Page 35 of The Haunting of William Thorn

According to William’s phone, it was late afternoon when they both woke up.

And to his pleasant surprise, he’d not sleepwalked again.

He had woken up safe in the iron embrace of Edward, who it seemed had hardly moved a muscle.

His strong arm had been draped across William’s side, his chest pressed into his spine that when they peeled apart, William could still feel the other man imprinted on his skin.

That feeling didn’t dissipate in the hours that followed. All that changed was the bud of guilt that William had for sleeping with another man, which blossomed into a fully formed rose with sharp thorns that tore at him from the inside out.

“How is it?”

William looked up from his bowl, hyperaware that he was pushing his spoon around the soup. “It’s lukewarm soup. What do you expect me to say?”

Edward had finished his bowl, even going so far as to drag his tongue around the ceramic to lap up the final bits of carrot and corridor he’d chosen to have for dinner. “Good point, but you should still eat it.”

“I’m not really that hungry,” William replied, watching a glob of thick liquid slop from his spoon, back into the bowl.

Between what was happening in his life, what had happened, and the possibility that was to follow, his appetite was practically non-existent. However, his need for wine was stronger than ever.

“Please, just try and eat something.” Edward had an uncanny way of entirely focusing on William.

It made him feel like he was the only person in the world.

When he settled his eyes on something, it was with complete attention and intense emotion to match.

And right then, he drank in William with eyes of pure concern. “At the very least finish the bread.”

The slices were from the loaf he’d brought before he’d arrived at Hanbury. Edward had lathered the two end pieces, as per William’s request, because the end pieces of a loaf were always the best, with soft butter and sprinkled with salt.

Not wanting to continue his grumpy child facade, William picked up a slice, scooped it into the bowl of soup, and shovelled it into his mouth. Edward instantly relaxed, which only further confirmed his comfort balanced on how William felt.

That only made William’s guilt sting harder.

Neither man shared another word until William was almost done.

It was as if Edward wanted to ensure he ate, or perhaps his table manners were just so impressive that he’d not move until everyone at the table was finished.

Edward only stood from his chair when a small pool of now-cold soup remained in William’s bowl.

“I was thinking we could go for a walk and get some fresh air. Have a small break from the manor.”

William had also been thinking. A lot. “It’s not looking very nice out.”

“Is that a no, then?” Edward replied, disappointed almost.

“You’re welcome to if you want.” William couldn’t hide from the unspoken topic anymore. “Listen, I really appreciate everything you are doing for me, Edward. I do.”

“But.”

William narrowed his eyes. “ But are we going to keep pretending nothing has happened, or are we going to talk about it?”

“If you are ready, then we can.” Edward straightened, every bone in his spine practically cracking one after the other. “I just don’t see the point in dwelling on what has been, and instead, focusing on what will be. Does that answer your question?”

William shook his head, clutching the side of his chair to stop him from doing something he regretted. What that was, he wasn’t sure. He just didn’t seem to trust himself at the moment. His mind, his emotions… his heart.

“Something is weighing heavy on your mind,” Edward said. “Talk to me.”

“What isn’t on my mind!” William barked through a laugh. “How long do you have?”

“Try me.”

William took a deep breath in, wondering where to start. What came out of his treacherous mouth surprised even him. “I’ve been thinking about what happened, and I just can’t help but think you planned for this.”

“Not at all. You’ve been an interesting surprise.”

“Not me, stop bringing it back to me. You know what I’m talking about. The Ouija board, your stories about your great-uncle Teddy. It seems like this is going down the exact path you wanted from the beginning.”

“All I have wanted was answers, Will. I told you that from the start.”

And yet something is missing.

William ripped his hands from the chair and slapped them on the table. The bowl shuddered, the spoon within clattering against the ceramic. Edward hardly flinched, but his eyes did widen.

Good , William, thought. Let him see why he should leave.

“Why? Why do you care so much for the past?”

William had spent the last year running from it, and here Edward was, running towards a past that didn’t even belong to him.

