Hadyn Novak (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
maskofhearts) wrote2017-06-21 08:29 pm
maskofhearts) wrote2017-06-21 08:29 pm
This is my December
Hadyn had left the deck to meet with several sellers for various items the theatre had needed for their new productions. It was a routine sort of trip, and not one that had been expected to be overly eventful. After all, The Hearts did not engage in the sort of business that the other Suits seemed to be regularly embroiled in. Drew had let him go with just a promise to see him in a few days, and a promise to try to eat more than a salad while he was gone.
And in truth, Hadyn had expected nothing out of the ordinary with his trip, either. He had even concluded much of his business early, and taken the time to ride to the South of France to look out over the landscape of the French country side. He also found himself standing outside his mother's home, and her prison. She had let him in, and her servants had brought him tea. And for a moment, a brief moment, a weight in Hadyn's chest lifted as his mother congratulated him on his Rank. For that one brief moment in time, she seemed proud of something he had done.
Seemed.
Like the flash of a bulb, her words ripped that brief happiness from him. They aimed at his heart, they cut wounds that no eyes would ever see as she stood and leaned across the table. "You were nothing but a mistake, a tool to be used! I should have killed you the day you left my womb, but I did not. Even a mistake should have had its uses, to support his brother. To be a sacrifice, bleed for a King. You had one job! One purpose! And such a fool was I to ever believe you have potential to fulfill it."
A mistake. Mistake.
From the moment he'd learned that his father was not the man he thought, to this moment now he had always felt that weight on his shoulders. Georgios Kattalakis had never cared to save Hadyn from his prison of ignorance, his mother (as she told him, explicitly) used his need for affection to manipulate him, Dwayne Novak...and used his fist. He was a burden to those around him, he knew. He could often see the weariness in Drew's eyes, the worry as he regarded Hadyn from day to day. Others still came around less, few called in to see that he was fine...but rarely did it last for long. His own brother, Jordan...
Jordan's nightmares haunted him, Hadyn knew as well as any. He could see his brother pulling away from him, the anger and disgust in his features. It wasn't fist that Jordan used any longer to take his anger out on his brother, it was his silence. As if Hadyn's troubles were too much, too dramatic and tiresome for Jordan to deal with any longer. As though, as though he wanted him to just...go away.
So he had, hadn't he? He'd pulled back, resigned himself to fake smiles and distant stares. His heart ached, but he did not wish to burden Jordan with his misery if Jordan did not wish to see it. He could survive without that reassurance, he had thought.
And Zoe? Zoe had her own happiness now, with smiles and joy that came from a distant mountain of a man. Victor Fox had never struck Hadyn as capable of love, but then he witnessed something he doubted few others had- he watched Victor as he watched Zoe. Eyes soft, and lips hinting of a smile as his gaze never faltered. She had become the center of his universe, and Zoe had grown and flourished in that love. His strength became her's, and he gave it willingly.
And it pained him to see. Because he was incapable to capturing that fleeting happiness. His relationships of late were at arms length, hurt and fear driving deep wedges between him and his partners. And why? Because his heart had belonged to another man, a man who did not need him. Did not, perhaps, want him. Elisha had driven a knife deep, deeper than any other ever had. He'd uttered three words, and then ripped them out of his grasp as easily as Laureline's acidic words ripped his heart apart.
'I love you', he had said. He'd said it so easily, so casually. 'I love you'. And then he'd ended it, driving the knife to the hilt and pushing Hadyn away. Proving the one that Hadyn always felt but never spoke to others- he was unlovable. Unwanted. Unneeded. Tarnished and broken. A mistake that should never have been. He was the source of so much misery in others, demanding attentions that were not his to demand. They wouldn't need to be burdened with his misery if he...would simply disappear.
In retrospect, he hardly remembered having left his Mother's house. He barely registered the speed in which is drove his bike, pushing faster and recklessly forward as words kept replaying in his head: Mistake, unwanted, unloved, tarnished and broken. Mistake. He was a mistake. A burden.
A car's horn blaring at him brought him back in time to jerk his bike out of the way of on coming traffic, hitting the dirt on the side of the road and skidding out. His bike flipped, flinging the thin rider off and down the embankment before it too went flying and crashing down, landing on top of his legs after both man and bike bounced and tumbled down to the shore of a frozen lake. He could feel the cold of the ground seeping in past his riding leathers as he laid there, staring out through his shattered visor as people rushed down the embankment toward him.
This, he thought as his eyes dipped shut, was probably a better way to die.
And in truth, Hadyn had expected nothing out of the ordinary with his trip, either. He had even concluded much of his business early, and taken the time to ride to the South of France to look out over the landscape of the French country side. He also found himself standing outside his mother's home, and her prison. She had let him in, and her servants had brought him tea. And for a moment, a brief moment, a weight in Hadyn's chest lifted as his mother congratulated him on his Rank. For that one brief moment in time, she seemed proud of something he had done.
Seemed.
Like the flash of a bulb, her words ripped that brief happiness from him. They aimed at his heart, they cut wounds that no eyes would ever see as she stood and leaned across the table. "You were nothing but a mistake, a tool to be used! I should have killed you the day you left my womb, but I did not. Even a mistake should have had its uses, to support his brother. To be a sacrifice, bleed for a King. You had one job! One purpose! And such a fool was I to ever believe you have potential to fulfill it."
A mistake. Mistake.
