In the Beat of a Wing {boyxboy}

Chapter Twenty-Seven

~Wednesday 20th March 2013~

Malcolm's office felt awfully quiet, near empty. He had sensed that for days, ever since he had begun to distance himself from Eden. Usually, they would see each other at least once a day, even if it was only a facetime call. Ever since Slate had informed Malcolm of Hayden's suspicions, the man had ensured he kept his contact with his lover to a minimum.

Yes, it may have been cruel to withhold the information from Eden but Malcolm wasn't sure the boy had even noticed his distance. Eden had been getting pretty busy with things at the diner, and had been spending a lot of time with Audrey over at Leon's. He had apologised to Malcolm when he had to blow off a dinner they were going to one Monday night, which made the man feel infinitely worse. He didn't like keeping things from Eden.

He didn't particularly enjoy lying in general, it left a bad taste in his mouth, but lying to Eden was the worst. He feared that if the boy found out from someone else about Malcolm's fabrications that he wouldn't understand, that he would be angry with the man. If he wasn't willing to tell him, all he could do was hope he didn't find out.

Malcolm's eyes fixed on the bottom drawer in his filing cabinet, a determined scowl on his face telling him not to give in to the urges clawing at the back of his mind. The other half of him was awake, wide awake, Malcolm could feel it pacing, scratching at the walls of the locked box that confined it, screaming against the gag over its mouth.

Malcolm had found visualising physical restraints on the other half of him helped keep it in line. If Malcolm wanted it quiet, a rag would appear tightly wrapped around its head. If Malcolm wanted it still, chains would snake around its body, connected to rivets in the floor of his mind. If Malcolm wanted it dead... well, visualising didn't quite work out for that.

Malcolm had despised the other side of himself for a long time, mostly for what it had done to his little brother. Due to Arian's astrakinesis, he had always been able to sense Malcolm's other half when they were younger, since the man hadn't prioritised control over it. Malcolm's other half had tormented Arian ruthlessly, purely for the fun of it. It was sickening.

Arian had gone years without a good night's sleep, plagued by terrible nightmares of 'the man with the white eyes'. Apparently, even when Malcolm physically was a child, his other half was always an older man. Malcolm, although he wouldn't admit it, was thankful for that aspect. He was sure if his brother's tormenter had been him not only in mind but in body, a relationship between them couldn't have held.

Arian never held it against Malcolm, especially after their parents explained the origin of the boy's nightmares. Malcolm had always carried that guilt with him though, having wondered if he was the cause for his brother's socialising issues. Arian wasn't some introverted recluse who had an anxiety attack at the thought of walking to his mailbox, however, he did have trouble with getting in relationships, trouble with self-confidence. Malcolm blamed himself, even if his little brother didn't.

Malcolm let out a heavy sigh, rising from his seat and walking over to the filing cabinet. He sat down in front of it first, his legs crossed in front of him, whilst he contemplated summoning his other half. As dangerous as he was aware the entity was, Malcolm couldn't help being drawn to it. It had become some sort of coping mechanism for him, one that he relied on more than he would care to admit.

Malcolm bit down on his bottom lip, loosening his tie around his neck, feeling awfully constricted. It was in his head, no doubt caused by his other half, who still had a few tricks up his sleeve despite the little control he was allowed to play with. He had been noticing it more and more recently, silently debating whether to mention it to Eden or not. You were supposed to tell your partner everything, they were supposed to know the ins and outs of your soul-