"Colemet!"
I'm not sure I'm ready for the emotional endeavor of seeing Airmet again, but it comes upon me like a wave crashing around me, and I have to bear it no matter what.
Airmet throws her arms around me before I have time to respond, but I just smile gently and allow her to, slowly hugging back. "Hey, Air..." I say tiredly.
She pulls away with a wild look in her eyes, looking me up and down. "Are you okay? How do you feel?" she asks, speaking a mile a minute.
Her rapid fire questions make my head hurt, but I keep on a good face for her. "I'll be okay..." I tell her.
We sit down together on my bed and I sigh. She looks at me with hesitance and worry. "How are you...holding up?" she asks.
I nod for assurance, and she squeezes my hand. "I'll be okay..." I say again, quietly.
We're both quiet for a moment, then she speaks again, looking into my eyes even though I want to tear the gaze. "What are you...thinking about?" By the look on her face, I know that she knows exactly what's going on; she knows of the torture I endured, the mental damage I've procured, and the symbol I'm now expected to represent. She knows of the overwhelm.
"I...I honestly don't want to talk about it, Air..." I say quietly. Everytime I look at Airmet, I still see home, I see what I once had and have something of my old life, something that didn't go through the storm, that was safe in shelter, and I can see her the same way. I don't want that to change.
At that, she simply nods. "Okay. Then we won't talk about it," she decides. After another moment of silence, she sighs quietly. "I'm so sorry all of this happened to you, Colemet," she whispers to me.
I sigh quietly too before answering. "It...it'll be okay," I tell her. "None of this is your fault." I look up at her again. "But I probably owe my life to you."
She frowns. "Me?"
I nod. "If it weren't for you and your father, and your brilliant gift, we wouldn't have made it," I tell her. "Thank you."
She smiles slightly, as smile I know all too well. "What are friends for?"
She leans and hugs me again, slowly, comfortingly, and I hug back. In this moment, I need no other closure from her. I don't need to tell her all I've been through, I don't need to ask if she's angry, I don't need any of it.
I just need this moment with one of my best friends.
...
Even though I'm emotionally drained in all aspects, I know I can't avoid my problems forever. After getting approved by the couple of caretakers here, I'm finally allowed to leave white, sterile room I've been confined to for goodness knows how long. I've been afraid to ask how much time is truly passed considering my internal clock feels broken in all respects.
I put on the clothes they gave me; a plain black shirt and gray capri pants. It's a bit more presentable than the hospital robes I've been wearing, though I've been trying not to care. These petty things distract my mind from the real problems. After combing through my hair, I go look for Sate.
I eventually find him in one of simple bedrooms on board the hovercraft; square, white walls, a plain bed, and a dresser. When I push open the door quietly, he's sitting on the edge of his unmade bed, the slept in sheets the only thing out of place in the room. His back is turned to me, and his head is down, staring at his hand. His hands are well worn and wounded from the arena, and he's scratching at them until they bleed.
I slip in the room silently. "You know, you really shouldn't pick at the wounds like that," I say as I shut the door.
He looks over his shoulder, startled. "Gosh. Colemet," he says. "You scared me."
"Sorry," I say, unknowing of what else to say.
He turns his body and looks at me fully, paying no mind to the blood on his hands. "They finally let you out?"
I nod. "Not exactly willingly, but they did. Reluctantly, I should say."
"Ah," he says, then nodding his head. He raises an eyebrow at me. "How do you feel?"
"I've been better."
"I can imagine."
We're both silent for a few moments. I finally walk over and sit next to him on the bed, staring at my hands as his bleed modestly.
"I'm sorry," I finally say, breaking the silence.
He smirks and lets out an airy breath. "It's not your fault," he says. "None of it. We're saved because of you."
"Yeah, but I caused so much havoc in between," I remind him.
He shrugs, as if casualties and trauma are no big deal. "You and Keeth didn't honestly form your plan and go into this thinking everyone would come out well and whole did you?"
