Will you listen to my story?

It'll just be a minute

How can I explain?

"Tancred, wait up!" Tancred stopped short in his tracks, not turning around to see the face of who called him. There was no need, for there was no mistaking that voice. Over the sound of the ever-present winds, he heard the hurried steps of someone who, until quite recently, he had considered a friend. The boiling blonde balled his fists as Dagbert Endless came to a halt beside him.

Bending over and panting heavily, Dagbert spluttered, "Tancred, please. I can explain."

"There's nothing to explain," Tancred snapped bitterly, not daring to look the younger boy in the eye. "Absolutely nothing."

Whatever happened here?

I never meant to hurt you

How could I cause you so much pain?

Dagbert was positive that he had never felt such an overwhelming sense of guilt in his life. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea, but now that he was here-now that he could see what he actually did- he wanted to take it all back. "I-I never meant to… I mean, I meant to, but I didn't think that… I never wanted you to get so hurt."

"But I did, didn't I?"

Dagbert sucked in his bottom lip and held it captive behind his teeth. "Sorry."

Tancred's fists shook as heat rose to his face, the already violent winds increasing in speed. "Sorry? Sorry? Well, sorry, buddy, but sorry isn't going to cut it. You and your big mouth cost me my best friend!"

"But-" Tancred lashed out and struck the younger boy, sending him flying backward into the wind. Dagbert landed on his butt a few yards away with a thud. A prickle of shame speckled in Tancred's gut and, against his better judgment, strode over to help the boy.

Looking up from his position on the ground with pain in his eyes, he swallowed thickly as the blonde approached, expecting to be struck again. Not that he would blame him, of course. There was no competition- no retaliation to be offered. If beating him into dust was what Tancred needed in order to release his frustration, then Dagbert would take every blow. Anything for the boy he had previously thought he had killed.

Contrary to expectation, Tancred simply extended a hand, staring down at him with a cold expression. Grasping it tentatively, he was hoisted to his feet, swaying slightly. The blonde looked him up and down, lips pursed, and shook his head.

"You okay?"

Dagbert stared at him, awestruck. "Yeah…"

"Good." With that, he turned away, wind flapping powerfully behind him as he left the former drowner in the dust. Never before had he felt so cold.

When I say I'm sorry

Will you believe me?

Listen to my story

Say you won't leave me

The next day, Tancred wasn't there, leaving Dagbert to deal with the aftermath. The glances. The snickers. The rumors.

Rumors he had started. Rumors he would give anything to take back.

It had started out as a joke, really. Just a group of friends hanging out, making jokes about each other. For instance, the running joke between Charlie and Olivia, how they were 'destined' to be together. Over the years, this had only grown to be more and more the case, and they continued to laugh about it. Emma and Tancred, however, hadn't been so fortunate, which was the core of the problem. Dagbert had overstepped his boundaries.

Apparently, it was offensive to imply that someone would rather sleep with someone of the same sex than their recently broken off female partner. Especially when that person of the same sex happened to be his best friend. The explosion that occurred afterward send multiple people flying throughout the Kings Room, as well as a certain chase sequence that would end with Dagbert sporting a nice shiner.

After the day ended and gave way to the weekend, he vowed to remain with a cool head as he conducted his search for the boisterous blonde. This was going to end, and it was going to end now.

If I told you

I've been cleaning my soul

And if I promised you

I've regained control

Would you open the doors

And let me in?

Love me for who I am

And not for who I've been?

Tancred wasn't difficult to find, unsurprisingly, for he proved to be rather predictable. Yes, he found him at his house, as expected, creating small tornadoes in his bedroom. After greeting his equally eccentric father at the door, Dagbert braved his way up the stairs, using his entire body to burst through the door into his room. What he saw was a wreck. A complete wreck. And that was just about the blonde.

Words were spoken; he knew that much. Some screaming, some pleading, some confessions. Oh, the confessions were the sweetest, and the flavor rested on his tongue in the most excitable way possible. Explanations of affections, ice behind eyelids melting, and solid hearts falling to pieces, only to be placed back together again. Hands skimmed over soft skin, lips pressed sinfully together as contrasting hair was threaded through by opposite hands.

While unexpected, the bliss was indescribable. His jokes hadn't been wrong, it was his placement. Tancred did prefer to sleep with those of the same sex, only it wasn't Lysander he had his eye on.

It was his own doom. And Dagbert couldn't think of an apology more delicious than the one they shared that night.