He lay motionless on the ground for what felt like days, but finally, thirst forced him to move. With slow, heavy steps, he walked back into town, taking a left instead of a right at the sight of his hotel, arriving in the alley behind it. On the ground, still tainted by Sands' blood, was a trampled dandelion. El knelt beside it, picking it up, straightening the wrinkled petals. Holding it up to the sun, gently grasping it with two fingers, he twirled it around, and it was almost as if it reflected the very rays, glowing with an ethereal fire, sending shivers down El's spine. He took it back to the room with him, and put it between the covers of an old Bible he had found in one of the drawers of his dresser. When the day of the funeral came, he brought it to place in Sands' hands, and it followed him down, the only thing still bright and alive, as he was lowered into the ground.
The candle suddenly flickered, and went out. The curtains billowed as the wind grew stronger, and El, shuddering, rose from his bed to shut the window. He left a small gap to let in some fresh air, and a fraction of moonlight to illuminate the room, as he didn't have any more candles. Turning back towards the bed, preparing to lie down again, he froze, mid-movement.
A bright yellow dandelion on his pillow.
Carefully, minding his step, as if afraid he might scare it away, he approached the bed, and stared at the small flower. Picking it up, nipping it gently around the waist with two fingers, he held it close to his face and breathed in the scent of summer, the scent of green grass, and the indistinct scent of...something else, something vaguely familiar, that made some dark part within him stir. Closing his eyes, he let the scent engulf him, and it was all suddenly clear as day.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Soft tickles of breath across the back of his neck.
"Yes."
A barely audible murmur in the dark.
"I told you I'd come."
Pale fingers caressing his jawline.
"I know."
"Are you ready then?"
A cool forehead resting against his shoulder.
"...Yes."
El stood in silence, holding the dandelion between his thumb and forefinger. He could feel Sands looking over his shoulder, but when he turned around, the other man was further away, motioning El towards him.
"Come on."
Beautiful brown eyes where there had before been none: beckoning, soothing, loving.
"Take my hand."
Reaching underneath his pillow for the gun, sliding it out, and weighing it in his hand, El rose from the bed and walked up to the window. Looking out at the still empty street, glowing in the dawning light, his eyes burning with a strange fire, he made up his mind. Drawing the curtains, he stepped away from the ray of light seeping into the room through the small gap.
"Come on...what are you waiting for?"
He looked at the gun, turning it, examining it at close range, twirling it, aiming it at nothing in particular. If Sands had really been there, he would have tried to take it from him, and then playfully pointed it at his head, only to have it drift downwards to caress, with its deadly metal breath, his cheek, his chin, his neck, his chest...Almost as if in a dream, his hand rose, and reached a point where it steadied.
El stood in the center of the room, barrel of the gun pressed firmly against his temple. He hesitated for a moment, looking around him, letting his eyes roam over the only things he had left, the inanimate objects he held dearer than anything or anyone alive. Then, eyes wide open, looking straight ahead, he pulled the trigger. After the initial blinding flash of light, the darkness was definite.
"I thought you'd never come."
El smiled. The gun fell clattering to the floor, followed by a heavy thud, and a last jingle. The yellow dandelion floated softly through the air, and landed next to his head.
And all was calm.
The candle suddenly flickered, and went out. The curtains billowed as the wind grew stronger, and El, shuddering, rose from his bed to shut the window. He left a small gap to let in some fresh air, and a fraction of moonlight to illuminate the room, as he didn't have any more candles. Turning back towards the bed, preparing to lie down again, he froze, mid-movement.
A bright yellow dandelion on his pillow.
Carefully, minding his step, as if afraid he might scare it away, he approached the bed, and stared at the small flower. Picking it up, nipping it gently around the waist with two fingers, he held it close to his face and breathed in the scent of summer, the scent of green grass, and the indistinct scent of...something else, something vaguely familiar, that made some dark part within him stir. Closing his eyes, he let the scent engulf him, and it was all suddenly clear as day.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Soft tickles of breath across the back of his neck.
"Yes."
A barely audible murmur in the dark.
"I told you I'd come."
Pale fingers caressing his jawline.
"I know."
"Are you ready then?"
A cool forehead resting against his shoulder.
"...Yes."
El stood in silence, holding the dandelion between his thumb and forefinger. He could feel Sands looking over his shoulder, but when he turned around, the other man was further away, motioning El towards him.
"Come on."
Beautiful brown eyes where there had before been none: beckoning, soothing, loving.
"Take my hand."
Reaching underneath his pillow for the gun, sliding it out, and weighing it in his hand, El rose from the bed and walked up to the window. Looking out at the still empty street, glowing in the dawning light, his eyes burning with a strange fire, he made up his mind. Drawing the curtains, he stepped away from the ray of light seeping into the room through the small gap.
"Come on...what are you waiting for?"
He looked at the gun, turning it, examining it at close range, twirling it, aiming it at nothing in particular. If Sands had really been there, he would have tried to take it from him, and then playfully pointed it at his head, only to have it drift downwards to caress, with its deadly metal breath, his cheek, his chin, his neck, his chest...Almost as if in a dream, his hand rose, and reached a point where it steadied.
El stood in the center of the room, barrel of the gun pressed firmly against his temple. He hesitated for a moment, looking around him, letting his eyes roam over the only things he had left, the inanimate objects he held dearer than anything or anyone alive. Then, eyes wide open, looking straight ahead, he pulled the trigger. After the initial blinding flash of light, the darkness was definite.
"I thought you'd never come."
El smiled. The gun fell clattering to the floor, followed by a heavy thud, and a last jingle. The yellow dandelion floated softly through the air, and landed next to his head.
And all was calm.