I glance down. "No, I guess not." I know he's right...silence falls again. I stare at my hands in the mean time. Mine are so thin, my fingers long and pale. My right palm is bandaged and my two fingers on my left hand are damaged together. I don't notice the pain until now. Sate's are big, able to hold mine in his with ease. Their rugged but gentle, but now wounded and bleeding. I wish he had bandages too.
Finally, Sate is the one that breaks the silence. "Where are you with him?" he asks, his voice stiff with a nervous undertone that he doesn't intend to show.
"With who?" I'm afraid that I may already know the answer to that question...
"With Keeth."
I sigh quietly. "I...I don't know."
"Where are we?"
"I don't know" I answer again.
He sighs and puts his head in his hands, running his fingers through his dark hair and streaking a few strands with bright red blood.
"Do you know where we are?" I ask quietly.
He shakes his head. "I want to know. I know where I want to be." He turns and faces me, and I look at him. Our eyes are sad, but they meet one another's. The eyes that pulled me in at the start.
He reaches up and ever so gently strokes my cheek. "I meant what I said, you know," he says to me softly.
"Meant what?" I ask quietly back. I'm afraid of this answer too.
"That you're special. That you mean a lot to me," he says, then pauses as he looks in my eyes and stroke my cheek. "That you're an enigma I plan to crack."
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing of use comes. I sigh quietly and look in his eyes again. His eyes are sad and longing and wonderful all at the same time, and I wish I had the right words to tell him. I feel the same about him, in a way. He means a lot to me...
"We saved each other," I say quietly.
A slight smirk plays on the edge of his lips. "That we did," he says. "And we still do. We still can."
Can he save me?
Before I have time to truly answer my own question, he slowly leans forward and presses his lips to mine, kissing me softly and slowly and sweetly. I kiss back, responding gradually to the pleasant surprise. I wrap my arms around his neck and feel conscious of the sweet taste on his lips. Our lips move, smooth and fitting, and he braces his hands on my sides. He squeezes gently, but I don't think he means to. I think he's just nervous, scared, just like me.
Our kiss becomes more needy. Our lips collide harder and our hold on each other becomes tighter. We both try to move closer to each other somehow until we're pressed against one another. His pressure outweighs my own, and I'm slowly urged back until I'm laying on the bed. Sate slowly begins to rub my sides as he leans down with me. He pauses the kiss and we breathe, and he gently kisses the corner of my mouth. "I care about you, Colemet..." he whispers between the kiss. "I really do." He starts to kiss me again before I can respond and then squeezes my sides, this time intentionally.
It's a sweet kiss...
It eventually ends and I lay there, staring up at him as he hovers over me. I'm almost speechless. He reaches up his hand and gently strokes my cheek again. I'm out of breath and surprised for so many reasons.
"Where do we stand?" he asks again.
...
Not long after, because I know the thoughts will be eating at me, I go find Keeth. I think like Keeth, who doesn't usually want to be found, thinking about where I would go if I wanted to be alone. A bedroom isn't isolated enough for him...
I check the glass room.
This hovercraft, as I was told, has a glass room, a room where you're surrounded by clear glass so you can see the sky and the clouds all around you. I was also told it's not used very often, which gives me hope for my guess.
Sure enough, he's there.
I push open the door almost silently, and he doesn't seem to notice. Either that, or he doesn't bother to turn around. "Keeth," I say softly.
At the sound of my voice, he does turn around, almost too quickly. His face shows shock and relief at the same time. "Colemet," he says. He looks stricken all of a sudden, probably at the memory of restraining me, remembering how upset and desperate I was in those moments, the first few moments I had even been awake. "Are you okay?" he asks, almost urgently.
I nod. "I'm fine," I tell him. "Feeling a lot better."
He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it and just nods. "Good," is all he says. Then he turns away.
