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Raoul was the boy from next door and Erik despised him. A handsome face and an insolent personality to go along with it. He sends him glares behind his back and hates him silently.
But he's not blind.
He sees the bruises that color his lean figure, perhaps a bit too lean, and the shouts that come from next door that are too loud and gruff to be Raoul's.
Raoul has a brother. He doesn't know the name, only the look of absolute delight that Raoul sprouts whenever his brother visits from the army, all proper and pristine in his uniform. When he leaves, Raoul always has tenfold the amount of bruises and he doesn't like to talk.
Erik averts his eyes away from Raoul whenever he sees him running out of the house, looking particularly bruised and bleeding. It has nothing to do with him. He hates Raoul, his stupid smile whenever his brother comes home, his dirty blond hair, and his looks that doesn't look as if it belongs in this shabby little town.
Erik hates many things.
Raoul, his face, the hot sweltering summer heat, and his mother.
His mother who hits him in the head with glass bottles, who burns her cigarette on the ugly side of his face, the mother who can't look at him for a second without an insult spewing from her pretty cherry lips.
He hates the men she brings home. Some of them are pitiful and send him sad looks, some ignore him, and some are just like his mother. And he hates every single one of them.
Hate is the only thing he knows.
He hates Raoul for living with someone like his mother, but still smile and laugh. He hates that he dances underneath the sun and enjoy the cool summer breeze when his bruises look as if someone had colored him in purple paint.
He hates him, he hates him, he hates him.
When Raoul, unexpectedly, sits next to him on the hilltop, underneath the shade of a tree, Erik is reminded of just how much he hates him.
His face scrunches up instantly and he spits out, "This spot's taken."
Raoul smiles and Erik could see a bruise underneath his eye. "I'm sure you could afford to share a spot."
"Fine. Fine, I'll give you whatever you fucking want," Erik says, his hate spewing inside him. "I'm leaving." And he does.
Or rather, tries to. He gets up and he's close to walking away, but Raoul suddenly grabs his defenseless wrist and held on tightly. Erik is really too in shock to react.
"Your mother abuses you too, right?"
And the shock is gone, only the same damilar feeling of red hot rage and absolute utter hate.
"Do you think we could bond over some stupid shit like being abused? Some stupid abuse buddies? You think I'm like you? Well, fuck off. I don't care about you being abused. My mother is a filthy whore who hits me with glass bottles and I hate her, but I hate you just as much." Erik is red in the face from the lack of breath in his speech. He's breathing heavily and glaring daggers into Raoul who looks up at him with wide eyes.
It's silent.
"My father did that too," Raoul says, breaking the silence.
Erik could do nothing, but laugh in hysteria. He pulls his hand away from Raoul's tight grip which was on him the whole speech, pulling away hard. He walks away with more hate than he started out with.
Raoul is nothing but persistent.
He sits near the window facing towards Erik's house and waves in Erik's general direction, with bruises and ugly scars on his smiling face.
Despite all those imperfections marring his face, he still looks handsome and Erik does not appreciate it, not with the mask over half of his face.
He ignores him.
Raoul brings half a chocolate bar, something Erik only dreams of tasting, but Erik slaps it away, his pride far greater than the childish want to taste sugar, ans ignores him. Erik is assaulted with unexpected affection from Raoul and he doesn't know how to deal with being strangers, only connected by being neighbors, to this close friendship.
He goes along with his life as if he isn't there. Works hard on chores and endures his mother's words and beatings.
She contiues to beat him as if she was going to make the other part of his face deformed and Erik is chased outside. He takes a place outside of the house, utterly spiteful and wanting desperately so to hit something. Specifically, his mother.
"Erik!" It's a voice calling him, snapoing him out of his thoughts of revenge, a cheerful and chirpy voice that takes him half a second to recongize.
He turns his head towards the direction of where the voice was coming from. Raoul sat outside of his house as well, with so much more bruises and blood than he's ever had. His knees were touching his chest as he hugged his legs.
"Raoul," Erik answers softly. "You look like shit."
And Raoul mocks hurt at those words, sputtering and all, but he's unable to keep that facade up as he bursts out laughing and started animatedly telling Erik about the stupidest of things.
Erik is hungry, aching from his mother's beatings, but today is the least amount of hate he's ever felt.
He still hates Raoul though.
Raoul is the first person he shows his music to. It's late at night in the church and Raoul excitedly brings Erik inside.
