Act XII. Nirvana.
Chapter I. Yin
It was a couple days later. Obsidian has gone away, leaving Charice and Michael alone with Willow by their side.
Well, not yet. She was still distant, but there was no need to rush now.
Charice sighed loudly, looking at a blank piece of parchment. The beginning of some new law he wanted to make for businesses.
"..."
He crumpled the paper in his hands.
"Is something the matter, Charice?"
"…Yeah."
Charice whispered softly, eyes glazed over as his feet swayed.
They were in his office, Michael standing by his side as Charice worked. It was quiet, except for the soft echo of red and blue liquid falling into the shrines.
'I feel so… Tired, maybe?'
He couldn't name the thing he felt. An exhausted muscle, an itch never meant to be scratched or had at all.
"I'm sick Michael, I think."
Michael blinked with a concerned shift of his body.
"Does it have to do with Willow? That isn't your fault-"
"No… It doesn't have to do with what you told me about her. This is… Different."
He ran a hand through his blonde hair.
"I've… Made a world? I guess, you could say that, with the August Maximar Republic, all the laws, the Constitution… I met Gods!" He shook his head with disbelief and a small smirk.
"I just… I don't really care for any of it, do I?"
A tear fell from his eyes, gently rolling down his cheek before falling into the paper.
There was only one. It was warm, wet, swollen like the lump forming in his chest. His heart wasn't any louder, his breath wasn't faster, Charice felt no need to sob or squirm.
"I became… What?"
He looked at Michael, who silently looked back.
"…You became a lot." Michael praised, "You did create a country, met with a foreign delegation, earned the approval of divinity-"
"And none of it matters." Charice cut him off, his lower lip quietly quivering, just like his voice.
"I don't… Mind doing all this I guess." Charice raised his hands a little, only to let them fall with a thump against the wooden table.
The shrines to Order and Chaos to his left and right paused as his hands hit the table, only to resume their flow.
"But I never wanted it, I… I want to be a boyfriend, you know? All this fricking stuff stacked on top, I just want to cuddle, to prove that…"
Charice trailed off as his chest quivered, what was he trying to prove? What was the end goal here?
'When will I be done?'
Will he die alone, whispering the name of a man who abandoned him? Would the Gods string him up like a meat socket in the name of some plan he never gave a fuck about?
"I know the feeling." Michael nodded with a subtle sigh.
Charice's head swelled and gut flared, this is bullshit. It makes no sense.
"You know what I need?" Charice snapped, feeling a flicker of pity for Michael, who had to help him work through this outburst.
"I need a man. I need my man. I want… I want him. Here. Not doing anything, not taking anything from me, not to share my burden or to carry me like a princess."
Charice gulped, remembering Michael carrying him, his lovely words and terrible actions. Anger surged.
"I don't want that fu- f-fricking stuff! I don't want anyone to hurt me anymore! I don't want to be Jesus or whatever prophet, maiming himself in the name of other people! I want to smell him, hold him, feel him, cradle him and let myself finally melt."
Charice remembered the cryptic words of Gods who heard every question, every plea, every whimpered word. They answered him, but what point is there in an answer Charice was never meant to understand?
"I'm sick of bed and all this twisted stuff. Of everything being huge and comfortable, and so uselessly empty! A whole world, an entire city that exists just because I'm attached to it! So much work to preserve this one last thing I have left of my love…"
Charice's shoulders slumped.
"But I don't love any of it. I love Max… I like you, and the Paragons, Leo and Paul are sweet souls and all but…"
He crossed his hands on the table, lying his head down on his soft forearms.
"The only person I ever thought to worship isn't here… I don't want to wait anymore. I've changed so much Michael! So so much, I don't even know if Max will love me, if I'll even see him."
Charice knew exactly what might happen. It scared him deeply, his thighs pressed together as his head nuzzled into his arms, ribs straining against his beating heart.
"He is the only person to never hurt me, to… Be me, in a weird fricking way, and then he's gone. And some petty part of me wishes I was gone too."
"Consort." Michael spoke immediately, "Do not say such things. I'm sure Maximus, whatever kind of person he is, would want you to be happy. With or without him."
Michael sighed, "And…" He quietly nodded to himself, reassuring his anxious heart, "You're talking about yourself as a tool, not a grieving man."
"I see you as more than a title, you should look at yourself the same."
Charice's eyes watered with wide pupils and pale skin, and he quickly wiped the brimming tears away.
With a stunned gulp, Charice sank into the depth of his inner machinations as Michael pondered how to cheer the Consort up, how to reassure him to keep going. Anything to help Charice absorb his advice
The second he opened his mouth, Charice's eyes swelled pink.
"No." His voice cracked, "You don't get it, or… Y-You might do, but I need… Space. I need… To be for a bit."
Charice blinked, a second tear coming down his cheek, "...Maybe I'm just nostalgic… But I hope that's not true."
There was nothing left to say as he rested his head against his arms, which were on the table.
"Do you really think Max will love me?" Charice's voice came, muffled against his arm as his eyes hid beneath his hair.
"…I don't remember Maximus or what he was like but… I've seen you, and there is plenty to love."
Charice chuckled, in disbelief, his eyes opened and visible as he pushed his golden locks behind his ears.
"Geez, take me out to dinner first you homewrecker…"
He took a deep breath curling his toes against the cold marble, feeling the crisp air nibble his skin, and with a final rub of his fingers against his silky sleeves, he gulped.
"I'm…"
"Don't be sorry. I know this kind of pain. I just…" Michael looked away, "I just wish there was more I could do to help you get through it."
Charice smiled, a bittersweet curl of his lips.
And as he closed his eyes, head resting on the desk, the day passed.