I slowly approach him, as if approaching a wild animal. I hate that feeling, having to approach him cautiously like I don't know what he's about to do, feeling like I don't know him. "Are...are you okay?" I ask carefully. I bite my lip.
He nods while looking through the glass across the distant miles of sky as we glide along in the air. "I'm fine," he says. Now I nod awkwardly.
After a few moments of silence, Keeth speaks again, still staring out the glass. "I never realized how beautiful the sky was," he says, his voice wondering and almost absent. "I was always too focused on what was on the ground and forgot that there was more."
"We never forgot, we always wondered," I tell him quietly. "But we never looked hard enough to find out."
"But now we did," he says.
"Yes, we did."
We're silent again after that. It's like a mutual acknowledgement passed between us in those few words, but I know we won't be able to leave it at that. We know each other too well for that.
Finally, he turns to face me, and I look up at him. He was always taller than me, and his sandy hair constantly falls in his gorgeous green eyes. I almost believe he does it on purpose. They say eyes are the window into the soul...and Keeth doesn't want to let anyone in, doesn't want anyone to see. No one except me; he's said that before, in the woods, on a cool autumn day when we sat close to one another for warmth. I remember I had never felt more special than when he told me that, and that made me realize that I could trust him.
I reach up and brush his sandy hair out of his eyes. His eyes are sad, just as Sate's were. And in the same moment, he reaches his hand up and pushes a stray blonde hair behind my shoulder. His fingers linger on my shoulder, down my arm, briefly and lightly. He drops his arm.
"Listen, Colemet, about that kiss..." he starts, a tinge of regret in his voice as his eyes cast downward. The regret makes my heart ache. "I...I was out of line. I shouldn't have done that, I'm-"
I interrupt him. "Do you regret it?" I ask him.
He sighs. "Yes...I mean, no...I mean..." He brings his eyes up to mine again finally and confusion passes his face. "Do you...want me to regret it?" he asks.
"I don't want you to regret anything between us, Keeth. I want you to be sure."
He looks at me peculiarly, as if trying to figure me out. Though he already has. He slowly, cautiously reaches out and takes my hand.
"Then I don't regret," he says. His voice doesn't waver at all this time. I squeeze his hand, and he squeezes mine back. A small smile plays at his lips.
"We make a pretty good team, don't we?" he asks.
"In the Games?" I ask.
"No. Always," he says. He takes my other hand in his hand as well. My heart starts to pound in my chest, but in a good way. "We've always been a team."
"And we always will be," I whisper.
He tilts his head slightly. "Really?" I nod. "You promise?"
"I promise." My heart picks up even more, but I know there's a little more anxiety in it this time.
Keeth's fingers slowly slide up on his grip on my hand until the rest on my wrist, on my pulse. It pounds against his fingertips and a slow smirk spreads across his face. "I love you, Colemet." And then he kisses me.
It shouldn't even be compared, but his kiss is different from Sate's. It's still right, still whole. Our lips move slowly over one another's as I close my eyes. We fall closer, closing the gap between us and melting into one another. It's like we were made for each other, we're a part of each other. Because we each have a part of one another that no one else has.
Keeth lets go of my hands and slides them onto my waist. I put my hands on his shoulders, which are muscular and angular under my fingertips. Keeth's hands rub my hips gently, moving around to the small of my back and clasping together, wrapping me up and pulling me close. I rub his shoulders gently, but my hands are shaky from nerves. He pauses our kiss momentarily. "Relax, Colemet..." he whispers. He kisses my lips, down to my jawline and then onto my neck. I tilt my head back so he can. He kisses all the way down to the hollow of my throat, then works his way back up. My stomach stirs and he rests his lips on the pulse of my neck. Mm...
Eventually it ends, and I'm left nearly speechless again.
"I love you, Colemet..."
My heart is wrenching in two different directions. But in this moment, it's wrenching towards Keeth.
"I...I love you too..."
"We're a team," he says quietly in my ear. "We'll always be okay. Even if nothing else is, we will be."
I know he's right.
