Bertrand
Maybe it was a little poetic. Whatever relationship they’d had with Callum might never be the same. Bertrand had expected things to change- how could they not? He had never expected this silence. In their childhood, Deryn and Callum had been almost like siblings, and he and Callum…
“I've seen very little of him."
Honestly, Bertrand had been hoping that maybe being here, away from Deryn’s father, would help Callum open up, and at least speak with Deryn. There was a part of Bertrand that felt angry about it all. Callum had left Deryn alone in her grief for all those years, and though Bertrand knew that it wasn’t truly Callum’s fault, everyone that had made that her reality seemed cold and cruel to him.
And yet, when Bertrand thought of Callum, he still remembered the fourteen-year-old boy he’d shared so much of his soul with, once. They’d all changed, and Bertrand had to accept that he’d been the one to change the least.
"I don't think Callum is ever going to come to us."
Bertrand knew that, really, but hearing it didn’t sting any less. Bertrand almost wanted to ask what Callum even had to be afraid of, when Deryn mentioned the possibility, but he quickly remembered that he and Callum weren’t the same. He’d often had to be reminded, when they were children, that they weren’t both afforded the same luxuries.
Brows knit together in frustration, Bertrand heaved a heavy sigh, “He should at least speak to you,” He shook his head, “It’s- I-” He closed his eyes, trying (and failing) not to look like a spoiled child who’d been denied dessert.
Calm your temper. Deryn’s done nothing to you. There’s no use getting worked up.
Bertrand never paid much mind to how much that rational voice in his mind sounded like his father, and not at all like himself.
“I don’t even care if he no longer wants anything to do with me,” Bertrand wasn’t sure if that were true, but still he added, “I just wish he’d tell me.”
It wasn’t even as if Bertrand had spent the last five years chastely laying around the castle, waiting for Callum to return. He just supposed he’d always imagined that they would pick right back up where they left off. But maybe it truly was nothing more than a game from their youth. He was probably foolish for ever considering it.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t go and speak with Callum; he was beginning to form some choice words in his mind.
“I’m being foolish, aren’t I?”[/b] Bertrand had already seen how people treated him: even now, most seemed to just agree with his ideas, some treated him as if he were fragile. As if offending or disagreeing with him were fatal. “I miss him, and I wish he had the decency to break my heart properly.” He smiled, as if to indicate he were only joking.
He walked a short way away, and bent over to pluck a small purple flower from its place. They were exceedingly common, but that had never made anything less beautiful. “We don’t have to discuss him any longer,” He turned and handed the flower to Deryn- something of an apology for bringing up an uncomfortable subject. “Thank you, Deryn. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”