The snow filtered through the air. It was pure white, the edges of the crystal snowflakes were pristine and precise. The air blew harsh winds and the cold breeze was unforgiving. The desolate temperatures brought frozen paths and dying trees, lakes that used to be filled with spring waters, now covered in a sheen layer of ice that was more deceiving than it appeared.

Elio still thought about summer, not saying that specific summer, but summer nonetheless. He thought of the peach trees swaying in the breeze, waving to him from his bedroom window, a temptation to reach out and touch. The warm grass under his toes, pricking his back as he absorbed the suns bright rays. The lake, the spring water filled lake, the cool stream of water flowing through his toes and ankles, leading him to places he had never gone.

He tried not to think about it, he really did, tried not to think about them standing so far apart yet so close in that god forsaken river, speaking about the things that matter and how Elio knew at that moment that he craved Oliver like he craved air.

In dreams he saw them at the train station, hugging for the last time, did it have to be the last time, and Oliver not looking back on the train. They say you never remember pain, that its always a foreign feeling, but Elio remembered that pain. He remembered the pain of watching Oliver leave and the heart crushing pain of going back to his room and seeing everything back to normal. Pain was not a foreign feeling to Elio.

But that note, the note, the note with those three little words that spoke so much. That note had given him hope.

But hope died, just like the summer breeze.

Elio closed the door behind him, shutting out the winter chill. He pulled off his hat, putting it on the rack and walking further into his home.

He had been out, meeting another Alpha, he had convinced his parents that this would be good for him, he refused to be a hermit omega that lived their life sheltered behind their parents, and who cares if he ended up never meeting someone good, give him props for trying.

The Alpha had been named Alberto, he had been tall, blonde, wide chest and a knack for correcting everything Elio knew. He had been much to narcissistic for Elio's taste, as well as too fucking arrogant. He couldn't stand the arrogance of Italian Alphas, or maybe he wanted too much.

He shook his head, throwing those thoughts from his frontal lobe, refusing to ruin Hanukkah with thoughts of him.

He walked into thew library, throwing himself onto a armchair, Talking Heads playing through his cassette player. He chewed on the cord and pulled off one side of his headpiece, listening as his parents tried to chose a new candidate for his fathers exchange program.

The ringing of the phone caused his to stand, a yell of 'I'll get it!' resounding through the air. He walked to the phone, saying hello in Italian, assuming it was probably a neighbor who needed help with shoveling out their walkway.

"Elio, is that you?" His hand clenched around the phone and he sat on the chair, a smile more like a grimace crossing his face.

"I'm here, I'm here. How are you?"

"Fine. How are your parents?" Of course he was fine.

"They're good, real good."

There was a beat of silence between them, neither knowing what to say.

"I miss you. Very, very much. I don't think you have any idea how much I miss you. Everyday, Every hour, I miss you." Elio listened to the worlds that Oliver spoke, not speaking for he knew his voice would betray him and he would crumble.

"Well I'm calling for a reason." Elio found he waited a beat before responding.

"What, let me guess, you're getting married or something?" He laughed at the idea of Oliver marrying some little American omega. But that idea became less laughable as Oliver remained silent.

"My parents found a girl for me, her name is Jane. She's nothing like you. As of right now were planning a summer wedding."

"Oliver! Oliver! When are you coming to visit? We miss you!"

Elio wasn't listening to what his parents were saying to Oliver, mind reeling between Oliver getting married and the note he took with him everywhere. He heard his parents say that he would let them talk.

"Elio you still there?"

"Yeah, yeah. That's wonderful news, I''m happy for you." His voice sounded empty and hollow, void of any real emotion. A beat of silence passed between them. He didn't know what to say, what did Oliver want to hear? That he was happy that Oliver was going to move on and mate with someone else, someone that wasn't him. He almost wished Oliver hadn't called, he wished he could've lived his life never knowing about Oliver.

"You were always a terrible liar." Oliver laughed the words but Elio found no humor.

"Well I am happy for you, I'd be happy no matter what you did Oliver."

"I wish you weren't. I wish you'd scream at me and call me an idiot for doing something as stupid as trying to mate someone that isn't you. But then again I know you Elio, the things that matter are you the one's you are always so unaware of." Elio felt his eyes water and lower lip quiver.

"Where do we go from here Oliver?"

He listened to Oliver breath through the phone, the tears not breaking from his eyes. His mind went back to that night, their first night together in the two beds pushed together. He tried to remember the summer breeze and the swaying peach trees, apricot juice dripping past Oliver's lips as he gulped down glass after glass. His rippling back muscles in his green shorts as he hit the tennis bowl to the opposing team, Chiara's hands running across his back as they danced to the Psychedelic Furs. The statue's hand that was their truce, the handshake that ended their bickering and brought longing looks and shy touches.

He closed his eyes and remembered his nosebleed, sitting with his feet in Oliver's lap as the older Alpha tried to take away his pain. He had called himself a mess, and that's what he was. He was a mess of an omega that craved a man a world away from him. He would swim the waters of the world and hitchhike every ride he could if he could just see Oliver one last time.

"…. Oliver Oliver Oliver Oliver Oliver Oliver….."

"Elio." He heard Oliver sigh into the phone, he didn't know if it was in pain or happiness.

"I remember everything." No words were spoken between the two men, neither knowing what to say.

