"The Rain"
Raindrops stung Rolan's face as he ran from the castle and into the storm, frantically looking for his missing friend. He couldn't help but race to conclusions, and images of an injured Brandt flooded his mind. He imagined what it would be like if they never found him. Not only would his friends never forgive him, but he would never be able to forgive himself either.
The storm was strong enough to leave a thick layer of fog in every direction, which made it extremely difficult to see anything that he wasn't already standing on. Eventually he heard the familiar click of his shoes on a golden bridge, and while it was comforting to know that he wasn't going in circles, he was too worked up to be truly reassured.
Rolan ran off the bridge and past the stone centerpiece of the land, and continued to move forward. It wasn't long before he saw the back of someone who was sitting at the edge of the cliff, feet dangling over the side. Rolan let of a sigh of relief and slowly walked up to the boy's right.
Brandt's head was down, his hair serving as a curtain to shield his face from Rolan. A part of Rolan liked seeing him there—liked how the hero's gloved hands sunk into the purple flowers, the flowers that Rolan himself knew so well. He was not used to seeing someone else find solace in this place, yet alone someone he cared about.
After a moment of only the rain's voice, Rolan sat down next to his uncharacteristically quiet friend. Despite his relief in finding where Brandt was, it was replaced with a new worry—why was Brandt here? He still could not see Brandt's expression, and he realized that meant he would have to ask him.
There was another moment of unbearable silence, only to be broken by Rolan's wavering voice.
"Brandt?" He looked sideways at his silent friend, who said nothing in return.
Rolan tried again. "What are you doing here?"
Rolan's eyes widened as he heard a sniffle in return, and it dawned on him that Brandt was crying. Not audibly, but the sniffle said enough.
Rolan was at a loss on what to do. His people skills were tremendously lacking, and the more he looked at Brandt the harder it got to speak. There was a fluttering sensation in his stomach, and he tried to suppress it with a swallow.
"B-Brandt, if it was something I said, then I—"
"You didn't do anything." Brandt's voice was only a mumble, and his head still hung.
Rolan blinked.
"We shouldn't have come here."
Brandt's words felt like a punch in the stomach, and Rolan had no idea what to say. He just watched helplessly as Brandt let out another sniffle. He had never seen Brandt like this—usually his friend was outgoing and fun, the optimistic one of the group. And here was, crying silently in the rain.
A quiet thought whispered inside of Rolan, and his face turned a deep shade of red. He tried to ignore this new idea, but it only grew stronger and louder inside of him, stretching into such a powerful force that without thinking he leaned over and kissed Brandt on the cheek.
The kiss was light and soft, but the hero's cheek on Rolan's lips sent a burst of warmth throughout Rolan's heart, and he couldn't help but pull away very slowly.
While it was still raining, the storm had cooled off into a light sprinkle, and the fog rolled softly across their laps and down their legs.
Brandt lifted his head up towards the sky, and the tears on his face were replaced with streaks of rain running coolly down his newly pink cheeks.
Rolan's gaze lingered on Brandt, but then turned up to look at the same sky. The clouds were becoming a thin mask for the sun, and while some were still dark they all mingled with the newly golden ones.
They watched clouds part quietly together, until Brandt turned his head to smile at him. Rolan thought that the smile was almost unbearably beautiful, and there were no words he could find in return.
Brandt affectionately ruffled Rolan's hair, and smiled at him with his eyes closed. Rolan seemed stunned for a moment but then smiled softly back, and realized that he didn't need to say anything.
"Let's go eat!" Brandt abruptly stood up and held out his hand, suddenly back to his old self. While Rolan thought the whole thing was a little confusing, he happily placed his own hand in Brandt's, and let the young hero help him up.
The walk back to the castle was a quiet and calm one, and Rolan realized that he had never before felt as content as this.