Edward’s unwavering gaze fixed on William. “Because Teddy deserves this. Just because history forgot him doesn’t mean his story isn’t important. I’m not willing to just let Teddy become a distant, almost forgotten, memory”

“Oh. How valiant.” William turned away from the conversation. Suddenly, the idea of fresh air was welcoming. Perhaps the cold afternoon breeze would work Edward from his skin, mind, and soul. “Get out of the past, Edward. You’ll only drown in it. Trust me, I know.”

William got to the kitchen door before Edward called after him. What stopped him in his tracks wasn’t his words but the tone in which he used. It was the first time Edward spoke with an emotion differing from care and kindness.

“What are you running from?”

“Right now? You.”

“That wasn’t the question, and you know it.

What are you running from in life, William Thorn?

” The use of his full name was somewhat jarring, considering he was getting used to hearing Will come out of Edward’s mouth.

“What drives someone so young to contemplate moving into a forgotten place in such a secluded area? What makes someone so cold, even when they are offered warmth? Just when I thought we were getting somewhere with each other, you turn around and throw it back in my face.”

“It’s none of your business,” William snapped, recognising that this time, in the face of a frightening conversation, he didn’t freeze. He didn’t feel the urge to run either. He wanted to fight. To split the wound in his heart and bleed out all the pain until he was empty of it.

Breathless, he spun back and faced Edward. Neither man had done much in the ways of physical movement, and yet they were both inhaling deeply, panting as if they’d climbed a mountain. When the truth was, they both faced one, contemplating who would climb it and throw themselves off.

“No, William. You’re wrong. Whatever happened to you, whatever has scarred you so deeply, it is my business. Use me. Off-load on me. Unleash all that darkness inside of you simply because I won’t judge you. Do it because I care.”

I care.

In that moment William hated Edward. He hated him for being him, for offering him the chance to face a past that frightened him more than any ghost and haunting. “I don’t need someone to save me. If you didn’t know, I’ve managed pretty well on my own before you came along.”

“Did you?”

William’s body froze to the spot. There was something in the way Edward asked his question, the lift in his tone at the end, that suggested Edward knew more than he was letting on.

“How. Dare. You.” The feeling rushed out of William’s legs. “I don’t need anyone. Maybe you’ve got some weird knight in shining armour complex, but I’m not going to be the one to feed into your kink, okay?”

“You wound me.” Edward’s eyes widened, his hand finding the back of his neck and rubbing.

“Are you saying that to convince me or convince yourself? Because, from where I’m standing, I think it’s healthy to rely on another person for help.

It’s okay if you do need saving; that doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

William gripped the door frame a moment before his knees completely buckled. “I can’t do this–”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both,” William said breathlessly.

Something horrid and beastly cracked within his chest. All fangs and sharp claws. It overcame William, dragging him down to the floor, not a muscle free of tremors.

Slowly, he slipped to the floor, his body giving up. He bowed his head, not noticing Edward close the space between them until his body was bathed in the other man’s shadow.

Tears left scars down his cheeks. William didn’t bother to lift a hand to wipe them away. He just let the river flow, hoping that if he did it wouldn’t continue to drown him.

“Do you know, across all religions and beliefs, the strongest tie that binds them is the concept of sharing pain? Whether it is in prayer, in manifestation or spell work. The idea of handing over your suffering to a greater power is shared. Help me understand you. Because maybe, just maybe, by doing so you can understand that with me, you can be safe. Even if only for the next few days. Or, for as long as you can cope with me.”

William cocked his head up, finding enough confidence to fix his eyes back on Edward. It would’ve been easier to lie – to come up with one of a hundred excuses as he had before, to explain why he was so cold, so closed off. But before he could grasp one, he found the painful truth ooze out of him.

It was more the thunderous spilling of a cracked dam than the gentle slip of a lazy river.

“Archie died because of me,” William said, hating how accurate those words were. “I killed him.”

“That’s not true,” Edward laid gentle fingers beneath William’s jaw, stopping him from looking away. “Lying isn’t going to make you feel better.

“Yes. It is true. Archie died because I sent him out in the rain. My reaction and decisions put him on that bike and made him cycle out into the road. It was because of me that the car hit him. And I live with the weight of that realisation every second of every bastard day.”