My Dear Laurens (Lams)

J. Laurens

The sky was only as beautiful as it had always been. 

The morning sky, the sun already risen, the birds singing like accompaniments to a grand orchestra of colors, shadows, and sounds. 

The sky was a base blue. The kind of blue that wakes you up on Sunday's, reminding you how much of the day you will sleep away, only to find yourself unable to rest again after you've seen such a sky. You wake, not because of its beauty, but because of its meaning. It is a welcome sign and an alarm. It is a promise of something new, but a foundational piece, like a river, allowing the water to run. As it always does. 

The sky was nothing to Laurens when his friend, his confidante, his lover, and companion woke him, nose brushing against his, with a drop of blood smearing on the tip of Laurens' nose. It was like a thick, oozing-black paintbrush running a malicious X through a peaceful landscape. 

Laurens' eyes opened slowly. There was a sleepy blur cloaking his vision. He rubbed his eyes and he could see clearly. What he could see was Alexander smiling... no, grinning with too many teeth showing to be sane, and blood smeared across his face in a downward slant like a cancellation of a word that should never have been spoken. 

Laurens scrambled up, hands grabbing all around him, clenching the bed sheets to find purchase in anything to keep him steady. "What the hell?" He yelped, backing to the headboard of the bed. 

Alexander leaned closer, his body on top of Laurens', on all fours, still smiling. His eyes shone as if he found gold. "John," he whispered. The sound terrified Laurens. "I've been shot."

Laurens' eyes widened. He lurched forward, hands on Alexander's shoulders, then running across his body, searching. "Alex, wha- how? Where? Are you alright?" His breathing picked up to a steady pace that only read as panic. He was hyperventilating. 

Alexander lifted his hand, the weight shifting on the bed, then his fingers curled around the side of Laurens' head. "Shh, don't worry."

Laurens felt something off. His brows furrowed as he slowly turned his head, not understanding what was so weird about Alexander's hold on him. When he craned his neck far enough to see, his jaw dropped. He whipped his head back to Alexander, then back to Alexander's right hand. 

"You- You're hand, Alex!" He held Alexander's hand in his, examining it carefully.

"Yes, yes," Alexander mumbled, drawing his hand in front of him. "I lost a finger, but it doesn't matter because I realized something."

"It matters a lot!"

Alexander sat on Laurens' legs. His eyes floated upward to meet Laurens'. They suggested something disguised as innocent. "John, the ring finger of my right hand was shot off by Aaron Burr because he challenged me to a duel and when I chose to throw away my shot, he pulled the trigger anyway. Although, I think he shot me on accident. We talked about it afterward and we're on good terms, now."

Laurens felt his head spin, but Alexander didn't seem to understand how such an enormous influx of information could massacre one's brain cells. "What the hell," he muttered, bringing a hand up to massage his temples.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier that him and I were experiencing problems, I really am, but I can't focus on that as much as I'd like to because, as I said, I realized something." Alexander flexed his nine fingers in front of him as if he was showing Laurens a crystal ball that only he could see. "When I thought I was about to die, I did a lot of thinking. You were there at the end, John. That might not seem as special as my first thoughts, but trust me when I say it meant the most. I saw you there and I realized what it would be like to never see you again. I realized that because I couldn't lose you, I couldn't die, so I had to throw away my shot. It wasn't about the duel, or Burr, or anything anymore. Nothing else mattered, unless you were there with me. Just you and me. No fear, no shame, just us. So," Alexander grasped Laurens' hands with his and brought them to his lips. He kissed each one, then rested his head on their intertwined hands. Laurens couldn't stop staring at him. "My dear Laurens, will you marry me?"