Euthanasia

Chapter Fourteen- Loose Ends

A realization.
The autumn wind howled soothingly outside the carriage they voyaged in. Only a couple days into the journey and the two travelers felt the air prickle with a closeness they were too aware of.
The road rumbled beneath the wooded wheels of the carriage, stumbling over small rocks or gently falling into shallow divots. A frigid frost crept against the narrow frame of the windowed door George rested his head on. The night grew cold as the sun tucked itself behind distant earthy mountains and petaled flowering fields; however, the chilling night air failed to chase away the warmth that filled the carriage.
The moon was high in the sky, indicating that midnight was close. For a final time, the carriage bumped dramatically on the rough terrain before coming to a sudden halt. George raised his head, peeking a look at Dream who was wide awake beside him, staying alert to any bad thing that could happen.
He looked tired, but it was hard for George to feel sympathetic. He didn't want to be angry. He didn't want to ignore Dream every time he tried to say anything. But Dream was a killer, one who would never be able to stop; therefore, George should not love him. But to stop loving someone is difficult.
A brief sigh escaped his lips, flushed from the heat that surrounded them. At the sound Dream turned to gaze at him. To George it was like Dream was analyzing him, keeping an eye on his every move, but really, he was just worried about him.
With a loud huff from the carriage driver, George scrambled out, aware of the coachman's unwillingness to help them, though bribery from Dream apparently goes a long way.
They should have stopped long ago, but they were crossing the border of Iaspis, in the place the battle between the two kingdoms had previously slowly ceased. Dream didn't want to be in that area long, afraid to find an Iaspis patrol with a thirst for blood. Because of this, he insisted on continuing until they passed through, despite the exasperation the driver expressed.
The abrupt change in temperature-from hot to cold-brought a rose-colored blush that stained George's pale cheeks. As he exhaled, a puff of steam departed from his parting lips and disappeared into the night.
Without saying a word at all, they set up the tent to get some sleep before the sun rose again. The fabric was set low to the ground, and though it looked thin, it kept the heat in well enough. It didn't take a lot of time to set up, and once a fire was built, George began to warm up again.
He sat close to the flames that licked the sky with their ribbon like tendrils. With his head in his arms, he wanted so badly to close his eyes and allow the world to disappear. But the heat that melted into his face from the intensity of the fire in front of him felt too real and the freezing wind at his back pulled him into reality too quickly.
The moon was past its highest point, and still George had yet to find comfort in sleep. The driver, who George still hadn't caught the name of, was quiet in his tent. George knew that Dream, however, would be endlessly tossing and turning within the tent, unable to calm his racing thoughts. It was George's presence that usually relaxed his anxiety, and without him there to tether him down the earth, he was merely floating away without anything to point him in the right direction.
As the sun began to peek over the horizon, George finally forced himself inside the tent. He reluctantly picked up his body and stumbled through the opening, quietly closing it behind him. Dream was there, finding rest almost as uneasily as George was.
He slipped his body besides Dream, where the two fit perfectly beside each other. It was almost too perfect, but George didn't care. There didn't need to be words spoken, the nearness was enough. Being close was almost a necessity. Even if it was tense between them, even if they didn't want to face the things they were afraid of, they could at least feel safe with each other. Even if it was for the last time.
Letting his eyes flutter closed, he breathed in Dreams scent, letting himself be pulled closer, held tighter. Things hadn't been this way since before the incident at the border. During all the time they were separated, George knew he missed it. Now that he had it, he wanted more than anything to push it away. Finally, he let his tears creep down his freckled face.
He wasn't going to hold his emotions in, he wanted to feel everything. He wanted to feel the pain of losing Dream. He wanted to feel the pain of realizing what he had to do, the terrible, horrible thing he had to do. Then later, he would feel the anger of what Dream did to the empire. What he did to all those people. The people he killed. All the reasons why George needed to stop it all.
Dream wiped away the tears, unknowing that they were meant for him. The tears that George would not be able to shed after it was all over with.
The sun's cycle began anew again as two lovers grieved. Under a bright new sky, filled with color like spilled ink, one of them didn't understand the true meaning behind the tears.