from august to december

chapter forty three

section 4, december

eden didn't remember many of the moments where he felt alive, he had developed a problem with remembering things; faces, places, what he had done.
but if anyone asked him to describe his face, he would be able to do it without hesitation and point out every single detail.

the mole on the tip of his nose, the smooth, shiny and healthy, slightly wavy curly hair that almost always covered his eyes if he didn't tie it back.

the long, slender and pale fingers with the many silver rings on them.
his brown cardigan he always wore when it got colder outside.
and the acrylic paint on every pair of pants that he owned.

yes, yuri was one of the last things in his mind that was clear, every moment of him was so fresh and soft that he loved thinking about it.
but he never imagined that yuri was still here.

it was different. it was as if with yuri it was different, as if he wasn't able to lie to himself.

two months had passed ever since yuri left to go back home, and he still hadn't called or texted a single time.

eden had heard nothing about him in two months, not how he was doing, if had found someone else, someone who was meant to be with him for a long time or if something had happened to him.

but he had gotten better, slowly, very slowly, but it was better.

he could get up again, start writing some new works, look at yuri's old paintings of him without wanting to rip them apart.

he was already used to feeling this exact emotion, it's not like yuri left for the first time exactly.

from the windows of his apartment, he could see the snow laying on the buildings of the city where three months ago, he stood as the sun was setting with a warm breeze, it was ice cold today, the sky was cloudy, but eden decided he wanted to get out of his home.

so he went on a little walk through the park, his earphones in on full volume, some classical music playing, and looking at the empty trees above him, the snowy streets below him and the kids with their parents having a snowball fight next to him.

maybe one day, he would have kids of his own and have a snowball fight with them as well.

he wanted this to be with yuri, but he knew that the dark haired didn't even want to have kids in the first place.

suddenly, there was a little ray of sunshine on the floor, the clouds had broken apart a little, it was already afternoon.

he wrapped the red scarf around his neck tighter and hid his hands in the pockets of his black coat.
they weren't crooked anymore either, and he had regained his soft voice.

however, he hadn't seen val, leo or hiroto in ages.

just as long as he hadn't seen yuri.

strangely enough, he felt too weak to even go and see them.

after half an hour of marching in the snow, eden finally returned to his apartment complex.
at around 4:30pm in december, the sun was already starting to set, so he quickly took the elevator and opened the white painted door to his apartment.

before doing so, he opened his mailbox at the front of the house and there was a letter wrapped in a red envelope flying into his face.

he stared at it, but there was just his name written on it, not where the letter was coming from.

his home was cozy, his heating was still on, so he quickly removed his boots and his coat and rubbed his hands together.

he hastily went to wash his hands when he suddenly remembered the letter.

with smooth steps he entered back into the living room and fished out the envelope from his coat pocket.

the color of the envelope looked familiar to him, it was his favorite color.
a smooth, dark and velvety type of red that ran through his fingers like a high quality fabric.

curiously, he began ripping it apart and there were three papers.
two paintings and a letter.
and a polaroid photo of him in front of an amusement park.

he immediately recognized the paintings, and the handwriting.

yuri.

it was a letter from yuri.

eden couldn't even catch his shaky breath before he nervously unfolded whatever this was;