Iris follows the trail of Wilhelm's finger and find himself stifling a sigh. Where does he even begin? How does he even begin?
"It was a lesson."
It sounds simple enough, doesn't it? Iris almost wants to just leave it there, let it lie however Wilhelm would like it to, giving just enough that the other boy can take it and fill in the blanks in whatever way would make him the most comfortable. It feels almost wrong to tell him the full story, here where they'd been carefully cultivating a quiet and safe space for just themselves... but Wilhelm had been honest with Iris at every turn, and shared more of himself than he perhaps ever wanted to. What kind of friend would Iris be, if he can't even offer the same sort of courtesy back?
"My mom's the leader of a group of demiflora — that's what people who're born with powers are called — and because of her, because she makes sure none of us use our powers, and that we all fall in line and just live out our lives pretending living in a tower and never seeing the outside world is good and fine, we get to all live safely without having to fear getting hunted down for parts, or just because of who we are."
He forces himself to keep talking, and finds it gets easier and easier the more he just does it, rather than think about it.
"But I told you before, right? How bad I was at following rules."
He searches Wilhelm's eyes, wondering if he's given enough pieces now for it to all sort of fall in place together.
"I liked my powers too much. I liked how using them made me feel. And I would use them every chance I got, but the worst she'd do is send me to my room without dinner, or ground me. It didn't really seem like that big of a deal... Then one day somebody from the outside snuck into the Tower. It as the first time I ever met anybody from the outside, but he was trying to get something of his. Something... that belonged to his family. And that's when I found out my mom was working with the very people she said she was protecting us all from. So I hid him. And I lied about it. And she didn't like that."
He can still remember her ordering him to strip down. He can still remember handing her the marker that she used to draw those cuts all over his body.
How could he have known what would happen? She had told him she loved him, before.
"So she made an example out of me. In front of everybody."
He looks up to meet Wilhelm's eyes, and there's something a little like an apology in his. There's no regret here, in being open and honest with Wilhelm, but there is, perhaps, a little bit of a disappointment. That in doing so, that electric and delicate atmosphere between them shifted into something that would leave a bad taste in one's mouth. If he could do it all over again, he would have chosen a better time and a better place, or maybe he wouldn't have said anything at all just to keep any trace of worry or pity out of the lines of Wilhelm's face.
But, well, it's out now. Aired like the dirty laundry it is, hanging heavy between them. The phantom pain he would still occasionally feel seems so very miniscule in comparison to the waiting he sits through now, wondering how at all Wilhelm will react.
cw: abuse, humiliation, allusions to organ trafficking
"It was a lesson."
It sounds simple enough, doesn't it? Iris almost wants to just leave it there, let it lie however Wilhelm would like it to, giving just enough that the other boy can take it and fill in the blanks in whatever way would make him the most comfortable. It feels almost wrong to tell him the full story, here where they'd been carefully cultivating a quiet and safe space for just themselves... but Wilhelm had been honest with Iris at every turn, and shared more of himself than he perhaps ever wanted to. What kind of friend would Iris be, if he can't even offer the same sort of courtesy back?
"My mom's the leader of a group of demiflora — that's what people who're born with powers are called — and because of her, because she makes sure none of us use our powers, and that we all fall in line and just live out our lives pretending living in a tower and never seeing the outside world is good and fine, we get to all live safely without having to fear getting hunted down for parts, or just because of who we are."
He forces himself to keep talking, and finds it gets easier and easier the more he just does it, rather than think about it.
"But I told you before, right? How bad I was at following rules."
He searches Wilhelm's eyes, wondering if he's given enough pieces now for it to all sort of fall in place together.
"I liked my powers too much. I liked how using them made me feel. And I would use them every chance I got, but the worst she'd do is send me to my room without dinner, or ground me. It didn't really seem like that big of a deal... Then one day somebody from the outside snuck into the Tower. It as the first time I ever met anybody from the outside, but he was trying to get something of his. Something... that belonged to his family. And that's when I found out my mom was working with the very people she said she was protecting us all from. So I hid him. And I lied about it. And she didn't like that."
He can still remember her ordering him to strip down. He can still remember handing her the marker that she used to draw those cuts all over his body.
How could he have known what would happen? She had told him she loved him, before.
"So she made an example out of me. In front of everybody."
He looks up to meet Wilhelm's eyes, and there's something a little like an apology in his. There's no regret here, in being open and honest with Wilhelm, but there is, perhaps, a little bit of a disappointment. That in doing so, that electric and delicate atmosphere between them shifted into something that would leave a bad taste in one's mouth. If he could do it all over again, he would have chosen a better time and a better place, or maybe he wouldn't have said anything at all just to keep any trace of worry or pity out of the lines of Wilhelm's face.
But, well, it's out now. Aired like the dirty laundry it is, hanging heavy between them. The phantom pain he would still occasionally feel seems so very miniscule in comparison to the waiting he sits through now, wondering how at all Wilhelm will react.