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Aramis woke up ready to start the new day. |
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That is, except if you actually had a way to keep track of the time. From dawn to dusk, the sky was usually a thick, smoky gray color that loomed over one's head like a secret kept inside far too long. That being said, Aramis wasn't sure whether it was 6 a.m. or 3 p.m. when he finally woke up. He didn't really care, either. Last night, he'd met the Zodiac, and he had to come from somewhere, right?
There must have been a town not too far away. Gathering his things, he started off once again in as perfectly straight a line any normal human could walk. The air was sticky with humidity and clung to his clothes and skin like millions of tiny, needy hands. Deus, he couldn't wait to get indoors. He was desperate for a decent chair, a cold pint, a human voice. Sure, the whistling winds and the whispering grass were melodious in themselves, but he was, after all, a person. And people are social animals. Company of nearly any kind would be welcomed at this point. Somewhere in the distance, a tiny, threadlike curl of inky black smoke snaked into the sky. Black smoke meant something was burning. And something burning meant fire. And fire usually meant people. Perhaps he was approaching a town! Aramis hoped it was Jungar's Fort City; the last time he was there, he'd stumbled upon a local celebration, some festival of some sort, and had the time of his life. There was food and music and dancing and plenty enough to drink. In fact, he'd awoken the next day to find himself laying beside an absolutely stunning young brunette. However, as soon as that brunette's wife came home, he
found himself dangling from the window sill from the second floor of the house with his pants around his ankles. He laughed aloud at the memory, and his mind began to drift in and out of thought, bouncing from one thing to the next until it dug its steely claws into a name: Punishment. The smile fading from his face, the glint in his eye replaced by a dull, almost lifeless sheen, he fell into the last memory he shared with Punishment...
They sat across from each other at a bar table, both holding half-empty glasses of whiskey that splashed liquid amber reflections over their stoic faces. It was ending and they both knew it. They could see it coming from miles away and were still powerless to stop it. There were a few desperate, grasping attempts made, but their fingers kept slipping through each others'. It was as futile as trying to gather water in a net, as hopeless as trying to catch sunlight in a jar. Nothing really needed to be said right then. They'd both pretty much said their goodbyes to their memories and each other in the weeks before, though their arguments and fights, though the frustrated yelling and screaming, through the tears and the tantrums. But for all the shattered glass, the splintered furniture, the torn clothing and the opened wounds, nothing was so obviously damaged more than their broken hearts. They both kept their eyes downcast, preferring to keep their gaze fixed upon the alcohol grasped tightly in their hands like a lifeline than look at each other. Soon, it would be dawn outside. And as soon as that sun rose, Aramis knew, Punishment would be leaving him once and for all.
"Can I share a cigarette with you?" he blurted out suddenly, barely managing to keep a sob from scraping past his throat and making itself known. "Just one more. No harm in that, right?" Punishmet didn't lift his gaze from the glass. Instead, he gave a solemn nod and stood up. Leaving two pieces of gold at the table, they gathered their belongings and left the bar, heading towards the Desuit cathedral in the middle of town. For the duration of the walk, neither said a word. Aramis pretended like it didn't bother him at all. In any case, he'd been through a million breakups before; this shouldn't have been any different. It was, though. When Punishment finally walked away, he'd be taking a piece of his heart with him. Though it was broken and he could eventually piece it back together, it will never, ever be whole again without him.
Eventually, they made their way to the cathedral and sat upon its pristine gray marble steps in the warm, welcoming darkness of pre-dawn. Setting his bag aside, Aramis searched his pockets for the pack of cigarettes he knew he'd packed this morning. Eventually finding the pack inside his boot, he reached in and pulled out two cigarettes, handing one to Punishment. He took it without a word, his ice-blue eyes visible for only a fraction of a second as he combed his hair from his face with his hand. "Got a light?" Punishment asked, placing the filter of the accursed little vice between his lips. Aramis nodded and procured from his pocket a book of matches. He lit one of the matches, touching it to the tip of his cigarette and taking
a few puffs to get it started, tossing away the now-useless match and scooting a bit closer to Punishment. He had half a mind to touch the tip of his cigarette to Punishment's to get it started, but decided that perhaps it was better not to get that close again. Instead, he lit another match and touched the tip to the end of Punishment's cigarette. Punishment acknowledged the gesture with barely a nod in his direction and turned away to stare off into the distance. Aramis watched him a while, studying how the wind played with his hair, and how his nose wrinkled when the smoke began to curl into them. He'd noticed these things a million times before, but they all seemed wonderfully new to him, enchanting and beautiful all over again, as if seeing them for the first time.
They smoked in silence, never saying a single word to each other. Eventually, as the ashes of the cigarettes were tapped away, as the sky above them grew brighter with the impending dawn, as the birds began to wake and sing their little songs, Aramis felt himself growing heavier. Soon. He'll be leaving soon. He only barely noticed when his cigarette had ended; he only knew that he no longer tasted the menthol when he inhaled and that signaled the end of the cigarette. The end of his last precious moments with Punishment. Almost as if on cue, Punishment reached for his bags and stood up. "Thanks for the cigarette, boy," he said, stepping down from the cathedral steps without even single look back. Wait, Aramis screamed in his mind, Wait, it's not dawn yet, you can't go yet, please stay! But the words caught in his throat and he was forced with the decision to either stay quiet and not voice his protest or let Punishment hear him cry.
He decided that he wouldn't let Punishment see him cry again.
And so, he forced a smile instead. "See you around, soldier," he said, cursing his wavering voice. He watched Punishment walk away, watched until he became an indistinguishable speck on the horizon and eventually disappeared from his view. He then stood up, slung his bag over his shoulders, and began to walk in the opposite direction, steeling himself for the days ahead without the one who taught him to love again.
Aramis didn't realize how long he'd been replaying those final moments in his head. As soon as he came to his senses, he found himself just outside the gates of Jungar's Fort City. Breathe easy, Aramis, he reminded himself as he set forth into the main Vollan city. You've got to learn to breathe again. Tomorrow is a brand new day... he could start over and keep Punishment off of his mind completely, perhaps.
Sure. And perhaps tomorrow the sun will revolve around the moon.
 Bleeding Apocalypse · Sun Jan 22, 2006 @ 12:01pm · 0 Comments |
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