Author's note: Second chapter! Thank you all who have spent time to read and special thanks to those who have taken the time to review; they really are a huge motivation for me to continue. I took the liberty to use a phrase that is the name of a story by mytyl-sensei at the end of this chapter. Mytyl-sensei, if you're out there reading this, I hope you are not offended; if you are, please tell me and I'll do something about it. Other than that, on with the show!
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Chapter 2: Necessity
'… And he scolded me for picking on someone new! Me! It was that rascal Manigoldo who started it first!'
'Kardia my friend, you did hide all his clothes, though.'
'I wouldn't have done that had he not told me I looked girly in my long hair!'
Dégel could not help but burst out laughing as the tips of Kardia's ears coloured in anger and embarrassment. The indignant expression he wore was only too comical not to ignite a spark of amusement in him. As he scowled upon his laughing, Kardia turned away with a loud harrumph and crossed his arms. Dégel had to laugh some more at that childish but so very endearing gesture. His laughter then died down into a gentle smile as he gazed on tenderly at the other man, who was still angry at himself for losing his temper. After that first day of conversation, they had been on friendly terms. Dégel gradually discovered that underneath the stern and initial courteous mask the other wore, he had a youthful soul, far more so than his own, in fact. His original suspicion of the other's passion for everything he did was proven true, the way he talked so heatedly about a simple topic, the way his eyes lit up on a particularly bright day, the way he laughed with exuberance as the wind swept Dégel's overgrown bangs into his eyes. Life flowed from the man sitting opposite him, and Dégel could not but feel himself being drawn deeper into the depth that was Kardia as each day passed by, with only them sitting at that small white washed café on those peaceful afternoons.
'The statement may not have been made with malice.'
'And yet, my friend, it was a case of volenti non fit injuria. Is that not what you have told me yourself? It was he who chose to insult me; there was implied consent for a war!' Kardia looked back at him, his eyes narrowed, though a trace of mirth was starting to creep into those blue depths. A ray of light his head in a halo, and Dégel smiled again as he saw the good mood returning to the other.
'You have a most admirable memory, though I do recall having said that Manigoldo may not have meant anything offensive when he said what he said.'
'Ah, you are the gentleman. Why argue with me?' Frustrated, Kardia finally huffed out loud and threw Dégel a flat look, which made him laugh all the more.
'Dégel.' The warning was clear in the man's voice, yet at the same time an indescribable feeling bubbled up inside him, to hear his name rolling from that man's tongue with a warmth he had never experienced. It had started the day after their first conversation, when Kardia had attempted to call him M. Leblanc. Dégel had blushed and insisted that it was only his father to whom that name was used to address; he was only Dégel to Kardia. The man had smiled, looking pleased at that. The first time he had called him by name, there was a strange glow in Kardia's voice, a lightness that suddenly made him seem even younger than he was. No one had thus addressed him before, in that particular familiar manner; not his father, nor his mother figure and half sister Seraphina, nor his half brother Unity. It had left a pleasant feeling of belonging in his heart. This, too, Dégel could get used to, to hear his name from this man every day. Dégel almost blushed at the thought.
'My sincere apologies, Kardia.' He turned to the man again, offering a biscuit as a token of peace.
'Not sincere, my dear Dégel, you are very much amused at my expense.' Kardia pointed out, but still took the biscuit from him with a smile. Their fingers touched in the lightest of way, yet in that brief moment a thousand feelings rushed through Dégel in a flash, leaving him trembling. As he drew his hand back, he silently berated himself for letting his mind be affected by such trivialities. Nonetheless, at the same time, an immense sense of well-being overcame him, and it was as if he was floating in a sea of happiness.
'You have a faraway look on your face. May I know what it is you are thinking about?' Kardia's voice brought him back to where he was, and Dégel suddenly found himself speechless as he all he could think was how perfect his life was. Yet he could not very well say that; it would have sounded most queer to the other.
'Pray forgive my inattentiveness. It was nothing of importance.'
Kardia looked displeased, but he did not push the issue. Instead, he chose to silently eat his biscuit, letting an ocean of light wash over him and his companion in the few minutes they had left of their little private rendezvous.
