The End of Eden

XX

When I wake up, I'm still firmly tucked against Four, and the light is sneaking past the curtains over his windows. I stretch against him, and I start to roll over, but pause. I can see him, out of the corner of my eye.

He doesn't have his mask on, and he remains totally asleep.

It would be so easy, so very easy to finish rolling over, to see his face, to look upon the man behind the mask of a vessel. He wouldn't know; no one would know because no one is here, and I'm the only one awake.

Sleep would know.

The thought has me rolling back over, away from him, my eyes closing. But I fidget. My arms, my legs, softly at first, and then enough to wake him up. I feel him press closer against me, his lips touch a spot below my ear, and then pull away. A few seconds later, there is the sound of the mask being pulled into place.

"Good morning," I whisper, rolling over to lay on my back and look up at it. He meets my eyes with his own sleepy eyes.

"A good morning indeed," he says quietly, his eyes roving down my body. "You should probably run back to your room."

I squeeze my eyes shut, the nerves rolling around in my stomach anew. I press the heels of my hands into my eyes, and I beg myself to not cry. But a single anxious tear leaks out from under my hand.

I can feel Four swipe away the tear, and he pulls my head into his lap, as he whispers a hushing sound.

"Don't cry," he whispers, his voice close to my ear. "You are strong, and you are worthy. Don't forget what I told you during the night."

And how could I? I will be there for you. I always have been, and it's where I shall remain.

He lets me borrow some pants, and a plain black cardigan, and instead of going back to my room, I go to the kitchens and swipe a knife and a basket, and go out to the poppy fields. I know that if I sit in my room and stare at the dress more, it'll only increase my anxiety more. So I give myself a task of making a bouquet.

I take my time, cutting a handful of perfect, fluffy pink poppy blooms, before switching to salvia, cutting stems of leaves, and adding them to the basket too. Once satisfied, start my walk back to the complex after plucking a ripe peach from the peach tree I've sat under countless times now.

Halfway there, I find two pristine magpie feathers, black but opalescent blue in the sunlight. I look around, thinking I might see the bird itself, but I see nothing. I tuck them into the basket too, allowing myself to think that it is a sign from Sleep that I am on the right path.

Once back in the center, I stop for a while in the rose garden, selecting the most beautiful white blooms to add to my already overflowing basket after I cut off the thorns. I tuck the knife back into the basket, and decide that I am missing one single thing.

Picking up my basket I make my way over to the sanctum, and find Two's door, and I knock on it. I don't care if I keep bothering them; we are all literally about to be married.

But Two doesn't answer. I try knocking again, and I am debating trying the handle of the door when I feel him behind me.

"Sweetling..." he croons. The hairs on my whole body stand up, and I suck my lips into my mouth and turn around to find him edging around me to his door, which was unlocked, because he easily opens it up. "Did you need something?"

He holds the door open for me, and I step inside. "I do, actually," I say, trying to not snoop too much into his room. But I can't help it. His room is all exposed dark grey brick, and the same dark hardwood floors throughout the rest of the sanctum. Like everyone else's private spaces, he has plush armchairs but leather, an armoire, and of course, his bed. But where Vessel's is low to the ground, and Four's in a wooden frame, and Three's just sat on the ground, he has a simple iron frame.