[Fic][Round 18] The Pain of an Echo
Author/Artist: crystaltear
Characters/Pairings: Conrad, Wolfram
Word Count: 329
Rating: PG
Any Warnings: None
Theme/Prompt being used: Backstory
Because Conrad was young and rather inexperienced in the ways of sensitivity, he blurted out his heritage to his younger brother without a thought of consequence. Because time had not yet taught him the true ramifications of being what he was-glares from people he didn’t care about were ignored, his older brother’s tantrums dismissed as just part of his personality rather than personally wounding-he had spent the week mourning the loss of his idol, his father, rather than sitting his little brother down and explaining things. Instead of coming to an understanding, the two boys didn’t see each other, and the news, still foreign and frightening to the youngest Mazoku prince, festered into distrust.
When Conrad was finally feeling up to socializing again, the first person he sought out was Wolfram. The blond was in his room with the curtains drawn, and Conrad wondered if he was ill as he entered the dark, uninviting room.
“Wolfram?” he called, and drew near the little figure sitting in a chair when he did not receive a reply. Although he could not see Wolfram’s face at the angle he was at, but he could see his brother’s little fists clenched into balls.
“Wolfram?” he repeated, softer the second time. He reached his hand out and laid his hand on Wolfram’s shoulder.
“Don’t touch me! You dirty half-breed.” The little blond screeched as he whirled around, his clenched fist connecting with Conrad’s arm. The unsatisfying ‘thump’ that sounded at the impact echoed in the now silent room, the lack of physical damage outdone by the painful emotional wound that would never heal quite right.
Because Conrad was young and inexperienced, he couldn’t recognize the pain in his own eyes was mirrored in the green, watering orbs in front of him. Caught in his own surprise, he couldn’t be patient, couldn’t be understanding, couldn’t hear the echo of his breaking heart resounding in the smaller body of his brother.
Instead, he ran.
Characters/Pairings: Conrad, Wolfram
Word Count: 329
Rating: PG
Any Warnings: None
Theme/Prompt being used: Backstory
Because Conrad was young and rather inexperienced in the ways of sensitivity, he blurted out his heritage to his younger brother without a thought of consequence. Because time had not yet taught him the true ramifications of being what he was-glares from people he didn’t care about were ignored, his older brother’s tantrums dismissed as just part of his personality rather than personally wounding-he had spent the week mourning the loss of his idol, his father, rather than sitting his little brother down and explaining things. Instead of coming to an understanding, the two boys didn’t see each other, and the news, still foreign and frightening to the youngest Mazoku prince, festered into distrust.
When Conrad was finally feeling up to socializing again, the first person he sought out was Wolfram. The blond was in his room with the curtains drawn, and Conrad wondered if he was ill as he entered the dark, uninviting room.
“Wolfram?” he called, and drew near the little figure sitting in a chair when he did not receive a reply. Although he could not see Wolfram’s face at the angle he was at, but he could see his brother’s little fists clenched into balls.
“Wolfram?” he repeated, softer the second time. He reached his hand out and laid his hand on Wolfram’s shoulder.
“Don’t touch me! You dirty half-breed.” The little blond screeched as he whirled around, his clenched fist connecting with Conrad’s arm. The unsatisfying ‘thump’ that sounded at the impact echoed in the now silent room, the lack of physical damage outdone by the painful emotional wound that would never heal quite right.
Because Conrad was young and inexperienced, he couldn’t recognize the pain in his own eyes was mirrored in the green, watering orbs in front of him. Caught in his own surprise, he couldn’t be patient, couldn’t be understanding, couldn’t hear the echo of his breaking heart resounding in the smaller body of his brother.
Instead, he ran.