From the moment he'd learned that his father was not the man he thought, to this moment now he had always felt that weight on his shoulders. Georgios Kattalakis had never cared to save Hadyn from his prison of ignorance, his mother (as she told him, explicitly) used his need for affection to manipulate him, Dwayne Novak...and used his fist. He was a burden to those around him, he knew. He could often see the weariness in Drew's eyes, the worry as he regarded Hadyn from day to day. Others still came around less, few called in to see that he was fine...but rarely did it last for long. His own brother, Jordan...
Jordan's nightmares haunted him, Hadyn knew as well as any. He could see his brother pulling away from him, the anger and disgust in his features. It wasn't fist that Jordan used any longer to take his anger out on his brother, it was his silence. As if Hadyn's troubles were too much, too dramatic and tiresome for Jordan to deal with any longer. As though, as though he wanted him to just...go away.
So he had, hadn't he? He'd pulled back, resigned himself to fake smiles and distant stares. His heart ached, but he did not wish to burden Jordan with his misery if Jordan did not wish to see it. He could survive without that reassurance, he had thought.
And Zoe? Zoe had her own happiness now, with smiles and joy that came from a distant mountain of a man. Victor Fox had never struck Hadyn as capable of love, but then he witnessed something he doubted few others had- he watched Victor as he watched Zoe. Eyes soft, and lips hinting of a smile as his gaze never faltered. She had become the center of his universe, and Zoe had grown and flourished in that love. His strength became her's, and he gave it willingly.
And it pained him to see. Because he was incapable to capturing that fleeting happiness. His relationships of late were at arms length, hurt and fear driving deep wedges between him and his partners. And why? Because his heart had belonged to another man, a man who did not need him. Did not, perhaps, want him. Elisha had driven a knife deep, deeper than any other ever had. He'd uttered three words, and then ripped them out of his grasp as easily as Laureline's acidic words ripped his heart apart.
'I love you', he had said. He'd said it so easily, so casually. 'I love you'. And then he'd ended it, driving the knife to the hilt and pushing Hadyn away. Proving the one that Hadyn always felt but never spoke to others- he was unlovable. Unwanted. Unneeded. Tarnished and broken. A mistake that should never have been. He was the source of so much misery in others, demanding attentions that were not his to demand. They wouldn't need to be burdened with his misery if he...would simply disappear.
In retrospect, he hardly remembered having left his Mother's house. He barely registered the speed in which is drove his bike, pushing faster and recklessly forward as words kept replaying in his head: Mistake, unwanted, unloved, tarnished and broken. Mistake. He was a mistake. A burden.
A car's horn blaring at him brought him back in time to jerk his bike out of the way of on coming traffic, hitting the dirt on the side of the road and skidding out. His bike flipped, flinging the thin rider off and down the embankment before it too went flying and crashing down, landing on top of his legs after both man and bike bounced and tumbled down to the shore of a frozen lake. He could feel the cold of the ground seeping in past his riding leathers as he laid there, staring out through his shattered visor as people rushed down the embankment toward him.
This, he thought as his eyes dipped shut, was probably a better way to die.
no subject
"Don't you think I can make that decision?" He asked, trailing his fingers over Hadyn's cheek. "And do you really think you don't deserve to be happy?"
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"Sometimes, I don't think I've earned it," he admitted after a moment, shrugging just a little. "Sometimes I don't believe it is possible, either." But that wasn't the heart of the matter, was it?
"There should...be rules," he decided, lifting his hand to Elisha's face as his heart thundered in his chest. The last time they had done this, there hadn't been rules...not between them, at least. Instead, Elisha had twisted him up in a game of cat and mouse- first playing at things, then jealously declaring a desire for more, then hiding it, then not hiding it, more jealousy, more fighting. When he thought about it? Elisha had been right, they had been doomed to fail. Why? Because their relationship had been ridiculous.
"Rules that we can't break, shouldn't." He said, sighing a little. "No more...trying to manipulate me, that isn't fair." It wasn't, after all, as if Hadyn had been exactly blind to the ways Elisha had twisted him around his fingers, after all. Considering Hadyn had been breed for just that purpose himself.
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Then, too, his PTSD had been...bad the last time he and Hadyn had been dating. Debilitatingly bad, at times.
"Okay," he said after a long moment of watching Hadyn. "I'll do my best. I might not always succeed. But," he aded. "On your side - you can't shut me out when this happens." And they shouldn't pretend that Hadyn didn't, he thought.
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"Okay," Hadyn said, with a nod. "I'll try. If...you're patient with me." This was, he thought, a good start. "It...scares me to tell you, you know. And sometimes...I just don't know, I don't know why it is happening. Little things, stupid things...said, or done. And, and it just snaps. Like a boulder just shoved suddenly down the mountain, crashing through every rational thought in my head. And...I can't, I can't..."
Find the words, he thought as he closed his eyes and frowned. The worst thing about depression, he thought, was how it ebbed and flowed like water. One sad thought, and then rush of the tide washed the sand out from under you. And it could stay, or wash back out- it was hard to tell. Harder, he thought, to explain.
"But....I'll try."
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But then, there were just some people in life you were meant to be with.
"We shouldn't stay in here forever," he said, squeezing Hadyn's hand. "If I fall asleep, I don't think your leg is strong enough for you to pick me up just yet."
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"No, but it is nice in here. My leg aches less in here, and there are worse places to nap." Hadyn said with a sigh. However, Elisha was very correct- his leg would not support him hauling the King of Clubs out of the tub. It barely supported him hobbling about with crutches and a walking boot. And so it was with a heavy sort of sigh that Hadyn sat up and unstopped the drain. "If you are staying," which he hoped Elisha was, "you'll have to convince Bond to share his side of the bed. He barely shares with me on my side."