CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE #2
I had returned inside the House on North Lane, the door to my bedroom to my left, the strange figure lingering at the end of the hall.
I stepped forward, the floorboards beneath my feet shooting upward like wooden stakes waiting to impale me.
Swallowing a scream, I turned to descend the stairs, only for the Devil's face to appear inches from mine, beetles pouring from his mouth.
I staggered backwards, elbows landing on the jagged floorboards with a crack. The walls towered over me, the floor beneath me shaking as though an earthquake had struck. The Devil placed his foot on my chest and pressed down, teeth razor sharp.
This is where you belong. And where you will stay if you try to find your mother.
"Augustus!"
Fingers tugged at my hair, forcing my head up to meet a pair of big brown eyes wide with concern. Nathaniel held me, his warm body trembling against my own.
We were on the staircase where Violet's body had been discovered, my knees against the wood whilst Nathaniel crouched down to hold me, to stop me from falling.
"What happened?" he breathed out.
I didn't answer. Couldn't answer. The Devil was there. The House on North Lane had found me.
I trembled like a leaf, Nathaniel's words muffled as the Devil rattled around in my brain.
"Augustus?"
"Let's go. Let's just go."
I grew distant once I returned home, not replying to Nathaniel's messages or answering his calls. I wish I could say that I didn’t let this drag on for too long, but who was I if not one to ruin something good?
I had happiness in the grasp of my hand, and I was willing to let it crumble and drift off in the wind.
All because of the Devil—a Devil I had failed to shut out.
Guilt weighed heavy on my shoulders, but I convinced myself I was doing the right thing.
For Nathaniel’s sake. He deserved better than the burden I brought him.
He deserved someone who could take him on a date without hallucinating—someone who didn't shut down the second things crumbled all around him. I thought I had made the right decision, but the nightmares returned in Nathaniel’s absence. Sleepless nights, miserable days.
A week had passed before Nathaniel cornered me on campus. I thought I could successfully avoid him since classes were over, but he found me on my way to the library, dark circles under his eyes, his lips cracked and peeling.
“What’s going on?” he asked, the tone of his voice sending an ache through my chest. “You’ve just…ghosted me. Why?”
How could I tell him about the Devil? How could I explain that I was trying to protect him? How could I make him understand that I would only bring him pain, and that it would be easier for the both of us to pretend the other didn't exist?
“Please,” he begged, reaching for my hand, “just tell me what it is so I can fix it.”
“You…can't,” I said.
His eyebrows furrowed. "I don't understand…"
“I just…” I fought for words. “...please, just leave me.”
“No.” Nathaniel said. Final. He gripped my hand tighter. “Talk to me, Augustus.”
I closed my eyes, fighting back the tears threatening to fall.
“We were good,” Nathaniel went on, urgency drenched in his tone. He wanted this to work. Badly. “We were good, right? I wasn’t imagining it?”
I shook my head.
“Then what happened?”
The Devil happened. I happened.
“Augustus? Please…”
“I don’t want to hurt you…” I whispered.
“You’re hurting me every second of every day,” Nathaniel whispered back. “It hurts so fucking bad. But I want you to hurt me. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me you hate me, if only so that you will look at me.”
I raised my eyes to look at him, and every single one of my defences crumbled. There was nowhere I wanted to be other than his arms. I'd made a mistake. “I’m sorry,” I breathed out, throwing my arms around him, face buried in his chest. “I’m sorry. I got scared and…”
Nathaniel’s own arms snaked around my waist, holding me close as he whispered soothing words into my ear. "It's okay, Augustus. It's okay. I'm here. I'm never leaving you."
I am here too, little monster. And I am never leaving you.
***
The God's Soldiers Church had yet to respond. My mission to find my mother was on hold, and although the Devil had barricaded himself in a dark cell within my mind in rebellion, my own conscience demanded I save her.
There wasn't a lot to go on, though. My research resulted in one single article from when my mother first went missing, the Rose Chapel Police Force pleading with the public for any information. No one knew where she was. And no one cared enough to keep looking.
“Why are you searching for mum?”
Auden stood behind me, eyes glued to my computer screen as he adjusted his glasses, lips pursed in displeasure. I hadn't heard him come in, his bare feet silent against the carpeted floor.
"Auddie, I thought you were asleep," I said, "are you okay?"
"Why are you searching for mum?" he repeated.
"I…was just curious."
“About what?"
“What the search was like…” I half-lied, “...you know, when she first went missing.”
