Metion
I find my boy on the rocks beneath the tower. His body nearly broken in two. Blood spilling out onto crystal white sand. The moonlight drifts softly through his curls, drenched in seafoam. Eyes forever closed.
I pick him up and cradle him in my arms. He weighs nothing. Like a little bird, too scared to fly. "Hello, Vik."
"It's not enough," I whisper, pressing my face to his, feeling his cool skin. "I'm not ready. I'm not ready to lose you. You're not allowed to go."
Of course he doesn't stir. Doesn't answer me. Doesn't move. There's no life left in him now.
"Beautiful boy, why did you have to fly away from me?" I ask, stroking dirt and sand from his cheek. "My perfect boy. Don't go. I didn't get enough time. I'm not ready for you to go."
He doesn't move or stir. Only the wind, playing with his hair and the spirit of the boy who was never free. I kiss his face and cradle his broken body, bones rubbing together and blood spilling down my jacket.
Because if I stay here then I haven't lost him. I'm just holding him and he's not gone from me.
I stand up slowly, cradling his body. I can't leave him here. I can't leave him. I promised her I'd take care of him. I promise it. I said I'd take care of him.
So I will. He'll stay with me. He's fine. He's sleeping. I know it's not true, I know those beautiful eyes will never open again. But holding onto his body is all I can do. Keep him with me. Protect him like I never did.
"Not yet," I whisper, "It's not enough. Not yet."
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