I Told The Stars About You

The Flower Field

Andrew's eyes fluther open, it took him moments to adjust to his surrounding. It was not cold nor hot, it was almost the same temperature as the bathtub when his body was first in. It was comfortable enough to make him feel drowsy, sleepy, so much so he had to fight to keep his eyes open for the first five minutes. But after those five minutes passed, it was rather calm, so calm he could feel his heartbeat on his arms. It pulsates and thus makes his blood circle through his body, like a pebble hitting the water from a lake.

His eyes couldn't help but wonder and look around him, it was the night field, where the stars would collect and greet Andrew. One of them, one of those pretty wonders would be him, looking down at him, waiting for him, listening to him. The field was filled with flowers, the grass was so fresh and green, the flowers were pink, blue, yellow, red, purple.

Andrew tried to grab some of the flowers as he looked around, but everytime he ripped one off, the flower would fade away in a dusk of sparkles and nothingness. It would disappear in his hand. Like his hand, body and soul made the flower die. He was not warm, his skin was cold and didn't have much color; thus dead. It was only about time for his color and warmth to come back, or only took for someone to appear to get his warmth back, half his heart back.

It felt for a moment, for those five minutes that took him to react properly at the change of universe, it felt for a moment like there was no circulating air in the field, like it was stuck in a bubble. No oxygen to give out or aid. So he almost felt like choking but weirdly at peace at the same time. His death was peaceful to him, it was comforting and saved him from terrifying.

He stood there for those five minutes, waiting, the flowers drifted away so his distraction method was no use. He didn't move from his place, not forward or back, or side to side, nothing.

He was in the field, and now was full of flowers. He remembered when he first brought Dalton to the field, how Dalton worried that he might get hurt while he did cartwheels on the grass. And also how they had a small picnic date, under the stars, and the moon shined bright, and they felt at peace; the same kind of peace feeling he was feeling now. There was no air but it was deadly quiet, only the singing of the crickets could be heard from where he stood. Little by little, the minutes went by and ran out. Little by little air started to fill his lungs, little by little breathing became possible.

And so now he could move, his legs were heavy at the first step he took, so much he almost fell down. His body was weak enough for just his right leg to feel one person's weight. He had to breathe, take several breaths before he walked even further.

...one

two...

...three...

He then felt like puking. His stomach backflipped and kicked him down to the ground. "Oh...fuck!-" He was just about to vomit when he felt him. It was him.

He looked up in a blink of an eye, he wasn't hoping to see him but he knew he would. From a distance, at first glance he could only see a golden blub with sparkles and gas around it, so faded yet so present. "Dalton...?" he muttered, waiting for the response.

The blub didn't answer. But Andrew felt his answer.

He stood up without thinking about it twice. His knees slightly sore and a little numb, he stumbled his first two steps, his knees, calves, feet and the entirety of his leg pained him. It was painful to walk but he felt it would be even more painful to stay still in his place, when he knew and could see and feel his love's soul or something standing in front of him. He knew it was something from him, whatever it could be he wanted to be close to it, to have his presence; his soul; close and embracing his love's.