Work Text:
Edwin sat by the big window, the one on the second floor. It was the one that gave him the best view of the entrance of the manor.
His knuckles firmly pressed against each other, his green and red sweater almost too hot. Perhaps it was just his mind being paranoid, but he couldn't help but wonder: what if everyone changed their minds about him? What if they weren't coming anymore? He had been waiting... What? Forty minutes? One hour? And not even Charles had showed up. It surely must be something wrong with-
"Edwin!" The firm voice of his father took him out of his mind. "Dear boy, stop wasting time by the window and go help your mother and Phyllis in the kitchen." Edwin made a face, one his strict but dear father knew how to interpret immediately. "Stop worrying about Charles. You know deep down he couldn't leave you for the life of his." Once again, his father was right. "I already told you what to do."
Edwin rolled his eyes, earning a playful shoulder squeeze from his father as he headed downstairs.
“Aw!” His eldest sister, Arabella, made her best effort to ruffle Edwin’s hair. “You look adorable with that sweater! Hold up-“ She reached into his pocket, taking her phone to take a picture Edwin barely managed to avoid as his face flushed with embarrassment. He had a great desire to tell her to fuck off, but he wouldn’t talk like that to any of his siblings.
“Are you waiting for Charles? Is he coming?” Arabella asked, putting her phone back.
“I am.” He takes a dignified breath, doing his best attempt to put his hair back how it used to be. “On the while I’ll be helping in the kitchen. Do you have any idea if Phyllis is still preparing for the dinner?”
“Probably not,” Arabella said. “Mother said she’s been at it since yesterday. I’ll go with you,”
Edwin huffed. Why was it so hard to just get a bloody second for himself? What if he wanted to drown in his sorrow of missing Charles alone? What if he wanted him to snap at his mean relatives that criticize him for wanting to stay in his room? And what if he wanted to escape with him like last year and walk in the forest until he stops being overwhelmed about all the unusual people at his home?
He said nothing, however, and the time it took them to reach the kitchen, he wanted to peel his skin off.
His mother greeted his sister and him with loving kisses on their foreheads, her exact words getting lost in the chatter of chef Phyllis with her workers. The kiss was uncomfortably wet, probably from her having been tasting all the different dishes being prepared. Edwin used his sleeve to clean his skin off and his mother feigned offence, a hand on her chest as she came closer with a napkin.
“You should go get your earmuffs, dearest.” His mother said as she cleaned the mark of lipstick she claimed to have left on Edwin. “Bring your father his own pair, you know he gets uneasy without them.”
There were a lot of things in common between Mr. Payne and his eldest son. Hypersensitivity and an almost unhealthy obsession with early-twentieth-century books being one of them. It felt nice, less lonely. Edwin still remembers the day his father figured out what the other boys were doing at Saint Hilarion’s. He took twelve-year-old Edwin into his office and sat him at the desk. Claimed he would deal with the boys later and then asked Edwin about his latest favourite detective. He was shy to talk about that sort of stuff with a stern man that always claimed anything but being realistic were naiveties, but now? They have a book club once a month.
Edwin didn’t need to be told twice about the earmuffs, however. He had become quite an expert in moving around without being detected, always escaping the loud roars of laugher, heavy footsteps, and loud voices since he acquired reason and the ability of walking by himself. There’s even a picture somewhere of his toddler self at a classmate’s party, crying and covering his ears. It beat him why anyone would take a picture of a crying child, but at least it somewhat worked as evidence for the next year, where he was diagnosed with autism, which lead both his parents taking tests themselves, and oh, what a surprise, the Payne family comes with a certain gene.
The earmuffs brought peace, not only his ears stopped aching but the snugness around his head was kind of reassuring. It reminded Edwin of Charles, in a way, or at least of the way he would squeeze him as a mean to calm him down.
And lucky for him, both his father and Charles were in the same place, Mr. Payne receiving the object of Edwin’s adoration and the rest of their friends inside.
Edwin gave his father his own ear protection, and once he walked away and Charles looked everywhere in the search of anyone who could stop them, he gave Edwin a kiss. “Sorry mate. Went to pick up everyone and lost track of time. You okay, yeah? No headaches yet?”
Edwin simply sighed, resting against Charles and hiding his face on the crook of his neck. He was safe now.