“I am sorry,”
Ashlex didn’t turn his head. “What?”
Hector sighed. “I said, I am sorry.”
“For what?”
Hector didn’t answer right away. He had been staring at Ashlex who locked his gaze to outside the window. He knew that Ashlex knew. They were friends for ten years; Hector knew everything about Ashlex like the back of his own hand.
The spring’s wind came in through the window. It didn’t carry sweet smells of flower petals, it was humid and plain. There were chickens on the yard. Their claws were buried under the damp soil. They were not as noisy as usual, Ashlex thought.
“Ash, I am sorry.”
“I heard you.”
Hector breathed in. He rubbed his own temple.
“I thought you need to go?” Ashlex said. “I thought you were waiting for the train? It’s one thirty already.”
Hector looked up to the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. Ashlex was right. If he didn’t hurry he would miss the train.
“Go, Hector. What are you waiting for?”
He touched the scars on his left arm. It was hidden by his clothes, but he could feel it. The long red marks, as if a hawk scratched its talons to his arm. Hector remembered how the pain was, how the blood fell to the carpet. The stain was still there, he was sure.
Hector closed his eyes and enjoyed the train ride.
He said he wanted to settle down everything. He built the latter’s hopes up. But Ashlex didn’t keep his promise.
Hector’s face was blue at that time. Ashlex didn’t mean to strangle him to death. Well, Hector didn’t die, but he threw up in the carpet right after Ashlex released his hands.
This morning, Hector said sorry for the last time. He said he was accepted by a company in the town. He needed to leave the manor, and he said he didn’t want to leave Ashlex alone.
Ashlex loved his house. As much as he loved Hector, he still loved his house more. He loved every single thing inside there; the stairs, the piano room, the old books in the library, everything. When Hector didn’t ask him to go with him to the town, he felt relieved instead of worried.
But then Hector needed his punishment.
Ashlex knew Hector had some girls in the town. He didn’t exactly know who and how many, he just know. Was he gotten tired of Ashlex? He didn’t care. Hector was Ash’s and Ash was Hector’s, as long as the scars on Hector’s left arm didn’t fade.
“Goodbye, Ash.”
“No, not goodbye, Hec. You will come back to this house again, won’t you?”
There was a pain crossed in Hector’s face. Ashlex saw it.
“I don’t know.” Hector admitted.
The sounds of clock’s hand strangely became so loud at that time. Ashlex still stared outside the window. His hand clutched to his white shirt so tight, it might ripped. Hector saw it.
Hector walked closer to Ashlex. He brushed his fingers through Ashlex silver hair. It was smooth like usual. It might be the last time Hector touched Ash’s hair like that. Slowly, he slipped his arms to Ashlex’s slender body, and carefully draw him closer.
“You know that I love you, right?”
Hector kissed Ash’s hair. The scent of him filled his nose immediately. “I know.”
They stayed like that for a while until Ashlex pulled himself. “Go, Hector. What are you waiting for?”
Ashlex could see the excitement inside Hector’s eyes. He didn’t know whether it was because of his new job or his freedom. He didn’t know and he didn’t care.
As Ashlex saw his friend walk through the gate, he felt something sticky on his fingers. It was the last time he could felt Hector’s blood on his fingers. After this ten years of warm and welcoming home, now Ashlex was all alone in his manor. There wouldn’t be another fancy nights or thrilling morning.
The day when Hector wandered into Ashlex’s manor was a miracle. Now the miracle itself was gone, as quick as the way it was coming. But Ashlex regretted nothing. After ten years of his own way of loving and caring, he realized that Hector was too young for his taste. Someone could love him more than Ashlex, better than Ashlex.
He would just wait for another lost boy to came into his manor again. Ashlex had as plenty time as eternity to wait.
inspired by Troye Sivan's Lost Boy.
I'm not sorry if this story is not making sense at all - the idea just came up in my mind in the middle of physic study time. I would rather writing this than study this complicated thing.Labels: english, random, Short Story, Story
