Disclaimer: I still don't own The Power of Five! Can you believe it?
When he had his nightmares, he always wished someone could comfort him.
But there was no one there. That ship sailed during the day and night, rocking gently on the Southern ocean. The captain had no clear destination in mind; he just wanted to escape Antarctica, and so did the passengers.
Richard was guilty. He was more than just guilty. Every second of his life seemed like a stab on his chest. All he could see was Matt. The knife as he plunged it through his heart. The broken body that he had wept into. Tears would start streaming down his face when no one was looking. And the worse feeling that he had was of self-pity. He thought about how he would live without his friend. Richard often asked himself: Why am I alive?
But unknown to the journalist, somebody had been noticing him. Somebody was there who would look at him cry into the night silently, who wanted to comfort him despite all his harshness.
Lohan felt as if somebody had slapped him every time Richard cried. He felt a tightening feeling in the chest. A sense of sadness.
One night when Richard was again going through his ordeal Lohan walked into his cabin. Richard quickly wiped away his tears. He did not want anyone to think he was weak.
Lohan sat down next to him and looked at him silently.
"Can I do something for you, Lohan?" Richard asked, keeping his voice straight.
"Punishing yourself won't bring him back," Lohan replied softly.
"Easy for you to say. Have you ever lived with guilt?" Richard said.
Lohan did not reply to this. Richard smiled slightly. It was a small, sad smile; the one given by a person who had surrendered to life.
"See? You don't understand. You never had any guilt."
"I have been living with my guilt for years, Richard," Lohan whispered.
Richard looked at him in shock. He found it unbelievable. Lohan, feeling guilty of something?!
Lohan faced him and in the dark Richard could only see his silhouette.
"Being a triad was not easy. What do you think, we don't feel? Watching so many of your colleagues die… I always feel that it is my fault. They were my friends. I loved them. Never said so, but nonetheless I loved them. And they are all dead, because of me."
Richard lowered his eyes and nodded slowly. He understood what Lohan was talking about.
"I hate to see you cry," Lohan said.
"And I hate to see you so sad. And guilty," Richard replied.
He could feel a warm tugging sensation in his stomach. His fingers were slightly trembling and he felt relaxed, yet nervous.
Lohan was feeling very warm. His cheeks were turning red and a smile crept on his lips.
The two looked at each other for a while. They knew what they wanted, had known it for a long time, just realised now.
Lohan took off his shirt to expose a muscular strong body. He leaned in and kissed Richard. Their lips seemed to be glued. Richard traced his back with his fingers and Lohan cupped his face in his hands. They sucked at each other's lips, enjoying it, feeling great, greater than they ever felt.
Still kissing, Lohan pushed Richard into the bed, so that he was now over the journalist. But the two refused to pull away.
They were both guilty, and had the same problems. But they were strong because they had each other.
And they realised it that night.