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After enduring one of the hardest nights of his life, Zach woke up on a surprisingly soft surface.
Last thing he remembered, he had fallen asleep on that stupid hill after crying his eyes off, to the sound of the festivities of Cyoria. He did not bother to teleport himself to his estate, let alone to his bed, not feeling up to dealing with Tasen without totalu control over his emotions. If somebody had attacked him… well, they would have faced a nasty surprise. He was not an archmage for nothing, and after the latest scare with Red Robe, he had developed a waking-up switch if someone approached. With the help of Zorian, he even could turn it off and on.
Zorian…
Shaking his head, Zack sat on the bed. Now was not the time to think about it — he had thought about it last night, anyway. He was in a strange place — someone had bypassed his security, who knew how, and he could not let himself be killed after getting out of the time loop. After his friend sacrificed himself for him.
The room was familiar, but then again, almost everywhere was. There were no windows, and the door was closed, covered with a ward that, while powerful, was no match against Zach. The only source of light came from the ceiling, where a hideous lamp hung, reminiscent of the ones of his mansion. This was clearly an old home.
However, all of those were merely details (well… maybe not the door), at least when compared to the other bed in the room. Or, better said, to the person sleeping on it. Another prisoner? A lazy guard? Either answer was good news to him. Despite not triggering his sleeping alarms, the people who had kidnapped Zach did not seem very good at this.
With trembling legs — shit, the aftereffects of the fight still linger —, Zach approached the sleeping person. Man. Black hair, stupid sleeping face…
No. It can’t be…
But it was. This was clearly Zorian, very much breathing and alive. With stupidly strong mental defenses even when asleep, which made it imposible to check, but at the same time confirmed, whether it was him.
Zach’s heart skipped a beat, and his eyes started stinging, but no. The previous day could have been Zorian’s actions, but… this could also be a mind rape. (He missed the days when this wasn’t a problem for him.) Both experiences were realistic enough that there was no way to tell for sure.
…Except he knew. He knew, because Zorian was too much of a selfish asshole to really sacrifice his life for anyone, but he was cunning enough to erase everyone’s memories of the time loop and competent enough to invade Zach’s mind for more than a day. To trick even the angels with a scheme that shouldn’t work but somehow always did.
Before he thought about it, Zach was already jumping.
Falling against Zorian’s stomach was really satisfying, and so was the pained wheeze he let out. Zach could see why Kirielle liked to do this, and he made a mental note to enlist her in his future revenge — there was no way his best friend was getting out unscathed of messing his mind without his permission.
“Whyyyyyyyy?” Zorian said. Zach’s face was buried in the blankets, but he could perfectly imagine his scorned expression. “Am I cursed to forever wake up like this?”
“I will make sure that you are, asshole,” Zach retorted, voice muffled. He waved a fist blindly, but sadly, it didn’t meet flesh. Zorian patted his back in response, but Zach was too busy focusing on how his stomach shifted under him with every exhale, every inhale. “You deserve it.”
“Huh? I know I invaded your mind, but you do realize I have saved your life, right?”
Zach would have laughed at his offended tone of voice if he weren’t too busy feeling - elation - disbelief - rage - grief - everything. His chest was going to explode and all their efforts were going to be for nothing.
Suddenly, Zach found himself curled into a tight ball, knees digging into Zorian’s side.
“You’re an asshole, you know that, right?” he gritted out. He was clenching his hands, digging his nails into his palms despite the blanket in between.
“Zach…” That was the tone Zorian saved for when Kirielle cried. It only made Zach dig his knees deeper. “Are you crying?”
He willed his shoulders to stay still. His body was uncooperative. “Of course I’m crying! Do you - do you even know what I felt when I thought you died?”
There was a pause. If Zorian was going to be a know-it-all and begin with actually and end up explaining how immersive mind magic was, or remind him he was an empath, Zach was going to - he was going to -
He wasn’t sure what he would do, but it would involve maiming. And incoherent screaming.
But, instead, Zorian sighed, and the hand laying on Zach’s back started trailing up… down… up… down… much more carefully than the pointed barbs and friendly ribbing usually exchanged between them. Kirielle had been right: the man really was a softie, deep inside.
The gesture wasn’t enough to calm Zach down, but, at least, it kept the situation from escalating until Zach regained control of himself and stopped crying. He still didn’t raise his head from the blankets, but eventually, he managed to win against his embarrassment and met Zorian’s eyes.
And heavens, he really looked horrible. His face was pale and covered with bruises, his eyes were bloodshot and half-lidded with exhaustion, and his lips were purple. Zach guessed that these were probably the symptoms of maintaining an illusion for so much time… and then not getting enough sleep to remedy it.
“You look horrible,” Zorian said, echoing his thoughts. Zach would suspect he had read his thoughts, except the man had always kept his promise about not doing it (...with one major exception, of course) and he didn’t look like he had the energy to do any sort of magic. He looked like he was about to pass out.
In an act of mercy, Zach rolled away from him, until his back pressed against the wall and he was on top of Zorian’s arm, who hadn’t deigned to move. “That’s because you haven’t looked at yourself in a mirror recently. Shift a little, won’t you?”
Zorian closed his eyes. “Make me,” he said, because he knew Zach didn’t have the strength for it. Contrary to his words, he rolled over a second later, showing Zach his back, his bare neck. “Are we finished?” he mumbles, halfway asleep already.
“No.” Zach also rolled over, so that their backs were touching. The familiar, warm contact made the tension he had been carrying on his shoulders dissolve like sugar on water. “But I’ll be magnanimous: we can discuss everything later.”
Of course, Zorian had already fallen asleep, so his words had gone unheard. Zach huffed a laugh. Asshole.
His eyelids were weighing down too, though, so he imitated the example of his (alive, miraculously alive, the damn madman, they were both alive) best friend, and closed them. With his last act of consciousness, he pulled the blanket over both of them, and let himself drift towards the world of dreams.