Dégel imagined he could hear the second hand in his watch ticking. Three, two, one, and then he would have to leave. All of a sudden he found himself entertaining an inexplicable fear. Three days before he had received an invitation to give a series of lectures at the university of another town, and had been directed to go on behalf of his university. It was an important task, one which he could not refuse. He realised that in normal circumstances he would have been very happy to go, for what better way to reorganise his knowledge than to give a lecture on the topic; knowledge should have been everything to him then. Yet the only reason he was reluctant was that he would have to spend a week away from town, which meant a week without those pauses in time that he had come to treasure. Dégel was a creature of habits, and frequenting that little café had become an integral part of his life. He had always been uneasy to break from those well-engraved routines, but this time it was absolutely different, for this time what he was feeling was not mere hesitation or inconvenience, but a deep feeling of dread that should he choose to break from this particular habit, he may not be able to get it back again. It was an irrational fear, one such as he had never experienced before. Then it dawned on him that what he was most afraid of was not the departure itself, for he was going to do it come what may, but the realisation that he was feeling more than he had ever felt, and the emotions were so violent he could barely contain them. The implications of that he dared not contemplate, but there was only one idea that dominated his mind, that once he had tasted all those emotions so foreign to his being, he may not go back to those peaceful quiet afternoons not so long ago again. The unknown terrified him, but so did the ready inferences he could draw from self-reflection. And Dégel did not know what was worse for him.
He took out his watch and noticed the minute hand had struck four, as it always did then. And so he looked up, only to catch Kardia looking back at him, his eyes unreadable. The awkward silence lasted for a second, then abruptly shattered as Kardia stood up.
'Well, I had better go back then.'
More out of an instinct than anything, Dégel reached out, but could not quite bring himself to grasp the retreating hand. His hand hovered in the air, dangling uselessly.
'Please wait.' He called. Kardia turned to look at him, his eyebrow arched.
'I only want to tell you that from tomorrow on I will not be able to come…'
'What? Is it because of something I have done? Did I offend you in some way?'
Dégel smiled at the palpable panic in the other's voice. It was satisfying to know that he was not the only one with irrational fears; that way, he could put one more problem in his mind to rest.
'No Kardia, it has been most pleasant to spend my spare time here. It is only that I must travel to another town to give a series of lectures. I shall be back in a week.'
'Then after a week you shall come back here again?' There was an almost imperceptible quiver in the man's voice that caught Dégel by surprise. A mixed feeling filled his chest, leaving him breathless for a fraction of a second, before he swallowed and nodded, the warmth inside never leaving.
'I see.' It had sounded like a sigh of relief, yet lost somewhere within his voice, Kardia had sounded a little disappointed, too. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he regarded Dégel again with that same unfathomable look he used when looking at him sometimes. His eyes seemed to reflect a deep conflict going on within his mind, one that rendered him unable to decide on how to act. Dégel returned his gaze and soon found himself lost in the abyss of blue that was his eyes. For a fleeting moment, he was uncertain whether he would want to find his way out after that.
'Bon voyage, then. I shall be waiting when the week is over.' It was not easy to break the spell. Dégel gazed at the outstretched hand blankly, before grasping it with more enthusiasm than he should. Like the first time they shook, their hands lingered, Dégel reluctant to leave the warmth running up his arm straight to his chest cavity. The calluses on the other's hand pressed into Dégel's tender but cold skin, and he smiled at the contrast and how perfect it all had felt. All too soon, they released and Kardia granted him one last brilliant smile in the faded colour of the afternoon light before retreating to his shop. A sense of loss claimed him as he stared at the broad retreating back, wondering what the other was thinking regarding this break from their routine.
