Chapter 18

Same here concerning the messages:

Gunter's are written in italic letters, Gwendal's are bold.

Song of this Chapter: Donots – Calling.

The next day, no message came. Gwendal waited for the carrier pigeon all day, but when the sun had reached its peak, he knew it wouldn't come.

The perception hit him hard, for he hadn't thought it would pull him down that much, if Gunter wasn't writing for one day. He couldn't believe it.

Maybe something was prevented him from answering.

Maybe he didn't want to answer.

Maybe he didn't know what to answer.

Maybe the pigeon had gotten lost.

Maybe...

So much things could have happened.

And that was the point that freaked him out. There he stood, having made a very personal statement, well - almost a confession, and waiting for the answer he was... so much excited about – and now, this happened. Gwendal felt like being fooled around with, by fate or his feelings or whatever, and this was getting him increasingly angry and frustrated.

Gunter will feel similar, though at the same time in a different way.

Gwendal had experienced too many sleepless nights over the past weeks. He had already come to the conclusion that the adjutant's behavior had nothing to do with handling his feelings for a „crush" anymore. He guessed that there was more and of course he wanted to know it clearly. The general simply wondered how he could ask Gunter about it.

The next point was: wasn't it better not to know? His conscious was already hunting him, so how would he feel if his old friend would really... - he didn't want to think about it.

The dark-haired mazoku shook his head, attempting to get it clear that way.

It didn't help. At all.

The sun was warm out there and a mild spring breeze was blowing through the blooming flowers. He decided to go outside, to his most favorite place down under the old oak tree on the hilltop.

Maybe that would help.

Another sleepless night. And another morning without the pigeon.

Gwendal wondered even more what had happened. Had Gunter decided to not write to him any more? The thought just made him feel even more frustrated. He always wanted to know where he stood, he hated it to be left hanging in the air.

On the other hand, wasn't that what he had done to Gunter?

No, I clearly told him that I can't return his affection, and that was just fair.

Though, wasn't writing those messages maybe raising the other one's hopes for the wrong reasons?

The general buried his face in his hands. Why did love always tend to be that complicated?

The next morning, Gwendal was up even earlier than he thought, though he hadn't slept much because he had been falling asleep very late.

His heart skipped a beat as he entered his office and finally saw the small, gray-feathered bird again outside the window.

With stiff fingers, he unrolled the paper.

I'm sorry for not writing the days before. We had to track down some thiefes who had robbed a few villagers. But we were successful. Now everything is finally back to normal.

And I almost thought you wouldn't talk – or, in this case, write – to me any more.

Of course I do. Though I would enjoy talking to you right now a lot better. We have a lot to make up when I'm back home.

Yes, we do indeed. Does that mean you'll be talking to me again?

Kind of. I never said when that will happen. I mean, that I'm coming home.

Indeed, again. Don't rush things, though I would also enjoy your company right now. I remember plenty of very long, very interesting conversations with you.

And I look forward to one of those, hopefully soon. But we'll see. We've always been friends and I hope this remains, no matter what happens.

I never thought differently. It's a horrible thought to think of losing you. It's hard enough the way it is now.

Gwendal sat down in his chair. Every morning, he had answered the messages. Sometimes brooding over every single word, but most of the time the letters found their way onto the page easily. So had this last one.

When the pigeon was already away, he finally noticed what he had written there. A vibrating, fluttering feeling was spreading in his stomach. He recognized it as excitement – he wanted to know how Gunter would react, of course – and something else, a very certain feeling, that he didn't want to name.

He knew that if he did, it would become real.

If I may ask you something – and you don't need to answer if you don't want to – are you missing me, then?

Don't get me wrong, but - yes. I miss your company, the conversations, the afternoon tea. See me shaking my head right now at writing cheesy things like that.

It's always the afternoon tea, right?

[Oh, Gwendal could imagine the giggle of the other one at this point very well.]

I could tell you more things that I miss about you.

Go ahead.

You sure?

I wouldn't have asked you if I wouldn't be.

Okay. You wanted it to hear. I miss hearing your voice, I miss the way you rub the bridge of your nose when you are pondering about something, I miss the way you frown, sometimes soft, sometimes very gruffy, I miss laughing with you, because your laughter is something rarely heard and therefore very special, I miss the way you grin, the way you talk to me, even when you're angry, because that's all that makes you. I miss you. There you have it, and that's what I call cheesy.

Gwendal sat at his desk, completely speechless at the – confession? - he held in his hands. He leaned back into his chair and read the message over and over. How was he supposed to react to this? Well, it was his own fault, he had wanted to know. Now he knew but that only made things worse. He should have known that as well.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. Now it's too late.

But somehow, he also felt kind of... honored... at this. Gunter cared about him. Like, really. And it wasn't like he didn't apprechiate that.

There was still that flustered feeling in his chest, which felt tightened whenever he read one of those small pieces of paper or whenever he thought about Gunter.

He cursed himself loudly for the next message. He felt like being way to rude.

I see... and you still call that a „crush"?

I called it that way before, yes. But I know well enough by now that it's indeed more than that. And it gets worse every day... At this rate I won't be able to return to Blood Pledge Castle that soon.

What do you mean „it gets worse"?

Exactly what it says on the tin. Though you're not here, I feel like falling for you every day a little more.

Wow... okay. I'm sorry for not being able to say any more. I know you would like to hear just some kind of reaction of mine at this but... I have to disappoint you, I can't.

By the way, Conrad and Yuri are back from their honeymoon, so the castle isn't that quiet and empty any more.

I see... how are they doing?

Guess.

All lovey-dovey, almost annoying, all the time?

Yes, very.

Isn't that kind of hard to see for you? I mean, can you tell me when you had your last relationship?

I have no clue, seriously. It's been a while and I never thought about it, until recently. But well, I am happy for the two of them.

You avoided my question. Don't you miss loving and caring for someone?

Sure, sometimes. Do you?

How am I supposed to answer that question?

As you wish. Tell me.

No, I don't miss it. I have someone I love and I care for, and that is you. Don't ask me when that started – I mean, my feelings changing from a very close friendship to love. But it's just like that, I love you. You are my first thought in the morning and my last in the evening. When I dream, I dream about you, and when I'm laying insomnically in my bed, I wish for you to be here. Which happens way too often lately. Satisfied?

Gwendal was stunned by the words on the sheet in front of him. He had said it. Gunter said that he loved him. But if he called that love... „first thought in the morning, last in the evening, dreaming about you" and so on – then he had to be in love with Gunter as well, because those things happened to him the same way.

He was scared.

So far for this chapter. Hope you liked it, and please review, as always! :)