"I'm going to make things right Elio. For me, for you, for us. And you might not like what I've done, and you may want to hit me in the face, but I'm gonna make things right. I just hope its not too late. And I hope you got my note, and knowing you you probably did, and just- I need you Elio, I need you to do it for just a little longer. Don't give up on me, not yet at least. And I know I've hurt you, that I've played with your heart, that you gave it to me to love and cherish and I threw it away without a second thought. And I'm sorry, I wish I could go back to that summer and live in it forever, live with you in my arms. But I can't, the only thing I can do is make things right between us and never make the same mistake again. I will never forgot the taste of you in my mouth and I hope you haven't forgotten me Elio, because until I die I will want in you in my arms, in my life, in everything I do. You are my everything Elio Perlman and I love you."

He couldn't hold back the tears that streamed down his face, couldn't hold back the sobs cracking through his throat at Oliver's words. He pulled the phone away from his ear and gingerly put it back in the receiver. He vaguely heard his mother and father come in and gasp at his sadness, both rushing over to console their distraught son. They assumed he was crying on account of Oliver's marriage, but that was farthest from the truth. His brain was overrun with memories and feelings of Oliver, they were coming to him in bursts of emotions and bright colors.

Peaches burst behind his eyelids, his white pearly cum dripping from its torn core. His head grew heavy with sadness and happiness colliding right before his very eyes. He felt his mother pull away, his father resting his hand on his shoulder.

"It will all work out in the end Elly. Trust me on this." He opened his eyes and looked at his fathers smile, sniffling and nodding at his watchful gaze. Elio stood up and went to the dining room, looking at Mafalda and his mother as they put out Latkes for Hanukkah. He would usually try and sneak a bite but tonight he was just not fully there. His mind was with Oliver's. He looked to the fireplace and sat before it, looking at the glowing embers, not daring to reach out and touch one. His emotions felt like the fire, unruly and ever changing, moving with unprecedented motions that had no agenda, just lived to burn.

He burned for Oliver, his soul burned for Oliver's soul, two beings meant to be together, forever. He was the lore that men were created with two faces, four arms and legs that we were once merged with our soul mate and all was good. But man was punished, and we were separated, the one being became two, sharing the same heart yet their beings blown worlds apart. The soul mates were separated, destined to wander and find one another through chance and hope.

And he had found Oliver, found the one who his heart was destined to nestle up against, their faces fit together like a puzzle and their souls were one. He burned for the Alpha who had stepped on the train and not looked back, the Alpha who was destined for another omega who was not him.

I have loved you for the last time

Is it a video?

Is it a video?

He pursed his lips and felt his eyes water once more, using his hand to rub away his sorrow. He heard his mother call his name, the latkes were ready, and he stood, smiling at her. She could see through it clearly, but simply smiled. Elio, his mother and farther, and Mafalda all sat at the table though Elio looked to the fire. He vaguely heard the a knock on the door, looked to Mafalda when she stood and rushed to open it. His mother stood as well, patting her lips with her napkin and walking after Mafalda.

Elio looked to his father. "I'm here for you Elly. Always will be." The cigarette he had been smoking was tapped in the ashtray.

"Ullivar! A la muvi star! What a surprise!"

Elio's fork clattered to his plate and his eyes shot to the hallway, believing to have been hearing things because there was no way he had heard his mother say Oliver's name. His eyes shot to his father who just happened to be looking out the window.

He stood on shaky legs as he heard loud footfalls, assumed to be associated with long strides, and held his breath.

Oliver stood in the doorway.

He had gotten taller, or maybe his long coat helped with his height. He still looked the same, same hard jaw and dirty blonde hair. Same piercing blue eyes that could hold a man in place. Unlike during the summer, his body was covered from head to toe, the winter air would've torn his shorts to bits.

He didn't move from the doorway, but simply stared at Elio.

"How ….?" Elio couldn't say much, he was stunned.

"I had called you from the train station, the one that I had gotten on to leave you. Thought it would be good for me to relive that day."

"You know what I mean. Why are you here Oliver?"

Oliver looked to his father, the man tapped his cigarette and stood, making his way to presumably find his wife and Mafalda.

"I told you on the phone Elio. I'm going to make things right. And being here, right now, is the first step." Elio walked around the table, staring at Oliver. How badly he wanted to just run and jump in his arms, but resisted. Elio reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumbled note, and threw it on the floor between them.

"Am I finally done waiting?"

Oliver smiled and nodded, rushing forward to capture Elio in his arms. They embraced and Elio breathed in his smell, having missed it all too much. Oliver breathed in Elio, squeezing his arms tighter around the omega, never wanting to let him go.

Oliver had missed this, had missed feeling Elio's curls on his face, the boys thin arms winding around his waist. He had waited so long, had made Elio wait so long. He had hurt them both so much, but he was here now. Elio was in his arms.

"Oliver." Elio's voice was mumbled into Oliver's jacket, promoting the older man to pull back and look at the younger boys face.

"To speak or to die? What would you choose? Right now?"

Oliver smiled at the words spoken from the pink plush lips.

"My voice belongs to you Elio, I would speak a thousand words if you asked, and right now, I would not die."

Elio stood on his tip toes and pushed his lips to Oliver, stars bursting behind both of their eyes. They were together, Elio and Oliver, Oliver and Elio. They were a fire burning space of their hearts, and that fire, their fire, would never burn out.