✶ CHAPTER 04 - QIBLI ✶

CW: vomiting

Two days had passed since Winter found out his hate for Lynx. Qibli was on thin ice if he ever found out the truth.

There had been a meeting in the throneroom today, and it had been an hour after, and Qibli hadn't seen Winter since.

It wasn't unusual, but the problem was that Winter had immediately disappeared when the meeting ended. Qibli had watched him leave through the doors, but as he looked around the palace for him around ten minutes later, Winter was nowhere around.

Qibli entered the desolate ballroom, his shoes clicking on the tile, echoing across the vast space. The ballroom was dark. The only light was the moon filtering in through the frost-painted windows.

He heard shuffling from the bar, and walked cautiously towards it. The boy peered over the shiny countertop, and was taken aback by the sight of Winter kneeled on the floor, bottles surrounding him. Most were empty, while a few had been spilled. One still remained in his hand, which had a loose grip on the bottle. Winter barely looked up at Qibli as he stared down at the mess of his friend.

"Winter?" He called out, and when the prince didn't respond, Qibli climbed over the countertop and crouched at his side, pushing bottles out of the way. "Winter, are you okay?" He asked and he gently added, "Can you look at me?"

Winter's faraway gaze flitted over to Qibli's. He was able to see the puffy, watery look to his eyes, and felt a pang in his heart. Winter had been crying and drinking, wasting himself away, and Qibli wasn't there to help him. What kind of friend was he?

The drunken boy swayed closer to Qibli, a dizzy, drained smile on his face. "Hey, Qibli," he slurred out, blond hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. He extended a hand to lazily graze Qibli's cheek, and leaned even closer. "Whatt'ya doin' here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he replied, unable to move away from Winter's face, inches away from his. "Are you all right?"

"Just fine," Winter slurred with a way-too-loud laugh. It echoed through the empty room. Winter groaned and rubbed his temples as a frown formed on his lips. Qibli's brows furrowed in concern.

"Yeah, right," Qibli muttered under his breath, then wrapped an arm around Winter's back, ushering him to his feet. "Come on, get up." 

Winter stumbled to his feet, leaning heavily on Qibli. He linked their arms together as Qibli picked up the discarded bottles of alcohol laying on the floor. Once finished, he led his drunken friend out of the bar, out of the ballroom, and up the stairs to Winter's room. He shut the door behind them and sat Winter down on the bed, who was fully incapable of moving without help, far too drunk.

Qibli sat down next to him, distantly wondering where Lynx was. It was late. Why wasn't she in the room?

Suddenly, Winter hurled. Qibli jumped with surprise, watching him hunch over the floor, puke escaping his mouth. Qibli felt sick himself. As Winter sat back, Qibli rubbed his back soothingly, then got up to fetch paper towels from the bathroom. He returned with paper towels, cleaned up the mess, and left to the bathroom again to throw the garbage away. When he came back, Winter looked even sadder than before. Tears glimmered on his cheeks in the low light, staring at his hands.

He sat down next to Winter, pulled him in close, and rubbed his back. Winter leaned into his touch, his shoulders shaking each sob. Qibli reached a hand upward to card through the strands of his hair.

"What's wrong, baby?" He asked, the petname slipping off his lips without a single thought. He would have apologized for the name, but he wasn't sure if Winter was sober enough to even notice it.

"I'm sorry," was all Winter replied, barely comprehensible. "I'm sorry, Qibli, I'm sorry."

He held him tighter and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head. He closed his eyes, feeling the trembling of Winter's body against his. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Winter."

"Yes I do," Winter mumbled.

"What is it, then?" 

Winter fell silent for a while. Qibli figured that he wasn't going to get a response out of him, so he was about to help Winter go to bed, when he mumbled something.

He froze to listen, but everything leaving Winter's mouth was incomprehensible. Then, he heard one thing. 

"I'm sorry for being in love with you," Winter slurred out. Qibli could hear the sob in his throat as his voice rose near the end of his sentence.

Qibli disentangled himself from Winter, holding him by the shoulders, and looked him in the eyes. "What?"

Winter looked away, trembling violently as he choked on sobs. He hiccuped and sniffed, wiping his running nose. "I love you, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry--" He broke off with a new wave of tears and leaned against Qibli. He wrapped an arm around him. 

"I'm sorry, please don't tell anybody, I'm sorry," Winter pleaded into his chest. "Please don't hurt me, I'm really sorry, I know it's wrong."

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay," Qibli soothed with a gentle tone. "It's okay, Winter, look at me."

He raised his head to look at him, swaying, eyes drooping, too tired and drunk to stay awake. Then before Qibli could say or do anything else, Winter slumped against his shoulder, shut his eyes, and fell asleep.

⋆ ☆ ⋆

It was the next day, and Winter hadn't spoken a word to him about the night before. But finally, the two were in the same room together. 

Qibli stood apart from the leaving royals, standing up against the wall. He stood motionless, waiting, watching, for a particular face amongst the sea of people. For the entire meeting, Winter had held Qibli's gaze from across the room. Unblinking, direct eye-contact, staring into the soul. Qibli wasn't going to let Winter get away again. He had to talk to him. Winter had been avoiding him all day.