As light poured over the café, Dégel sat, pondering ideas that came and went so quickly he never really grasped them. He painted a most queer picture in his mind, one in which colours were dancing and everything blurred and cleared even as he was distracted by other thoughts. His perpetually clear mind was muddled with thoughts he had never before entertained, and the whole situation had left him shaken and wondering, lost in the labyrinth of his own mind. But before long, he jolted. His head whipped up as he gawked at his surrounding with wild eyes, as if he had only woken from a disturbing dream. Looking down at his watch, Dégel allowed a deep frown to settle into the corner of his mouth. He stood up quickly and left.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Dégel twisted and turned on his bed, unable to sleep. It had only been one day away from town and he was already feeling something wrong. It had felt like someone had carved out a piece of his mind and hid it away, and that hidden piece must have been peace, for he had been restless for that whole day despite all his best efforts to close himself off to emotions in order to concentrate on delivering the lectures. It had very nearly been torture, the feeling of something missing never leaving him. Staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling, Dégel blamed himself for letting such trivialities interfere with his calm. He remembered back when his half sister Seraphina had passed away, he had been hurt so deeply it was virtually a scar on his young mind. She had been genteel and caring as the mother he never met, and the part of his childhood with her in it could only be described at sweet and joyful. Then death came, swiftly and silently. Dégel was too young at the time to comprehend much, yet the sight of her eyes closing for the last time impressed itself onto his immature soul as a burn from scalding iron. From that day on, he had learnt to distance himself from unnecessary emotions in order never to be hurt again, because when Dégel hurt, he did more than anyone else was capable of feeling; his sensitivity was astonishing even to himself sometimes. Life became as if it was a nightmare from which he could never wake up, for the empty feeling within his chest cavity ached with a tenacity that lasted for several years. Even then it never stopped hurting, but the ache became dull, like a physical defect that could not be removed. It was thus that Dégel taught himself how to become unfeeling and concentrate on reason alone, for reason could never hurt. Then he recalled that first day he had met Kardia and how everything sudden became foreign. It was a pure coincidence, that he had something to do on that day near the spot he had come to call his haven. As he stopped at that crossroad, he had caught sight of the man selling flowers in the small shop. Even amongst such radiant beauty, the man stood out in his masculinity. Life seemed to emit from him in a blinding aura, and the way he laughed had resembled so much euphoria that something inside Dégel twisted pleasantly. Dégel could not remember how long he had stood there staring, but when he suddenly reminded himself that he was probably being impolite, there was already a pair of impossibly blue eyes on him. Dégel had abruptly averted his eyes, his face burning and suddenly he found simply breathing became so very difficult. In that moment, it was as if everything had stopped moving, and everything he had ever known vanished. In his rush to get away from that spot, Dégel had almost tripped over his own feet twice, something he had stopped doing when he was two years old. When he got home, his face was still so red that the servants all asked if he was feeling unwell. The image of that strange man burnt itself into his retinas, so that that night, as he lay awake, much like he was lying awake right then, he needed only to close his eyes and the whole picture would reappear, as clear as if he was still standing there in the middle of a bright afternoon. The scene replayed in his mind over and over, reminding him of something warm that he could never remember. It had developed into an irresistible pull on him the next day, as he traced his steps to that quiet corner most people had missed. At two in the afternoon, he was standing in front of the café opposite the flower stand, too afraid to come nearer. A strange compulsion gripped him then, and Dégel, without hesitation, ordered for himself a coffee as he sat down at a terrace table and simply watched. There had been no contemplation of what he was doing then, for it was indeed the first time in a long while Dégel allowed himself to follow his instincts. It had been a beautiful day; the sun was sweet and the spot where he sat bathed in honeyed light. Dégel drew in a deep breath and imagined he could smell the fragrance of the many flowers he was surrounded by. The gentle scent was soothing enough that soon he started to find his shoulders relaxing as he sank deeper in his chair. It was then that Dégel saw the man approaching him. His heart had leapt to his throat and remained there even as the man ordered for himself a coffee. That was when it all started.
