"Please, please don't leave me…Arthur, please…" a voice was heard. The owner of it is obviously sobbing or full on crying by now.
In that garden. The very same place where they met, where they became a couple and…now, where the parting they don't want to go through is right there. Not one of them have any choice. It was all fixed. One had to die, that was it. And clearly, Alfred, who the voice belongs to, is not the one to die. It is Arthur.
"Alfred…" muttered the brit. He is having a hard time speaking. His throat almost being constricted by the thick blood threatening to be coughed all out. The stab wound is on his stomach. It was deep and the liquid-giving life is seeping out of the wound. "Please, move…on…I can handle this…it's nothing….live…live to the fullest, poppet…I love…you" he said. He doubled over coughing out the color red.
Alfred couldn't bare looking at this all. Move on? It's nothing…? Live to the fullest!? No, he can't. He cannot see tomorrow without Arthur. He can't. He just can't. He was about to reply that he couldn't when he saw the contented smile he has. So serene, so at peace; so glad that he is in Alfred's arms. A hand gently caressed his cheek before it fell limply, like the eyes of the person Alfred had loved. Dead. Arthur is gone. He is never returning. There will no longer be any snide, sarcastic remarks. No more scones that taste bland on his taste buds. No longer can he hear that wonderful voice that can set his mind at ease wherever he felt something is about to go wrong. No longer can he see the green eyes filled with love, the love that mirrors his own blue eyes. Everything. His sun, his rain, his life and his lover. He's dead. No questions asked but he was given a parting, loving goodbye. He will no longer see him, hold him, and spend the rest of his life with… this fact, will be forever etched in his sad, lonely existence.
He wailed. He shouted. He threw desperate cries, calling for the heavens to return the person his whole life revolved into. He knew it was fruitless, so useless. But what can he do? There is no way Arthur is going back. He stared back at those lifeless, green eyes. Those eyes that showed beauty of forest and nature and the love he showered him. He wept.
"Arthur….Artie…why…? I don't want you to leave me…why…?" He cradled the male in his arms.
He looks up to the sky and finally noticed that the rain is falling. Gray clouds overcast the sky and rain seemed to have no signs of stopping. The sky lookedţ like it is crying with him, joining him in his sorrow, in his lost. Wht does it have to be them? In the midst of the war and argument, it was almost as if it was yesterday. All was a day before but no…it was almost finished, the war, that is. But…why? Just at the very last second, like it was some kind of revenge from the almost defeated enemy…his love is dead.
He closed the brit's eyes and hugged him. He hums the song that was sung to him before by his dead lover.
"…just close your eyes…..
the sun is going down…..
you'll be alright...
..no one can hurt you now...…" he bit his lips to stop the sobbing that he has. His grip tighten as the truth will remain in his mind.
In the loud pit patter of the rain, a small whisper of the last part of the song can be heard. All of the sorrow, loneliness of the person can be felt…
"…you and I'll be safe….and sound…"