The Angel with Black Hair

Chapter 4: The Feeling

[Revised Version]

"I'm here again. A thousand miles away from you. A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am. I tried so hard. Thought I could do this on my own. I've lost so much along the way... Then I'll see your face. I know I'm finally yours. I find everything I thought I lost before. You call my name. I come to you in pieces. So you can make me whole." ~Red

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The Bright Sunlight had penetrated his closed eyelids. Reluctantly, his half-awake brain willed them to open and confirm the notion of daylight for themselves. He was right. But he was far from being out in the open air, exposed and unsheltered to the same Beach from last night.

The thin, white curtains across him were yellow from the rays of the morning sun behind them. The relaxing material under his weight had to be anything other than the uncomfortable sand. The wooden roof couldn't be the black night sky. And nothing around him could be anything familiar.

But he felt safe.

The Man had to be there.

The Boy could almost hear him watching him - smell the contented rhythm of his heart. With a breath stuck to his lungs, he turned around to find him there. In an armchair at the other, darker corner of the room, right across him, with observant eyes, he was sitting there, doing nothing but keeping his gaze on him.

He wanted to know what he was thinking - along with where they were. Thoughts weren't shareable even to them. But if anyone had a chance of knowing what was passing through that complicated Man's head was that Boy alone.

He sat up, watching the Man following his every movement like a hawk-eyed Evil. He tucked his knees beneath his weight, making himself smaller and noticing - only then - that the sheets were white and that he was into different clothes.

"I changed us." The Man barged into his observations before they could get too far. At the sound of his voice, the Boy looked up to find him in the same brand new state. His attire was less solemn and more comfortable. His feet were bare. And yet everything had the blackness that he could only fulfill.

"You made quite a mess last night." His innocuous Blue Flames engulfed his hands on each side of the armchair's side supports. He pushed his frame to his feet from his back and up, crossing the few meters that were keeping them apart to get to the Boy's side.

The Boy couldn't stop the feeling of helplessness from coming to the front. He stood there kneeling on the bed, hypnotized and overwhelmed. His thoughts were far from there - roaming into a belligerent Sea, hiding into an anxious Crimson. An inky Black right then and right across him wasn't providing the same comfort. The Man was cold and unapproachable - a silent Judge to the Boy's latest decisions. His controlled rage from last night, maybe, wanted to return. And the Boy let him decide his approach. He watched him thaw himself to head closer. A knee dipped the mattress before the other. Their eyes never unlocked. And it seemed to the Boy the Man was beginning to enjoy his slow course. His chest puffed out proudly. His lips molded a devious smirk.

He came to a standstill close right in front of him. Shadowy Black stared him down with playful sternness at the moment. The previous blankness had perished like a snowflake in the sun. And the Boy didn't know what to conclude. All he knew was that those eyes had warmth and color in them and that he wanted to - always - be able to get lost in that flame.

Black eyes kept wandering all across the Boy's face, creating stories, inventing scenarios of them together that the Boy had yet to detect. An austere hand went up and petted blond locks. The Man had fond enchantment in his heart. It was calmness - clear feelings without rational vacillations. He didn't have any inhibitory remainders left. Those had melted in the turbulent Storm that his Little Fledged Bird had created a night ago. The mess the Boy had knitted in the Sea, that impassive desperation against the waves - how could the Man look the other way? That tangled load belonged to them both. They had to carry it together. There was no other way. He had made his decision on that golden coast.