Dégel turned to pull the blanket more closely around himself. His trance had left him in a dream-like state, where he remained conscious yet incapable of controlling where his mind wandered, and the realisation of what he had been dreaming about left him suddenly cold. He reached up to his watch on the nightstand, flipped the case open and looked. It was only two in the morning. Dégel heaved a sigh and wondered why he never noticed the volatility of time till then.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
It was two in the afternoon and Dégel was in the middle of delivering the last of his lecturers. As light flooded in through the high windows of the lecture hall, he wondered why it looked somehow faded. There was no warmth to the sunlight that he could feel, even though he had to squint his eyes from the rays' brightness. He looked out at the window; the sky was an infinite blue canvas that was beckoning him. The azure colour reminded him of another shade of blue, much darker, yet similarly endless. He thought about the whiteness of walls that actually reflected a rainbow of colours from the hanging baskets full of flowers and how they seemed to radiate a familiarity much like home, though his house was nothing like that. Even if he did not know it, the initial longing had developed into a deep ache in his chest every time he looked at the sky. It looked like wind from the north that day; the weather was getting cooler by the day and even Dégel himself had taken a light coat with him, fond of the cold as he was. The sight of rolled up sleeves flashed through his mind and Dégel suddenly remembered a particularly handsome scarf he had seen in the market nearby. That would have made a splendid present. Kardia should have worn a coat; he seemed not to care much about his own health. He remembered last spring, when the air was still quite chilly, the other man had already come out in only his customary shirt and waistcoat. He was shivering slightly, Dégel had noted, yet at that time they had not been in a position where they talked about each other's well-being and health, and so they had left it at that. Yes, the scarf would have been a most suitable gift, indeed. Dégel smiled as he imagined the other man wearing the wine coloured scarf, his dark curls twining around the fabric in layers as the colour contrast accentuated his smile.
'Uh, sir?' A voice from the general audience startled Dégel out of his reverie. He did not notice he had been trailing off in the middle of a sentence as he gazed out at the window, and act most uncharacteristic of him to do. Coughing and suddenly feeling his cheeks heating in embarrassment, he returned to the black board, all the while thousands of thoughts berating himself rushed through his mind.
'My apologies. Let us pick up where I have left off.'
The last night was going to be longer than all eternity, Dégel knew and that he could not do a thing about it.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
As Dégel hurried out of the carriage, he was surprised when the household's butler came out to greet him, his face white as a sheet.
'Young master Dégel, welcome back.'
'Good day. Is there something wrong? You look very pale.'
As if he had been waiting for the question, the old man replied with haste: 'I am well, thank you very much. However, the young master Unity is ill.'
'What? What happened? Where is he?' Dégel asked quickly, feeling his heart rate speeding at the bad news. Unity was only his half brother, yet the two remained close to each other with a bond not even full brothers had. The image of his sister Seraphina's closing eyes appeared in his mind, and Dégel felt panic rising within him.
'It is nothing life-threatening, sir, only a light case of pneumonia, yet the young master has been suffering. I have not dared to leave his side for these past three days. But he is recovering, I believe.'
Dégel breathed out a sigh of relief at that, yet the worry would not leave him. Unity was, much like his sister Seraphina, physically frail. He had had chickenpox as a child, and numerous cases of cold ever since his birth. Seraphina herself had died of pneumonia, after a walk in the nearby woods when she was stranded in the rain. The thought sent a chill down Dégel's spine.
'Come, I want to see him. And you have been tired; go back to your room and rest. I shall tend to Unity.'
'Yes, thank you, young master.' The old man averted his eyes, looking glad at the permission to retire.
Dégel walked hastily through the long dark corridor separating the main hall and Unity's room. The flickering candles threw dancing shadows on the damask-covered walls. They looked ominous, Dégel noted to himself, but refrained from letting unreasonable fears take hold of him. At the end of the corridor, an oak door loomed heavily in the dark.
'Unity?' He knocked and called, before entering the room. In stark contrast to the dark outside, the room was brightly lit by dozens of candles. The maid standing next to the door bowed to him, before being dismissed. As he approached the bed, Dégel saw his brother already awake and looking back at him with gleaming eyes, a pile of pillows supporting him.
'Welcome home, brother.' He smiled weakly, then immediately coughed. Dégel bolted to the bed, his hand instantly on his brother's shaking back. The sound of the cough did not sound good to his ears – it was too wet for Unity to be healthy yet, but at least he was recovering.
'Do not talk, Unity; you are unwell. Come, lie down. I will get you some water.'
'Ah, I am fine, really. Do not worry yourself; I shall be able to go on horseback in a week; you will see.'
'Indeed, but now you are still weak and recovering.' Dégel frowned at his brother's stubbornness. He waited for the coughing fit to subside, before pushing him back down onto the pillow and pulling the quilt to cover him till the chin. 'How did you contract pneumonia this time?'
A sheepish smile appeared on his brother's deathly pale countenance, yet despite the pallor, utter happiness shone through his sparkling eyes. He looked like a child receiving his favourite toy on Christmas, and Dégel could not but smile at his brother's apparent affection for him.
