Erroris
Written for Erin.
Horatio lies on the floor, on a horse-skin rug, looking up at the ceiling. He's always done this, since the beginning of forever. His hands are folded behind his head, and he glances over at Hamlet once in a while (Hamlet, himself, is sitting on the bed like a sane man, trying to read).
Just as Hamlet is finally getting back into the rhythm of his book after the last disturbance, Horatio announces, "Your esteemed father organised a hunting party to-day. Neither you nor I attended. How likely do you think it when they get back he'll have at us?"
"It's very unlikely, Horatio. Mother likes us to read."
"We're reading?"
"When you cease to go on, I'm making a kind of effort of it, yes."
"But I am not. As the prince's companion, I'm failing most entirely. I keep you from your reading and I spend a great deal of time giving your mother conversation instead of you."
"You give me enough conversation, be assured," Hamlet tells him wryly.
"What are you reading?"
"I hardly know. I've not much touched it yet."
Horatio smiles brightly, and falls silent, likely counting stones in the ceiling. Hamlet goes back to his book.
But it isn't for a moment as though he's displeased with Horatio. He adores Horatio, even when he's acting the silliest man in the world. Horatio can, in a way, charm anyone; Hamlet's father, his mother, and of course Hamlet himself. He has a cheerful, sweet manner. Hamlet is rather quite sure that everyone in Elsinore loves Horatio.
And of all Elsinore only he is lucky enough to have Horatio's kisses as well as his companionship. No one could deny their fast friendship, but no one thinks it more than that.
Hamlet doesn't mind it that way. Dear Horatio is all his, is more constant than a girl like Ophelia might be, and understands him better than anyone ever has. Soon Horatio will be going to college somewhere else, but Hamlet knows they'll have letters. He fancies sometimes that he'll always be happy with Horatio. They live the best of lives right now, and at moments like this, with Horatio flopped down on the rug and philosophising, he feels it will never change.
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