Chapter Text
"How are you going to break this news to him?" Yotha questioned, voice gloomy and thick with sorrow.
Faifa stared straight ahead, his fingers tightening around the cold steel chains. "I don't know, Yotha. I honestly don't know."
He wasn't lying. He found himself staring towards the farthest right corner of their street. His cause of misery was probably sleeping like an angel at his house right now, unaware of the heartbreak Faifa was going to bring his way.
The night breeze was chilling but the twin brothers couldn't bring themselves to go back to their house. The abandoned park that rarely anyone in their street used and the rusty swings seemed better compared to the home, where they could not longer be together.
"You know, we can't hide this from him, forever." Yotha remarked. "He knows today was the day of the final judgement."
Faifa was trying hard to swallow past the lump in his throat.
"He was probably waiting." Faifa replied. "For us to get back, to...to know what happened."
But he must have fallen asleep. They both knew it. Faifa was suddenly reminded of the fact that Wine was just a 14 year old boy, who must have played some video games today because Faifa wasn't there today to keep him company and then fell asleep, tired from doing absolutely nothing. A 14 year old boy whose world revolved around Faifa and to some extent, Yotha.
How was Faifa supposed to deliver the news and uproot Wine's entire being? How was he supposed to look his Prince in the eye and tell him he was leaving him? He, himself, was just a 15 year old. These responsibilities seemed a little too much to bear.
He planted his feet firm on the ground, stopping the to and fro movement of the swing. Yotha stopped too, sensing Faifa's dilemma.
Frankly, Yotha hadn't processed yet what this judgement meant.
He recalled the happenings of the day, how his mother and father sighed in relief when the court said their divorce was approved, how the magistrate slowly breached the topic of custody.
Newton was already off to college, being five years older than him and Faifa. He was an adult, Which left only Yotha's and Faifa's life up for grabs. He remembered how his ears rang when the magistrate uttered....The parents will split responsibility, taking in one of the twins separately, until they turn 20 years of age and become legal adults.
Yotha had taken a full minute before the meaning of the entire sentence had registered in his brain and as soon as he did, pain as sharp as ice pierced through him. Instinctively, his eyes found Faifa, who looked frozen in time, if not for the slightest tremble of his lips. They were going to be separated.
Everything happened in a blur. Their mother's advocate was saying something along the lines that she would take care of Faifa. A whiplash of electricity had shot through both of the brothers. It went unspoken in the air that both Faifa and Yotha hadn't expected him to be picked by their mother. Yotha was devastated and Faifa had rushed to hold his hand, knowing Yotha was the closer one with their mother than him.
He had squeezed Yotha's hand gently, hoping to be reassuring but Yotha's shoulder had remained hunched, his eyes cemented on his lap.
Faifa had zoned out after their father's advocate agreed on behalf on their father. Because he had other things to process, about what this meant for him.
If he was to live with his mom, his entire life in his hometown would have to be uprooted because there was just no way his mother would live in the same town or even close by. He imagined that they would be moving to his maternal grandparents' home, a town that was in completely different province. One that would puts hours of distance between him and his present life. One that put hundreds of kilometres between him and Yotha. Between him and Wine.
Wine.
If he were to close his eyes, he could remember the tiny boy clinging to Faifa's equally tiny form, a high pitched voice shouting P'Faifa, P'Faifa, P'Faifa.
He remembered the first time he had met Wine, they were neighbours after all. His parents often used to say that they took Yotha and Faifa to visit Wine after he was born, that Wine had clutched Faifa's finger tight during one such visit and Faifa had cried because Wine wouldn't let go of his finger. But he doesn't remember any of it.
He barely remembered memories of playing around with Wine when they were small kids, except for the first playdate or few baby sitting sessions arranged by their parents. Faifa and Yotha had almost immediately accepted the boy into their play circle, but Wine however, for his age, had remained sceptical of the twins. He had refused to share his toys, had refused to eat cookies made by their mother, had just sat in a corner, looking so sad.
Faifa had noticed him staring at his red Power rangers toy sometimes, looking away quickly when Faifa noticed. Faifa had pouted, that was his favourite toy.
But after an hour, Faifa had gently crawled to the boy who refused to spare him a glance, eyes glistening with unshed tears. He had stared at him, before holding out the Power Ranger. The younger boy's doe eyes widened, seemingly more big than they already were. Faifa had encouragingly nodded, asking the boy to take it and join him. A tiny outstretched hand had took the toy and a small shy smile had greeted him, widening his own grin.
That smile was what Faifa remembered, and will continue to remember, now and forever.