'It has been raining dreadfully since you left, you know; there was even a hailstorm, peculiar as it is. Then the next day it all cleared up. I only thought to take a brief walk across the woodland behind our estate; it was such a nice day after that awful weather, you see. I never expected that it would rain again. And then the weather became beautiful again the day I fell ill. I would have thought it some sort of joke had it not been me being forced to burry myself under a mountain of blankets and pillows.'
Dégel shook his head at the recount. It was far too similar to Seraphina's case for his comfort. Yet even before he could say anything, as if sensing his thoughts, Unity had laughed lightly.
'Do not wear that mournful look, dear brother. I promise you I will be well again soon; nothing bad is going to happen to me.' He paused, his voice turning hopeful, 'But will you stay with me till then?'
He had sounded like a child again. Dégel recalled fondly of the times he had to take care of Unity in their childhood; the boy had always been attached to him as a puppy its master. He had never denied his brother anything then, for his requests were always simply to stay with him till his fever alleviated or only till he fell asleep, and could not imagine himself changing now.
'Of course, brother.'
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
It was thus that another two days passed by. On the first day that Dégel was back, he had not quite remembered what it was that was missing, yet there was a vague idea persistently plaguing his mind. At some point near two o'clock that day, he had suddenly stopped talking in the middle of the story he was relating to Unity, stood up and walked out much to the astonishment of the other. It was only when Unity had called him back that he came to himself and realised what he was going to do. A sudden surge of longing hit him as a physical assault, almost making him stagger. He had turned and asked his brother if he could go out for a little while.
'I am sorry; it must be boring sitting with me here for the whole day. Please, brother, do not let me delay you. Go where you must.'
The look of pure dismay on his face tugged at a string in Dégel's heart. He recalled how easily his brother could become depressed were he to be left alone while ill. Often times he would try to crawl out of his bed into the drawing room despite his physical ailment. He had looked so pitiful then, supporting himself on the nearest piece of furniture yet still insisting that he would be alright on his own even while sweat was running in streams down his pallid countenance. The other longing was still there, unrelentingly pulling at his whole body as a tentacle its prey, and how it hurt him not to be able to just move away and disappear down the sun kissed lane, into that little corner of flowers and aroma. Nonetheless, Dégel closed the door behind him and returned to the bed.
'I apologise for my selfishness. It is you who needs me now, so shall I not stay and finish my story?'
Dégel offered his brother a smile even as he felt his facial muscles moved uncomfortably. His expression must have looked awkward, for Unity started laughing again. He had tried to make Dégel go after that, but the sheer glow of contentment emitting from his brother had nailed Dégel to his seat as surely as if he had been glued there physically. Even though the tugging had became a void that seemed to carve at his insides, Dégel ignored the numbing ache it was causing him. As the story drifted into silence at last as Unity fell asleep, Dégel allowed his mind to wander back to that place. Surely Kardia would not miss him as Unity had missed him, for what was he to the other man anyway? The other way round should hold true, too, he thought, yet in the end could not quite bring himself to believe his own lies. The mere possibility that the other might be looking for him when the week had passed was enough to make him want to break something; there was a weight on his chest that he could not lift. When he did not have to entertain his brother anymore, he started feeling immensely anxious. It was an indescribable feeling of an unpleasant sort that held his mind captive even as he tried to think about other things. It was altogether different from the sense of pure impatience during the week he was away, now that he knew there was a probability of someone who should not be important but was much more so than he ever expected waiting for him. The mere idea of disappointing that man left Dégel breathless, feeling like he was sitting on rocks and thorns and being forced to swallow an icicle. For countless times had he entertained the idea of quickly getting up and going to see Kardia; surely he could make it back before Unity woke up? Yet each and every time the thought crossed his mind, he persistently pushed it away by imagining his brother's reaction when he woke and and not see him there. It had happened once before; Unity had been so very frightened when he had returned, bringing him his medicines. The child had clung to him crying, whispering over and over again that he did not want Dégel to leave; his mother and Seraphina had been enough for his entire life – the impression was simply too great on his young mind then. Dégel was struck by a sense of self-despise every time he thought of leaving. His brother, though too weak and feminine on every standard, needed him to stay, if only when he was ill. How base would it be for him to leave his blood who was in such desperate need only to alleviate discomfort to himself? But then it was as if there was a vortex of blames going in circles within the maze that was his mind, for immediately after that, a vivid image of a man with midnight coloured hair would invade his inner sanctum, the disappointment in his bottomless eyes procuring a fresh wave of guilt upon his internal conflict. Dégel felt like tearing his hair out as he sat gazing out at the window, helpless to do anything to alleviate his plight.