“Why?” His voice lowered a fraction, eyebrows furrowed.
A flash of anger darkened his eyes—a flash of fear parting his lips.
It made sense, really. He'd been alone with our mother before I'd arrived, trapped within a circle of flames, smoke crawling into his lungs. He had more reason than I to fear her.
“Because dad never told us anything,” I answered, frustration creeping into my voice. In those early days, I had a lot of questions. Auden too. If our father had answered them, perhaps I wouldn’t be here now, typing her name in a search engine as though she were a mere case study and not my mother.
“Are you trying to find her?” Auden asked.
Without answering his question, I closed my laptop, launched to my feet, and steered Auden out of my bedroom. He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off before he had the chance. “Do you want to meet Nathaniel tonight?”
The question seemed to have caught him off guard. “What?”
“Nathaniel. My boyfriend. Do you want to meet him?”
“I can’t,” he said, stunned.
I knew he was shy, especially around new people, but I hadn’t expected a flat-out no. “Why not? Nathaniel has been dying to meet you. You can just say hello. I won’t make you talk for long.”
“I can’t,” Auden said, hands fluttering anxiously at his sides.
I didn’t want to cause him any more anxiety, so I merely nodded and ruffled his hair. “Okay, not tonight then. But soon, alright?”
“Okay,” Auden whispered, face pale.
That night, Auden remained locked up in his room when Nathaniel came over.
We played video games on my couch, a shared blanket draped over us as we competed for the first-place trophy in Mario Kart.
Nathaniel had been disappointed not to meet Auden, but he didn’t push.
He said two of his brothers were shy too, so he understood.
In between competitive shouting and teasing, there were long kisses, our fingers intertwined as we melted into each other’s arms. He kept his promise, of never asking for more, but I still felt guilty, as though I were withholding something from him.
And there was insecurity, too, a fear that he would seek physical intimacy elsewhere.
It would cause me to grow distant, and Nathaniel, through no fault of his own, became a potential enemy in my mind.
I fought through it, knowing jealousy had jeopardised my friendship with Ava and I didn’t want it to do the same with Nathaniel.
The following day, Nathaniel invited me inside his favourite place in the world—other than my arms, of course.
His words, not mine. He seemed nervous, words pouring from his lips twice as fast as he explained that he'd never shown anyone outside of his family this room before. It was his treasure, his safe space.
Biting his lip, he paused in front of a tall, dark oak door, fingers curled around the golden handle. I waited, patiently, as the door creaked open and Nathaniel gestured for me to step inside, his eyes wide and vulnerable.
It was his music room—soundproof walls lined with charcoal padding, a large classical piano in the left-hand corner, black paint polished, shining in the room's dim light.
Beside the piano, a long wooden cabinet displayed several trophies and awards, Nathaniel's musical achievements starting from the age of five.
Three violins and a cello hung on stands by the right-hand corner, a glass table littered with music books and instrument cleaning products beside it.
As he approached the piano, I realised this was his equivalent of my art studio.
He was showing his canvases, letting me into his art.
“I wrote you something,” he said. His fingers found their assigned keys, stool groaning as he shifted to make room beside him. "I started writing it before we even…"
"Even what?"
"Started dating," he chuckled breathlessly.
I lowered myself down next to him, our thighs pressed together. He tested one of the many white keys beneath his fingers, and then, with one last inhale, music spilled into the air.
It was soft, a gentle caress against my cheek, a private kiss under the moonlight. And then it was wild, as though we were running barefoot in the woods, the meadow, the galleries.
Nathaniel’s fingers moved effortlessly along the keyboard, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he chased the music that poured from his soul.
I closed my eyes as the music grew louder, chaotic, more intense. It was circling me, surrounding me, consuming me.
My heart thundered against my chest, and behind my closed eyelids, I was running. I was running from Nathaniel, ducking under tree branches and leaping over moss-covered logs. But Nathaniel was too fast. He caught me, arms wrapped around my waist, holding me in a firm, warm embrace.
The music calmed. It was quiet, almost shy. It was asking a question—a question I hadn’t known the answer to until this very moment.
Nathaniel—the one behind my closed eyelids—held me. He held me and he calmed me and he loved me. He infiltrated my guarded walls and conquered the caged monster of my heart.
I tasted salt on my lips as my eyelids fluttered open, a thumb on my cheek, wiping the tear away before I could process the music had ended.
“What do you think?” he asked quietly.
“I think that was beautiful,” I whispered, “And I think I love you.”