It's dark and silent in here, no one but them are there. Erik does not know why he agreed to follow, but his mother had kicked him out again and he had nothing to do.
Raoul had shown him a secret entrance in the back of the huge building to get inside of the church. They never didn't say no to Erik coming in, but the looks given by the priest and everyone there was enough to shun him away.
But it's dark and no one is here, but Raoul, who looks at him like they were friends. He can't describe it, but it's a warm feeling that he will never admit to.
There's a grand piano for the choir, and Erik is so excited at the sight of a piano, that he ignores Raoul completely and starts to play.
His dad, the man he had never known, used to have a piano. Erik taught himself how to play it until his mother had sold it, complaining about how loud Erik was.
The sight of a piano, especially something well crafted as this made Erik giddy as he starts to play.
The notes come back to him, familiar and comforting. It leaves him content as he plays the piece that he had remembered, ingrained it into his memory despite these many years.
When he finishes, he hears a loud clap amd turned his head towards Raoul, whom he had forgotten was there. He felt embarrassment fill him as he realizes.
"You're amazing," Raoul says, wide eyes and looking as if Erik had given him the world on a single plate.
And without helping it, he smiles.
Raoul sits next to him and pretends to play in his offkey voice, making stupid words match the arbitrary mess of notes he was playing. Erik laughs and Raoul looks pleased with himself.
The next time they come to the church, Raoul pulls him towards him and kisses him. It's like Raoul, sweet and soft. Erik stayed still for a few moments before reciprocating the kiss.
When they pull, Erik feels confused and very happy for some reason.
"We kissed in a church," He says breathlessly. "Us. Two boys."
Raoul giggles at those words and kisses his cheeks lightly. "Let God judge."
Erik feels warm and tingly inside as he's positice his cheeks had now turned red. He's thankful it'a dark and Raoul couldn't see the ugly blotches of red on his face. Nor the ugly bruises from him mother.
It's in this moment he undoubtedly loves Raoul more than anyone.
"Yeah," He whispers softly and leans in for another kiss.
Today, Raoul looks utterly shaken and he's even crying. It's the first time he's ever truly seen Raoul cry. Erik says nothing, he's worried that it might have something to do with his father and he does not mention it.
He talks about a comic book he found, a comment on how summer was slowly ending, his new idea for a music piece.
It takes a few moments of skipping around the problem, avoiding it, but Raoul always spilled everything, always told Erik everything.
"Philippe died in battle," Raoul cries out between tears. "His body wasn't even found. We couldn't have a funeral for him."
"Your dad wouldn't have a funeral for him even if he was found," Erik says.
To anyone else, it would seem unpleasant and rude for him to say, that he had no tact, but Raoul knew Erik well enough that he was attempting some form of comfort.
He hugs Erik tightly. He's shaking so much that even Rrik slightly shakes.
"Can I just have some time for myself? I want to mourn for him alone."
Erik nods reluctantly. He doesn't want to leave him alone. Raoul looks too upset and Erik didn't want to leave Raoul by his lonesome when he looked so utterly lost. But he trusts Raoul.
"Okay."
And he stands up and walks away.
That was the last he's ever saw him.
Raoul is missing for four days before his dead body shows up in the river.
He's killed himself.
Erik has never known anything, but hate. He's learned love from Raoul, but today the hate is back.
He stomps angrily next door and Erik slams open the door. It's unlocked. The stupid drunkard can't even remember to open the door. He busts in and as soon as his eyes lock on the man surrounded with wine bottles, he sees red.
His hate returns.
"It's your fault, you stupid drunk bastard," He shouts loudly, his ears unable to hear himseld, only his rage with clenched fists and his urge to punch the stupid man. "If you'd been a better father, if you fucking cared."
"You--" The man's face turns pink and his face twists into something ugly. "--fucking shit. Come here, what do you think--"
Erik's suddenly grabbed by big hands and no matter how much he twists, the hands stay. It's awfully tight for a man who's had twelve bottles today.
"Let me go, you good for nothing fuck," Erik screams.
"I'll kill you, little shit," and he persistently holds on.
So he bites him. He lets go immediately in pain, shouting curses. Erik takes this chance to make an escape.
He ran.
He ran and ran, past Raoul's house, past the hilltop where he and Raoul enjoyed to laze around together, past the church where he and Raoul kissed, he ran from everything.
With Raoul, he learned to love.
With Raoul, he learned to hate even more than he ever could.