Bagatelle

8.

Brett dreams.

He is sitting down over a mountain. The sky is blue and clear, and the wind moves his hair gently.

The view is so beautiful, he feels like floating around those clouds.

Aren't you lonely?, a voice asks from the back.
Brett turns to see him, but there's no one.

I cried every night, Brett hears again.
And then, he can hear the sweet sound of a violin.

"Where are you?", he asks getting up. Stretching his neck to look where the sound is coming from.

We are friends, right?, he hears again, this time so close that the breath makes his ears tickle.
He turns to see him.

But there's no one. No one, on top of that mountain. The wind starts to blow stronger, making him harder to stand up.

"Eddy?", he screams. But no one answers.

Eddy!

"I'm right here," Eddy says gently. Brett open his eyes slowly, and founds Eddy's soft eyes looking at him with a tender smile. He places a hand over his chest, caressing hum gently.
"Eddy ...", he whispers still half sleep. He strokes his eyes with one hand. “Where are we?”, He asks confused, enjoying the warmth of the touch.

But when his eyes finally open fully, he remembers.
"Oh," he exclaims getting up in a jump. "Good morning", he mumbles confused.

Shit. I totally forgot for an instant.

He looks for his glasses, on the floor, and puts them back quickly.
Eddy laughs at Brett's hair, that usually is on his place, but now is as wild and messy as Eddy's.

"It's not morning, yet though," Eddy Giggles. “I think you were having a nightmare. But the sun is not even out yet.”

Brett turns to see the window. It's true. The sky is still dark outside.

“What time is it?”, He says taking his phone out. Well, it is morning, just terribly early for a Saturday. 5 o'clock.
He puts his phone back on his pocket and walks out the room, still stumbling a little from getting up so fast.

I guess we sleep enough for the night though. It was nearly 10pm when we fall sleep...

"The owner might be here soon, anyway," Brett says. “We don't usually open on weekends, but he will pass by before he leaves town”, he adds.

“Why is he leaving town?”, Eddy asks walking towards Brett, yawning.
"Good morning, by the way", he ads stretching his arms, while smiling.

Brett looks at him for an instant. Eddy wears his smile even so early in the morning.
I can't even hold it for a whole day.

“His family lives in other city. He visits them every week", Brett takes the hoodie from the chair and offers it to Eddy.

"Thank you",  he whispers gently. “I wouldn't mind wearing this, though. It fits me well ", he adds laughing.

Brett nods. “You can keep it then", he says walking away, leaving the hoodie on the table.

"Oh, it was ... a joke", Eddy says confused.

"Really?", Brett asks confused. Sarcasm is not one of his strongest features. “Then go change. The owner might be arriving soon ”, he says this with a cold sight that hurts Eddy.

I thought I have made some advancements ... I guess no.
“Ok,” Eddy whispers going inside the room again to change.

Meanwhile, Brett takes his bag pack from inside his locker.
I'm sure I have something here. Oh, here it is!
He takes out a small bag full of candies. He sits down on the table, as he waits for Eddy to come back. He takes one, coffee flavoured.

It's so early. My brain can't work like this. And my back hurts.

"Thank you", says Eddy interrupting his thoughts.
He puts the pink sweater over the table and pushes it near were Brett's head is resting.
Brett looks like a stuffed toy who lost his filling.

“Mmh”, he answers with out looking at him. He takes the candies, and pushes it near Eddy's hand. "Candies," he says with a grave voice. Talking like a zombie who can only speak simple words.

Eddy giggles. So, he's not mad. He's just not a morning person.

“Candies!”, Eddy exclaims sitting next to him. He picks one, strawberry flavoured.

“You don't like mornings?”, Eddy asks while playing with the red envelopment of the empty candy.

"No," Brett answers defeated. He turns his head to see Eddy. “I hate them”, he answers smiling at Eddy, who almost get chocked.