(Sinclair)
***
[A/N: One isolated transphobia reference in a paragraph. Also, remember this is Sinclair's POV.]
***
With Leo staring at me, I wasn't entirely sure how to react. I knew informing him about my relations with Algor would sacrifice the trust we built together, but I was equally screwed if I didn't speak. I pondered the best way to approach him from the other side of a cracked slab as his eyes drilled into my psyche, prying for answers I wasn't sure how to give—even if I was willing to do so.
"Sinclair," he insisted. "Why can't you explain that? Do you want to tell me pretty lies and deny that happened? Do you want to tell me the truth? Pick something."
He swallowed. "Just tell me anything."
I kept silent, sipping on my wine. I was sure my eyes were the same color as the substance. Why did he dare to speak like that to me? For all the times I tried to be honest with him besides this one, did he think himself high and mighty enough to fixate himself on that single instance of untruthfulness?
However, I was not often one to speak without careful thought. I contemplated where to start. Did he want my birth story? Did he want to know why I learned about the sort of magic I possessed? Did he only want to know about Algor?
Usually, his emotions read on his face like words against an advertisement, but today they were hidden away somewhere cryptic as if they were in a foreign language. I did not know he could be so cold to me.
Now that Algor revealed the true color of my eyes, I thought as they likely turned cerulean, I unfortunately could not hide anything. It was as obvious of a giveaway as a racing heartbeat or a motion of the pupils what I felt when I said it.
Leo must have seen the change in my expression when he spoke again to me, this time gingerly.
"If you don't want to start with the big stuff, could you explain what happened to your eyes?"
In contrast with mine which were revealing but colorful, his gray irises were beautiful. Some things could be gorgeous in only their detailing and form regardless of how many tints they had. They shone with a surprising vividness I did not know such a dull shade could achieve, and I wanted to pry into them for the sake of my own selfish desires.
"Sinclair?" he asked me as I got lost in my thoughts.
I nodded. There was no use in avoiding a simple explanation and hiding something so evident.
"They've… always been like this. I covered them in that brown facade when I started interacting more with people and fairies," I told him, "because I did not want my inner thoughts to be the cause of scrutiny. I thought I deserved the same privacy as any other person, despite being capable of manipulating emotions."
"See, that wasn't hard." He smiled at me, but it felt more derisive than usual.
I laid back on the flowers supporting me. They formed something akin to a bench as I shrugged.
"What else do you want to know?"
He raised an eyebrow at me. "I think you know what."
"Algor?" I asked, and some deep anger rose to my surface like a convection current.
He affirmed with a nod. "Explain."
*Oh, where to begin?*
***
I met Algor probably over a thousand years ago in passing. I wasn't sure exactly when. If most people could not distinguish days or hours from each other, then I could hardly tell years apart. They blended together like the monotonous colors of the Moon Castle with its spectrum of blacks and deep purples.
Anyway, this time frame made sense. I was a cupid who travelled between kingdoms, playing matchmaker with people as I wished. In hindsight, it was quite manipulative of me: I melded relationships and love stories as I wanted them to be—not how the people involved wanted them to play out. The perfect novelist, I created triangles and star-crossed lovers. I let soulmates find each other and convinced sworn enemies to sleep together. It was enjoyable for me at the time like a trusty old shoe of a role.
But then, I got greedy. What point was there in all the fun—I stomped like a child—if I could not participate in it myself? So I sought to fall in love, to stab myself with the arrows I used for centuries to pierce people's hearts. Behind all my diplomatic diction, I was someone who wasn't satisfied with what I had, who always wanted to reach for more than I deserved for all the trouble I caused others.
In the middle of this quest, I decided I didn't want to be a cupid for others anymore, at least until I got my own hermit life sorted out, so I asked the king at that time—Inei's grandfather—if I could take on another role. He agreed to it, relieved me from my duties, and swore me in as a desperately needed messenger who made life more convenient for multiple kingdoms. A complete reversal. I finally got to do something that wouldn't be frowned upon while handling my internal issues.
***
"So what does this all have to do with Algor? This sounds like a bunch of rambling to me," Leo complained as I relayed to him the background of my story. "Not like I mind, but you sound like someone's grandparent."
"I'm getting to the point here shortly," I said with a huff to calm down his impatience.
***
I knew my desire to seek a lover was risky at best and destructive at worst. There was already a taboo against humans dating fairies, as had happened in some of the neighboring kingdoms when semi-magical babies were born.
Additionally, why would they want to date a fairy who was neither fully male nor female as they knew the genders to be? Never mind the existence of the color gray—it was too risky for them politically to do so, lest they were attacked by their peers and harmed by their governments. I understood this completely—if begrudgingly; even supposedly tolerant kings snarled at me and asked what I really was.
For their information, I was just a person with wings and magic (immortality being a result of an abundance of the latter), not some confused monstrosity of nature as some liked to treat me.
It was during this period of self-doubt that I was reintroduced to Algor. Perhaps it was around eighty years ago. I told him my laments—how I didn't want to become some recluse who lived in the forest away from everyone. I wanted to form friendships. I wanted to find people with whom I could spend time. I wanted to experience life from a different perspective, not just through the rosy lens and pile of dice I was gifted from birth.
However, when I stopped setting my sights on humans and looked right next to me, I found someone who I thought understood me well. He was also there to comfort me, never getting particularly annoyed. We liked the same kinds of things—thought the same ways about other people for the most part.
I assumed it was a perfect match, really.
Even after watching thousands of couples get together, I thought the best kind of partnership was one composed of people who were almost identical. Most preferred consonance over dissonance, after all, so I assumed this was entirely true in relationships, too.
Though, I was foolish when I said I loved him one night. He did not respond the first time I told him, so I repeated it to him every night for a week until he finally listened to my heart. One thing led to another, and I found myself nude and lying on his bare chest. Sparing the details of those encounters was preferable.