thm. blue – billie eilish summary. quickly, suddenly, does everything hit rune all at once.
You were born bluer than a butterfly Beautiful and so deprived of oxygen Colder than your father’s eyes He never learned to sympathize with anyone
I don’t blame you But I can’t change you Don’t hate you (Don’t hate you) But we can’t save you (But we can’t save you)
You were born reachin’ for your mother’s hands Victim of your father’s plans to rule the world Too afraid to step outside Paranoid and petrified of what you’ve heard
But they could say the same ‘bout me I sleep ‘bout three hours each night Means only twenty-one a week now, now And I could say the same ‘bout you Born blameless, grew up famous too Just a baby born blue now, now
I don’t blame you (I don’t blame you) But I can’t change you Don’t hate you But we can’t save you (We can’t save you)
When Rune woke up one day in the Baldesion Annex feeling a terrible, inexplicable ache in his heart, it took until noon for the Scions – namely, the twins, who were curious as to his whereabouts and armed with pastries from the Last Stand – to find him still in his room, curled up under his covers and hugging a pillow as if his life depended on it.
“Rune?” Alisaie called out softly, slowly sticking her head through the small opening she made for herself at the door, and startled to find him still in bed. “…oh.” The pillow that he was hugging was covering his face, but from her view, she could only note the tangled mess that was Rune’s long hair and his blankets.
Behind her, Alphinaud tried craning his neck over his sister’s head, curious as to what she was seeing. “What’s wrong-” Immediately, he was shushed by Alisaie, who instinctively made room for him so he, too, can see what she saw. “…oh!”
“Still asleep at this time of day?” Alisaie whispered, eyebrow raised. “The man that wakes up at the crack of dawn no matter what time he gets to bed?”
“Would it such a crime to let him rest a little more?” Alphinaud whispered back. “If one was to consider everything he’s gone through.” His twin shot him such a withering look accompanied by an eye roll that he nearly shrunk away from, but very bravely stood his ground against.
“Of course it isn’t,” she retorted. “It’s just a little strange, don’t you think?” Alphinaud couldn’t help but agree, and nodded.
Although the Scions would constantly bid Rune to take as much rest as he could at every opportunity, the Viera still would rise at the same time as the sun did - much to Y’shtola’s chagrin in particular. Knowing how much that particular habit of his seemed impossible to break, finding him dead asleep at noon certainly was strange.
“Let’s come back later to give him the pastries, then,” Alphinaud suggested. “Only the Twelve know how much rest he needs.” Alisaie nodded, and closed the door just as slowly as she opened it earlier with a soft click.
If only they had known that Rune was awake the entire time. Or what feeling was haunting him – and that he knew he was the only one throughout the universe to feel it.
Blue eyes, as blue as the morpho that resided in Elpis.
Blue eyes, normally so frosted over with apathy, that would light up only at the sight of him.
Blue eyes, as cold and lifeless as he was alive and dead.
Rune knew that, somewhere at the end of the universe, Zenos was well and truly gone. So why did it hurt?
Was it the fact that he may not be able to return to the aetherial sea? Was it the cold, aching loneliness he had left him in after they had finally, finally admitted their feelings for each other after so long — albeit through a duel to the down to the very wire, with their lifestrings shredded beyond repair? Was it abandoning him after the latter had followed him to the very end, at a place where, at a place where even the Scions were forced to retreat? Was it because, even in the face of true despair, he had believed in him the most?
…
He had to know more about him. And so, with that small modicum of resolve did Rune roll off the bed and freed himself from the tangle of his covers.
…
That night, it was as if Rune had sank into dreamless sleep – that is, until he felt a hand gently take a strand of his hair and pull it upward, brushing it between their fingers as if in contemplation. Silently, he figured that it would be about time that another ghost should begin haunting him, and who better to join their ranks than the one that he had abandoned in an aetherless realm?
Without opening his eyes, he mumbled, still in and out of sleep, “What do you want?”
A hum. “Such cold reception for one that misses me so.”
“I don’t.”
“Of course.”
Silence. The ghost continued to play with his hair. Rune tried to ignore what feeling swelled in his chest from the act.
“You should cut this sometime. Is it not getting tiresome having such long hair in the midst of battle?” his ghost mused.
“The enemy does the cutting for me,” Rune responded, continuing to keep his eyes closed even though he knew full well that sleep was no longer coming back to him. “I could care less. Besides, it’s never impeded me that much.”
“How strange.”
The silence that followed irked him, and he immediately sat up and stared at Zenos right in his eyes.
“What are we doing?” Rune demanded, and the former crown prince merely gave him one of his knowing smiles.
“What do you think, my dear friend?” Zenos asked just as immediately. “You’re conversing with someone long dead. Don’t let your comrades catch you in the act.” Rune rolled his eyes and fell back onto the covers of the bed.
“Not the first time I’ve had to talk with the dead,” he mumbled, defeated. Zenos hummed at the response.
“Do you suppose I’ll be the last?”
“I hope so.” Rune turned to his side, facing away from Zenos. “There’s already too many of them to count.”