There he was. Qibli had nearly missed him, despite him standing still from across the room. He still stared at Qibli. Their eyes never wavered. As the majority of the crowd cleared, the room was quieter. Only a few conversations lingered between people who decided to stay to chat quietly.

The silence was loud as they stared at each other, unmoving. Some unknown emotion quivered in the air-- and both of them felt it.

Qibli beckoned him over. Winter strode across the floor, his footsteps echoing through the hall. Once he stood before Qibli, he grabbed the prince by the arm and ushered him outside the room.

He led Winter down the hallways, down to where there was nobody around. Qibli opened the door to Winter's bedroom, closed the door behind them with a click, and pressed the prince against the wall. He grasped his suit, balling the fabric in his hands.

They stood a couple inches apart. Qibli searched Winter's gaze, staring him down.

It felt as though the world was slowing down, narrowing in to this moment. He had to tell Winter how he felt. There were no more secrets. He took a breath in, feeling closer to Winter than ever. He hesitated again, but still held Winter's gaze firmly. "I love you, Winter."

The prince's eyes widened and brimmed with tears. He turned his head away from Qibli. "No you don't," he whispered shakily. "You're lying," Winter said. "You don't--" he broke off with a choking sob, his lip trembling. He looked desperate and scared.

Qibli reached forward with his free hand to cup his cheek. He ran a thumb over his soft skin, feeling the wetness of a tear that escaped from Winter's eyes. "Winter, I've loved you for so long. I've dreamt of you. I've restrained myself so many times." Qibli said, hands trembling on Winter's skin. "I'm desperate, Winter. I've never been this fucking desperate in my whole life."

The prince broke down. A sob wracked his body as he melted into Qibli's comforting embrace. Qibli reached a hand upward to cup Winter's cheek, grazing his finger across his cheek. He pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. "Hey, it's okay, it's okay," he murmured. "We'll be okay, I promise." He gently pulled Winter's head upward to look him in the eyes. Winter was shaking, his eyes glimmering with tears, his face puffy and red. He sniffed as a tear ran down his cheek.

A strange look shadowed his face, and Qibli had no idea what it was. It scared him. It almost looked like he was recounting a memory. Qibli wiped his tears away and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Hey, it's alright," he murmured. But Winter shook his head, closing his eyes.

"No, no, it's not," the prince choked out. "We can't be together. No matter how much I wish, no matter how much I need you, we can't." He sniffed and gasped in short breaths. Qibli could hear the strain in his throat.

"But we can make it work," Qibli reasoned. "The only thing that matters right now, is that we love each other."

Winter stared at him suddenly, his eyes wide. His chest heaved as he tried to regulate his breathing. Then he closed his eyes and leaned against Qibli's neck. "We can't do this, Qibli. We can't be in love. We can't be together," he said, sounding entirely miserable. "I'm getting married soon."

Qibli's heart broke and ached painfully. "I know," he murmured. "But we can always try."

He could feel Winter trembling slightly against him. "Maybe," he said. "But it's too much to risk."

"I'd risk everything for you," Qibli said simply.

Winter raised his head to look at him, faint surprise in his gaze. "So would I, for you."

Qibli wasn't sure who moved first, but their lips pressed together and they melted into one another. His eyes fluttered shut.

Their lips separated, but they still remained leaned against each other.

Winter stared back at him, his mouth parted slightly as he breathed heavily. His wide eyes were finally free of tears. Qibli stared back, trembling slightly. Slowly, Qibli pulled Winter's hand upward and pulled the ring off his finger. It fell on the floor, clattering loudly. For another moment, they stared at each other, still shaking.

Then, Winter surged forward and kissed him. Passionate and desperate, they melted into each other and stumbled backwards, pressing up against the desk. In a quick, messy motion, Winter fell against it and heavily sat on the top of the desk, pulling Qibli closer with a hand intertwined in his curly hair. They had been craving this for so long. Qibli gasped and they pulled apart to take in a breath, then almost immediately closed the gap between them again. Winter removed his hand from Qibli's hair and grabbed his waist, steadying him. With heaving chests and flushed cheeks, they separated, basking in each other's gazes.

"I love you, Winter," Qibli murmured, gazing warmly into his eyes. He felt like he was slowly dying in Winter's arms. He knew that this was a dangerous risk, and he would most likely end up dead, but he would be happy to die if he would be in Winter's embrace.

Winter's gray-blue gaze softened at Qibli's words. "I love you too, darling." Qibli found his eyes entrancingly gorgeous. As he stared into them, he felt like his soul was falling into the stormy depths of his eyes, taking Qibli to Winter's very soul, broken and desperate for the other. Qibli was dying.

A small smile ticked at Qibli's lips. "'Darling'?" He quoted, voice cautiously soft, as if he were afraid to break the moment between them.

Winter almost looked guilty. He stared back at Qibli, a tortured look still written over his face. He smiled back, nervous. "Is that okay?"

He nearly sobbed. "Oh, Winter," he breathed, his expression softening entirely. "Winter, my love, of course it's okay. You can call me whatever you want."