The next day, as he was preparing to go out, Dégel heard a crash and some muffled expletives behind his back. When he turned around, he was greeted with the sight of his brother, who was still only in his sleep shirt, buried under a pile of books. The other must have attempted to get out of bed to find a book to read while Dégel was out. It was thus that Dégel spent the next day home, tending to his brother's every need, instead of going out to satisfy his own. The dinner that very same night, Dégel had broken a flute of champagne through negligence as he gripped it much more tightly than intended, cutting his own hand in the process. The servants all panicked and tended to his wound, though no one knew why he wore that look of absolute pain and torture as the cut was dabbed with alcohol – Dégel was a cold man who never showed his emotions, be it pain or concern or pleasure. It was a fleeting look, but those who saw it had it impressed in their eyes, for never before had they seen such a sight. A moment later, though, Dégel had schooled his expression into one of indifference; only, he had often glanced at his bandaged hand, his eyes unreadable. He spent the whole night in his study, bathing in the roaring fire at the fireplace and eyes somewhere faraway, a vaguely tender expression lingering on his countenance. The book held in his hand was never so much as looked at.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
As Dégel ran as fast as his feet would carry him on the sunlit avenue, a package held tightly in his sweaty palm, the early morning chill numbed his delicate complexion without his noticing it even though his cheeks were red and raw from the wind. The time did not matter anymore to him; right then all he could care about was to get there as soon as possible. His single-mindedness in the task frightened him, for never before had he been unable to control his actions as he did then. All the same, it did not matter. Streets passed by followed by more familiar streets, and as he drew near the corner with the café and the flower stand, Dégel could feel himself getting out of breath and his heart hammering against his ribcage at the same time. For a passing moment, he had wondered how good it would be if he could just pass out right there, in front of the flower shop, if only to see the other's expression. He imagined it would have been most gratifying, but dared not continue that train of thought. Three, two, one, his steps slowed to a halt as he stopped at the crossroad where he first laid eye on the other man. His heart leapt, just as it had leapt the first time they met, as he saw Kardia preparing to open his shop, surrounded by fresh flowers that glinted off the early light reflecting on the lingering drops of dew, covering the man in a sort of ethereal halo. Dégel squinted his eyes at the too bright reflections and saw the outlines of Kardia's body blurring. A sudden fear gripped him in an ice ring as Dégel stood rooted to his spot, eyes never leaving the man even for the slightest of moment. His head started swimming from lack of air, for he had been barely breathing at the sight; so much emotions were rushing through him all at once he fancied he should have burst.
Kardia looked up from what he was doing to catch sight of someone standing there, a distance from him, wide eyes fixed on himself, as though the other could not believe what he was seeing. He stared back and saw how the early light was moving swiftly to reach the crown of the other's dark head, putting emphasis on his ruddy cheeks and wild eyes.
The staring was broken in a moment when Dégel started a brisk walk towards him, hand extending.
'Kardia.'
There was a flood of emotions in the simple name, as if a dam somewhere inside him had shattered. All of a sudden, Dégel was startled when his hand was grasped in an iron grip and he was pulled forward none too gently into a solid embrace. For a fraction of a second, his mind blanked, before it occurred to him that he was being held by the other man, his arms captive at his side as strong arms tightened on his back. His heart had stopped beating altogether in that split second, before doubling its speed, sending a wave of light-headedness through him.
'Dégel. Dégel! It had been more than a week, and I thought you would not come anymore! You are back, really back!'
The man's voice was as breathy as he imagined himself to be, the whisper of 'you are back' was repeated into his mane of hair over and over again, until it bled into his heart in a trickle so warm it made him shudder. Suddenly he had felt like crying as he reluctantly hugged the other back. His arms had been lax and awkward at the beginning, yet as he tightened his embrace until he could not anymore, it was as if everything was falling into place until everything was right with the world again. It felt like he was home.
