies outside, with a small sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains, and an indigo tint that followed.

He titled his head to glance at the clock. 11:57. He could just fall asleep to avoid his family. That was a good enough excuse. 

⋆ ☆ ⋆

Swirls of snowflakes spun in the air as the stars shone and winked down at him. Winter adjusted his position on the snow covered rooftop, hoping not to slip. It was a far drop down to the courtyard.

A hand that trailed down his neck made Winter remember that someone was beside him. Qibli, with those obsidian eyes, obscure charm, and intense demeanour. Even in the coldest winds of the Ice Kingdom, a bead of sweat followed the movement of Qibli's hand, tracing down to his collarbone. There was another touch, on the other side of his neck, something hard and cold and equally familiar as the other boy.

As Qibli's warm hand ran down his body, the barrel of the gun moved upward. Winter was still, but nothing scared him. 

The gun had reached his temple while his hand had reached his waist. "Would you die for me?"

Winter only smiled, and he felt a shiver run through Qibli's body as he knew the answer.

"Would you beg for your life before I took it?" Asked Qibli. Another question.

"Why would I beg for something that is already yours?"

⋆ ☆ ⋆

He woke up to a knock on his door. Winter turned over to the clock. 8:16. The room was lit now and the sky was horribly bright.

"Winter!"

Shit, that's Lynx, Winter realized, throwing off the blankets hurriedly. He stumbled to the door, trying to blink off sleep. He noticed that he hadn't even changed out of the clothes he wore the night before.

He unlocked and opened the door as he rubbed his eyes. Lynx's blurry face greeted him right before his eyes adjusted. "Three moons," she groaned dramatically in relief. "Finally you woke up. The door was locked and I needed fresh clothes."

Winter let her in and rummaged through the closet with her. She walked around like she owned the place (which she kind of did) and he found it funny. "Where did you sleep? With Snowfall?"

"Yeah," Lynx answered, removing a sweater from a hanger. She sorted through a stack of pants and skirts, picking out a pair of loose black jeans. "Why'd you go to bed so early? And in your clothes?"

Winter picked up a white dress shirt and a waistcoat. "I went to bed so I could avoid my parents," he replied as grabbed a tie. "I guess I felt too shitty to get undressed."

"Damn," was all she said before kicking Winter out of the closet and shutting herself in to get dressed. He stood outside the doors with an exasperated look on his face, holding his clothes in his arms.

"I didn't get any clean pants," Winter called out to Lynx through the closet door. "Can you toss me some so I can at least get dressed out here?"

"Yeah, yeah," Lynx replied, and he could hear her shuffling around.

"And don't give me an ugly pair!" He added.

"I won't! Calm your tits!" She called back, then opened the door for a split second to toss him a pair of jeans, then slammed the door shut. 

"Thank you," Winter said with a sarcastic tone, smiling amusedly at her words. He shook his head, rolling his eyes.

As Winter slid off the old shirt, Lynx asked, "Are you trying to look good for your friend tonight?" 

"Who? Qibli?" He said, taken by surprise. He stepped out of his old pants and put on his new clothes. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Are you done getting changed?"

Winter tied the tie and straightened it out. "Yeah."

Lynx opened the closet doors and stepped out in a clean outfit. "Don't act stupid, Winter," she said, pointing a finger towards him as he fumbled with the tie. "You have feelings for him, don't you?"

The prince blinked, staring at her with wide eyes, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "I think so."

She snorted in response. "No, you know so," she corrected, striding over to the nightstand next to the bed and grabbing a brush that sat on the top. Lynx ran it through her light brown hair. "I've seen how you look at him. And I've seen how he looks at you."

"He-" Winter began, then faltered as his brain failed to give him any words. "He doesn't like me, Lynx."

"Oh, please," Lynx huffed through her nose in laughter, now applying perfume and chapstick. "That guy is obsessed with you. How have you not noticed?"

"All I've noticed is that he has no interest in me," Winter snapped, gradually becoming tense and uncomfortable with the topic. Lynx promptly sprayed him with her perfume.

He coughed and spluttered as the scent hit his nose. "AGH, what the fuck!" He yelped. "Why'd you do that?!"

"If you just confessed to him already, maybe you would feel much better with your life," she explained, pointing the bottle of perfume towards him threateningly. "I'm still happily with Snowfall despite being chained to your dumb ass."

Winter rubbed his nose. "Rude. And no thank you. He doesn't like me."

"You are hopeless," Lynx stated. "He's outside in the courtyard, by the way. Waiting for you."

"Shit, really?" Winter yelped, nerves lighting up. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? Oh moons, I look like shit." He sprinted over to the mirror, eyeing his dishevelled reflection. 

Lynx was already making her way out of the doorway. "You always look like that," she commented without even looking back at him. Then she was gone down the hallways, leaving to go find her girlfriend.

Winter bit worriedly at his cheek, glanced back at the halls where Lynx had disappeared, then at the mirror again. Do I really look like this everyday? He wondered. Oh, fuck it. He's waiting for me. I have to go now. I can't keep him waiting.

He slipped on some boots, ran out the door, and raced down the staircase. Once in the courtyard, he frantically glanced around in every direction for his friend. 

"Winter?"

The prince jumped, then whirled around to face the voice. It was Qibli. His lips curved into a bright smile. "Hey, am I late?"

"No," Qibli said, smiling back at him. He probably was late, and Qibli was probably lying to him to make him feel better. "How'd you know I was out here?"

Winter draped an arm across his shoulders, offering warmth. "Lynx told me."

Was he crazy, or did Qibli's jaw clench at her name? "Oh, that's nice of her." Then, he raised a brow at Winter. "What?"

Winter realized that his forehead was creased in worry. "You just- you looked mad when I mentioned Lynx. Is there something wrong?"

He could have sworn that Qibli looked mad again. There was something dark and macabre in his eyes that disappeared in a heartbeat. "No, nothing's wrong," he answered innocently. He sounded completely honest and genuine. "Why would I have anything against Lynx? I'm happy for you, Winter."

Winter shook his head. "Nevermind. I don't know why I thought that," he assured. "And thanks."

Qibli smiled, and Winter shivered. Something was wrong between Qibli and Lynx. He just didn't know what it was.

Qibli couldn't be jealous, right?

He didn't even love Winter.

Right?