Faifa remembered when during the summer of one of the shared years that Wine had to repeat first grade because of grades or something, now making the boy two years apart from him, in terms of schooling. How Wine had pouted and thrown a tantrum, because Yotha and Faifa were leaving Wine behind and moving forward.
He looked up, the branches of Cassia shaking in the wind. He remembered planting this tree when he was five years old, with Yotha and Wine in tow. He remembered how diligently they took turns watering this plant, every day. Until Wine had slipped and scraped his knee bad. Since then, Faifa had accompanied Wine during his days to water the plant, not allowing him to lift even a finger.
The event may have been just another fall for Wine, but it had shaken up Faifa to see him, crying his eyes out and knees bruised, with fresh blood flowing. He didn't realise why he had reacted so strongly back then, but now he thought he knew.
He remembered the first time the cassia bloomed, five years ago. Golden shower of petals raining down with every gust of wind, had made Wine jump around in happiness. The sight had made something warm bloom inside Faifa's heart.
After that incident, it had become a ritual for Wine, Yotha and Faifa to end up under the tree, more often than not. After playing football, After completing homework, After coming home from school.
He remembered their silly plans to build a treehouse atop, just for the three of them.
He remembered Wine's favourite snack, he remembered Wine's favourite drink, He remembered the subjects Wine struggled with, He remembered Wine's favourite cartoon, He remembered everything.
At fifteen, with feelings of adolescence creeping in at full blown, Faifa realised that he had started to feel the stirring of a different kind of affection for Wine. It wasn't the playful affinity he shared with his classmates. It wasn't the easy going banter he had going on with other neighborhood kids. It was something warmer, a quiet delight that settled in his chest whenever Wine's laughter echoed through their house.
He found himself listening to Wine's words, intently, wanting to etch them into memory. He found himself unable to look away, his gaze drawn to the way sunlight caught in Wine's dark hair.
He knew Wine, oblivious at fourteen, simply saw Faifa as one of the older brothers or friends he never had. Part of Faifa was disgusted that he was starting to feel this way, despite knowing there was nothing fundamentally wrong with his feelings. Purely because he thought he was betraying Wine's trust in him.
Wine was a quiet type of person, that however didn't mean he had no admirers lined up. Wine would try his best to blend with the noises of the background, but his aura always shone bright, drawing attention of girls and boys.
Faifa was used to feeling sharp bursts of pain and jealousy when he knew Wine's classmates or friends were approaching him with the intent of liking him, romantically. But all the queasiness would be erased when at the end of the school day, his Wine would walk across the courtyard to find him and Yotha. Would cling onto his arm, often asking for a piggyback ride.
The multiple sleepovers, initially just because and later, an effort from Wine's parents to shield Faifa and Yotha from their parents' quarrels didn't help his case any. Because he was now attuned to every action of Wine, when the boy cuddled closer, heat simmered at an all time high along the surfaces in contact. When the boy breathed into Faifa's neck, hugging him, Faifa was drawn to the way Wine's hair smelled.
When the boy placed his leg over Faifa's, an innocent gesture on his part, Faifa's blood rushed down, further south. A visceral reaction of adolescence. An erection that left him feeling terrible because this was Wine that he had in his arms, in the shared bed but also exhilarated because this was Wine that he had in his arms, in the shared space within the confines of the thick bedsheet.
Faifa believed Yotha was oblivious to his feelings for Wine.
But, as close as the three of them were together, as a trio, Faifa knew Wine and him had a deeper, adored connection, just the two of them and he cherished those moments with just them, a sense of privacy, the casual brush of Wine's arm when they shared icecream, the inside jokes of just the two of them, the feeling of Wine's trust.
But now, the familiar tempo of their lives was about to be fractured. Faifa would have to move away. The news hit Faifa like a physical blow. The thought of leaving his hometown, leaving Yotha, and most acutely, leaving Wine, filled him with a hollow ache.
He tried to imagine a future without Wine's shy but enthusiastic smiles brightening his days, without the possibility of their casual friendship blossoming into something more. The unspoken weight of his feelings for Wine felt heavier now, a secret he might never get to share, to explore.
"I have to tell him." Faifa whispered, the words sounded alien. Yotha's palm was on his shoulder. Faifa gently shrugged it off, pushing off the swing.
"Let's go home, Yotha."
Home. What a joke of a word.
Yotha hadn't replied but followed Faifa along. Faifa's feet refused to move when they reached Wine's house. He found himself staring into the vast space between him and Wine's window.
Yotha bumped into him, clearly not as alert as he tried to portray.
They rushed into their bedroom, as quickly as possible despite their parents' words of protest. When they settled into their respective beds, sleep was far away for Faifa. His mind kept coming back to Wine's approaching reaction when Faifa shared the conclusion drawn by fate for them, awaiting in their cards.