His fingers trailed down the oaken banister as he skipped steps, almost slipping on the last few, barely clinging on for his balance. He refused to slow down; he was determined to see his plan through to the end, whether sweet or bitter. He could feel the clip, tight and heavy at the side of his head. He had lost all hope and when he had reached the bottom, lying on his back on the bed of the deep pool he had fallen into and was unable to swim out of, some part of the memories attached to the metal pin, some sort of sentimental value, grasped his wrist and dragged him up, gasping for air.

He skidded on the corridor floor in his hurry, grasping the door frame and swinging himself in, determination set in his dark eyes, a light, the first light in a while, reflected in them, almost like a lone star.

Mathias was sitting in one of the arm chairs, head rested on the palm of his hand propped up on one of the arm rests. The tv was on, buzzing softly in the background, however, even though his eyes were on the screen, he was not watching it, barely staring at the moving images blankly, lost in thought. His face was scrunched up in a frown, which disappeared as his eyes flicked to Lukas, a smile on his lips which didn't reach his eyes.

"You're wearing the clip."

Lukas felt his heart race dangerously in his chest, his hand subconsciously reaching up, touching the cool metal. He nodded momentarily, before dropping his arm, eyes on Mathias' face, taking in his features: the shape of his jaw; big, wide sky-blue eyes; freckles sprinkled around his face, adorning it. He took a deep breath, taking a few steps forward. His face was higher than the Dane's, making the older of the two tilt his head up to look at him, not dropping that fake, discomforting smile.

Wordlessly, Lukas took his hand, at which the Dane cocked a brow, inquisitive. He pulled him up, silent, not saying a word. He led him outside, leaving the backdoor ajar as they walked through. He felt Mathias' gaze on the back of his head as they entered their miniature forest, pulling him down onto the soft grass, slightly damp with dew. He looked at the other's face then, meeting his confused eyes with his own, hopeful ones. Mathias broke the gaze first, looking up at the crowns of the trees then back in the direction of the house, his head gently turning back to the form sitting beside him. A melody made up of words he more or less understood escaped the other's pale lips, dark blue eyes closed, pale lashes leaving shadows on his cheeks.

La dagen få sin hvile nå
Og natten vil våke for den
Nocturne

Selv mørket må en gang forgå
Så natten kan føde en dag

He finished his song, eyes once more fluttering open, resting gently on the other's face, an expression of bewilderment embellished on it. He parted his lips in a sigh, pulling back a strand of hair that had gotten loose from the hairpin's grip.

He stood up again, pulling Mathias up with him, this time leading him up the stairs and into his room. The man was confused to the point he almost voiced his uncertainty, but instead sat down on the bed, watching him with a pitiful gaze, almost as if the Norwegian had gone insane.

He himself however reached into the wardrobe, taking out the old instrument, blowing a layer of dust off the wood and tuning it, cringing at how badly out of tune it was. Satisfied, he sat beside him, resting his chin on the chinrest, hand immediately remembering how to hold the bow. He played, Mathias' gentle eyes tracing each movement he made, a dolorous expression again upon his features.

He kissed the wood before laying it in his lap, any walls he had had up toppled, lips quivering, fighting the tears that had been left unshed.

"Do you... do you remember?" He asked, his voice weak, faltering.

Mathias took an unsteady breath, shaking his head. "No," he whispered, "I don't."

The wet warmth fell softly, soundlessly down his face, reaching his pale lips, curled up at the corners in a sad, hopeless smile. He fell back, placing the violin on the bedding beside him, covering his eyes with his arm, that smile quaking.

"I.. I thought," he chocked, taking a deep intake of breath, "That I could trigger your memory. That if I could remind you maybe..." he trailed off, his chest heaving as more tears fell, eyes still covered, unable to see the other, the smile fully gone, choked sobs escaping his lips. He could feel movement beside him and looked out from his behind his shield for a second, his eyes met by Mathias' own, now lying on the mattress beside him, shadowed by his furrowed brow.

"You care so much," he whispered, keeping the gaze, "For me. Why?" The last part was more to himself but Lukas still answered it, his reply a muffle that he could not register. He voiced his confusion, at which Lukas dropped his arm, looking straight at him with reddened eyes, tears streaked down his features.

"Because I love you. I love you and it hurts, so, so much," he choked, screwing up his face, breathing in deeply once more, vaguely aware of the stifled Dane beside him, looking at him wide-eyed, lips gaping. He blinked a few times, sitting up with a little delayed reaction after Lukas had done so, the Norwegian rubbing his face with the sleeves of his sweater, burying his face in them.

Nothing moved for a few seconds, not the wind outside, not one of the two who sat on the bed that day in mid-May. Then, slowly, Lukas felt arms snake their way around his waist, pulling him back, lips tracing the nape of his neck. He could feel the breath on his skin, and the heart beating behind him, both trembly much like his own. He dared glance back, his vision mildly obscured by remaining tears but he knew what he saw. His gut wrenched, his heart fluttered.

Lukas' eyes met his, saw the shine in them joint with fresh tears now beginning to fall, saw the crinkles on his forehead and in the corners of his eyes, both attributes to that beautiful smile filling his lips that took his breath away.

Mathias closed his eyes, resting his forehead on Lukas' back, releasing a long sigh, never releasing his hold on the other, as if he were some dream that he did not wish to wake up from, and, in turn, Lukas' hands clasped around his, scared to blink in case that if he did he himself would discover this was just a fantasy.

"Do you mean it," Mathias asked softly, barely above a whisper.

He nodded, replying with equal gentleness. "I do."

Mathias shifted, releasing his grip to allow Lukas to turn around and look at him, both lost for words. They didn't need to say anything else.

Lukas collapsed onto him, head resting in the crook of his neck where he could hear his heart, racing in time to his own. They stayed in silence, with Mathias stroking his hair before he broke it again.

"You remember."

"Yeah," he spoke softly, "I do." He looked down at Lukas arms then, carefully rolling up the sleeve of one and caressing the scarred skin with his thumb, melancholic.

"Sadness doesn't suit you," Lukas said, eyes on the motion. He glanced up, smiling softly, earning a smile back.

"I'm sorry. I'd have come back sooner, if I-"

Lukas never found out what would have made him come back sooner for in that moment, without a second thought, he jerked forward, meeting his lips with his own, wet from crying, Mathias stiffening for the shortest of moments, before relaxing, pulling Lukas closer as the Norwegian wrapped his arms around his neck, entwining his fingers with his messy blonde hair.

They parted for air, their noses touching, looking into each other's eyes like it was the first time, and, in a sense, it was. Mathias' white-toothed, lop-sided smile grew and Lukas' more timid smile followed in tow.

"About time, right?" Mathias said in the same manner as when they had watched their best friends first become a couple.

"Yeah," he whispered in reply, closing his eyes. "About time."

So. Final chapter. This spent over a year in the making and the epilogue is still to come but the main plot is finished. My boyfriend now internally hates me. Worth it.

Leave your reviews I greatly appreciate every one that I receive ~