Zafkiel was worried. It had been days since he had seen his little brother. Partly, it was like a vacation.
Kael wasn't frightening because of what he and Zafkiel did together. No, it was the power he had within himself, the feelings that he gave Zafkiel.
The feeling that, with a single look, you were his. And he'd never let you go.
In a way, that was comforting. But overall, it was absolutely terrifying.
Nothing was more frightful than Kael as a child, filled already with spiteful venom. Kael was both toxic and addicting. He could make you feel so damn important, but he always, always could hurt you.
Zafkiel often wondered, though he tried not to, who had hurt Kael. Whoever it was had to have been an expert. Kael was incredibly damaged goods.
In the same thought, Zafkiel can't help but wonder whether some people are simply born like Kael. Everyone always says that monsters are made, but doesn't there need to be something monstrous within a person before anyone hurts them?
"Kael," Zafkiel called softly. He poked his head in their father's study, not expecting to see Kael actually there, reclined before the fireplace.
"Zaffie. Come," Kael quite literally beckoned with his index finger.
Zafkiel complied. As guilty and dirty he often felt, he couldn't deny the lust he felt burning in his heart.
Zafkiel sat near him on a pricey leather ottoman. Near enough that Kael wrapped his hand around Zafkiel's long braid and yanked him to the ground.
"Come means COME," he said.
"Kael, that hurts," but he never got to say much more. He didn't have the courage.
Kael said nothing. He turned back to the fire.
He ran very hot and cold on people, almost to the point of bi-polar disorder. He could love and hate you and love you once more in a single week.
Zafkiel wasn't even sure whether it was something legitimately wrong with Kael or if he simply liked to see people squirm. He went with the latter.
"Slut," Kael said, distractedly.
Zafkiel looked at the ground, welling with shame. He knew Kael was trying to hurt him, but damned if it wasn't working.
He looked at his little brother's beautiful porcelain skin. He had their mother's complexion, ghostly white with little flushed lips.
Zafkiel, while still relatively pale, was nowhere near as white as Kael.
Looking closer, he saw what he first thought were bruises, all over Kael's neck and bare chest.
Swallowing a surprised, 'Kael, what happened?', Zafkiel realized what they really were.
Kael was totally covered with hickeys. Bite marks, love bruises, shades of lipstick only a man would be bold enough to wear.
"Why do you hurt me so much, Kael? I thought you loved me."
"Because, my dear brother."
"Because. You make it so easy."