It's not like anything matters anymore. I can decide to do whatever I want but instead of doing so, I choose to do what I hope will make you the happiest. It makes me feel like I betray myself sometimes, it does. But if it makes you happier when I choose to stay beside you than leave, I guess that should be rewarding enough to fuel my ego. To see you smile was all I ever wanted. Nowadays, it is rare to get even that little from you.
It's dark in here and the thick curtains are pulled in front of the window, perhaps to let less light in when an occasional sunbeam hits the glass, perhaps to shield you from what is out there; from something or someone you wish to forget. No matter the reason, this makes it hard for me to focus my eyes on practically anything. Doing so hurts them, especially if I focus harder to try and see what you're writing. You wouldn't want me to see anyway, even though I am bored out of my own mind while I sit here. This I have told you, but I know you are far from bored yourself. Why should you stop what you're doing, only to entertain me. I could have stood up minutes ago and left you here in the dusk by yourself after all, to entertain myself. But I didn't. I couldn't leave you like that.
It is warm too, the air outside is thick, even though it's getting late and the sun will soon be sinking beyond the horizon. The thought brings my eyes to the window but all I see is a bright sky through a slit in the thick fabric, the color of the clouds quickly turning from blue to pink before my eyes. I cannot remember the last time I ever saw white clouds though. They all look polluted these days.
You move next to me and draw my attention to you once more. You're in pain, I can see it in your eyes but you would never tell me. You think you hide it so well, but every time you feel that burning, numbing pain shoot through your back and chest all you can do is turn your eyes from me, hoping I won't see your despair in their cold, gray depth. You amaze me. You truly believe you can still deceive me, after all this time.
You clasp the covers of the uncomfortable bed beneath us, bite down on your lip and for a moment I can see a tear at the corner of your eye. It is gone as soon as I notice it though, and before long, all what is left of your slight indication of pain is the wrinkles your hand left against the covers, and a damp streak running from your left eye to chin. I want to reach out for you, to dry your tear away in order to make you feel alive again, feel loved. But I know you would only push my fingers away, cold eyes would pierce me in the matter of seconds and I would once more be completely naked beneath your gaze.
I lower my hand, which had left its resting place in my lap without my knowledge, and pretend I never noticed your desperation. You wouldn't have wanted me to see anyway. I know this.
As the minutes pass, the only sound I hear from around me is the soft scratching, coming from the paper on which you're drawing and some kind of humming noise from a lost insect, hovering somewhere above my head. I wish I could let it out, but if I stood up, I would most defiantly disturb you and why would I ever do that deliberately? The scratching stops and I look up, only to be met by your deep eyes, which captivate me instantly and forces me to keep my eyes to you. No matter how hard I would try, I could never get away from your eyes.
"You have been watching me?" you ask and your voice is soft like silk, yet rough as pavement. You haven't been drinking anything buy whiskey and your throat must be as dry as the paper on which your hands rest. I wan to offer you something to drink but my words are stuck in my throat before I even come close to speaking and all I can do is pull in a shaking breath. "Tell me, brother..." you continue and softly put the quill and paper away. "...when you watch me, like you always do, what do you see?"
"..you" I try to say, but it leaves me like a whisper and you grin, like you always do. Which of course is the closest to a smile I have gotten from you in years. "I see you"
"Strange" You're voice is smoother now that you have said more than one word and your rough palms reach for me, pulling me down with you as your breath tickles its way down my cold neck. "Considering the fact that you stare for so long some times, you must be able to see straight through me by now..." You're mocking me, but I don't mind as your lips close around mine, your fingers dig into my skin. You could have killed me a long time ago, this you know, and still here I am, with you. You could have punished me for what I did to you, my brother, but you never do. You sit here in your dark room, closing the world away with thick curtains and hard glass, speaking with no one and yet.. when I am here, it is as if you never left, as if you never lost your footing or dropped over a thousand feet.
"Brother..." I breathe out and feel your fists harden against my skin, your breath burning my earlobe painfully before your eyes meet my amber ones. "..forgive me..."
I know you will always say you already have. You could never hold a grudge, which is far from your biggest flaw. You could never blame anyone but yourself for your own shortcomings and if someone ever told you how much I blame myself for what happened to you, I believe you would devote your life to making me realize there was never anything to forgive between us. But brother, I too, am flawed. There is blame to be lied on me, which you could never understand with that burning heart of yours. I am the sward which struck you to the ground, I am the blade who caused you all your pain and anger. Lay your fury on me brother, forgive Him and let your wrath touch my soul every day as I deserve.
You look at me. Your eyes are large and filled with confusion at my words and I know, this time, like every other time, you will tell me I have nothing to be forgiven for. But you're wrong.
"Don't say that Michael..." eventually smile, wiping the tears now rolling from my eyes. You're so wrong. "I have nothing to forgive..." You're so wrong. "...You have never wronged me brother..."
But I have. And as long as your wings shall wither, as long as your eyes grow darker with each sunset, I will be right here beside you, body and soul, praying for you to make your way back home. For as long as I live, you will be my star in the darkness, no matter what they say, no matter how many times I had to strike you bloody. For as long as I live, with every ounce of life left in my body I too shall cry into the quickly setting sun;
Father, why have you forsaken me?