'I am back.' Dégel almost choked into the strands of midnight coloured hair of the man, a sense of euphoria slowly filling every pore of his being. It seemed to him as though the period of suffering never occurred in the first place; all he could currently concentrate on was the sheer intensity of the fullness within himself, that which warmed him up and made him feel as if he was floating in a downy cloud of peace and contentment.
They stood swaying on the spot, as if dancing to a soundless tune, slow and slow they went, for an eternity that lasted only a few minutes. It might have looked odd, yet at the time, they neither understood it nor cared about what it was they were experiencing. Much later on, when Dégel reflected on the whole situation, he would realise that they must have seemed like a pair of old lovers who had not seen each other for all eternity, and that what he felt at the time was exactly what it seemed like. When they parted in the end, Dégel had felt a piece of him taken away along with the surrounding warmth, even as the sense of well-being stayed behind, procuring the first genuine smile he had had since the week. Slowly, carefully, Kardia laid a calloused hand on his face, sending blood instantly to his colouring cheeks.
'You are freezing. Come, let us sit inside this time. You can tell me about your week.'
The numbness on his face prevented him from feeling the other's hand, but all the same, heat rushed to his head when he looked into the depth that was Kardia's startling eyes that were gazing back at him with barely contained emotions, all so very violently and passionately transmitted. The blush became something else even as the cold receded and something within him quivered, uncertain as to what to feel. But all too soon, the hand fell away, leaving behind a blazing trail when his thumb glided across his cheek in a sort of caress that was not quite, as if a line had been drawn on his face in red hot iron. Dégel could not decide whether it was relief or disappointment he felt at the lift of the invisible spell binding him in place. It was the most natural thing he had ever done, then, to walk back to their little white washed café, elbows touching, eyes constantly stealing glances and smiles on their lips.
Once they were inside, Dégel's glasses instantly fogged up, forcing him to take them off in dismay. At the same time, he missed the way the other was gazing at him, completely dumbstruck, before turning quickly to order coffees for themselves. They pulled out chairs opposite each other and sat quietly, before Dégel slid the package across the table towards the other man, an almost timid smile in place.
'For you, Kardia. I thought it might look good on you…' He trailed off at the end, not knowing what else to say. It had come out somehow intimate, the whole weight of the situation striking him fully for the first time. He averted his eyes, not daring to look at the other's reaction. Utter embarrassment overcame him even more as another hand grasped his before he could draw his own back in the most fleeting of moments. He snatched his hand back as if electrocuted before noticing what he was doing. Then it suddenly struck him that he may have been rude to the other man. Dégel looked up just in time to see an unfathomable look directed at him, before Kardia lowered his eyes. The smile that came right after seemed almost sad it made Dégel want to apologise despite not knowing what to say. He opened and closed his mouth silently at last, opting for the awkward silence that ensued.
'Thank you, though you really should not have bothered.' Dégel breathed a sigh of relief when Kardia decided to save the moment by thanking him, a small unreadable smile still present on his lips. As he opened the package, a peculiar sense of expectation washed over him. Unconsciously, Dégel bit his lips.
'Don't do that, Dégel. You might bite it off, you know.' Kardia had jokingly said, amusement flashing through his eyes. But before Dégel could reply, he had pulled out the wine coloured scarf with a look akin to wonder on his countenance. 'It is beautiful.' He breathed, hands gliding over the fabric in a manner akin to caress that induced thoughts within Dégel's mind that made him coloured even more, cursing himself for vulgarity. 'Thank you.'
'You are very welcome. I only thought it would have suited you, such a handsome scarf.' Dégel released a breath he did not know he was holding. He looked up at the radiant smile the other was directing at him, letting himself, if only for that one moment, captured again by the other's intense gaze that spoke what a thousand words would not convey.
'I missed you.'
The words floated by as a breeze on a humid summer day, yet striking something deep within himself he never knew he had. Dégel gasped even as the other man looked at him determinedly, his eyes burning with something Dégel thought he knew but dared not bring himself to name, for he was too afraid. What if they could not go back to all that was before? What then? Dégel was not certain he could survive, now that he had learnt the inevitability of breathing.
To be continued…
