The last Summer night
Willkommen, o silbernen Mond,
Schöner, stiller Gefährt der Nacht!
Du entfliehst? Eile nicht, bleib, Gendankenfreund!
Sehet, er bleibt, das Gewölk wallet nur hin.
Das Mayes Erwachen ist nur
Schöner noch, wie die Sommernacht,
Wenn ihm Thau, hell wie Licht, aus der Locke träuft,
Und zu dem Hügel herauf röthlich er kömt.
-Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock-
Gellert was golden and strong like a daffodil, blond and rich like the continental corn, wide and wild like the windy steppe. Gellert's kisses hurt like the winter chill, his heart was darker than the Black Forest's night. And Albus knew.
- It's almost morning…- Gellert whispered on Albus' skin, on Albus' smooth, throbbing throat, on Albus' chest raising along with the rising sun.
- I'll miss you so much…- suspired he, with the declining moon. Planets assumed mysterious dispositions, asymmetrical alignments, secret circles, like those that Gellert was tracing on his heart.
- Love you… for the greater good.
His hand was still a in tracing lines in stone