Chapter Text
The wind stopped whispering - it fell still, yet hung with an idle awkwardness that mimicked the two figures it circled around.
The moon rose higher into the sky, eager to see this interaction unfold under its dark, starry cape, yet too afraid to interfere.
The two stood facing eachother, just like the last time they met face to face, but today they didn't stand in that vast space with dusty, rocky ground under their feet, with a dark star carved into the floor below as the roar of voices from high above -watching and eyeing- echoed down and the hefty scent of iron piercing.
Everything was different. Everything has changed now.
Yet Fluixon still bled.
He bled now, just like he bled then.
Crimson dripping almost rhythmically down onto the pale quartz, erasing and devouring its unobtrusive peace... it felt almost ironic to Saparata. Blood trickling down in its own organized manner, making sure not to break its pattern,making sure it doesn't fail to break the silence of each passing second, making sure each drop is the same as the last and dripped into a flawless puddle right below.
It fit Fluixon perfectly.
It taunted Saparata.
It made sure that he knew he had to deal with the figure infront, and this time he couldn't run away from it.
"Are you going to let me bleed out again?"
Saparata stared at him with less emotion than he has ever presented, yet his eyes stabbed with the sense of annoyance to his stupid question, and Fluixon seemed to pick it up.
That sentence stabbed through the silence, and not in the pleasant way with water streaming gently around you, running like a calm river, but with a sharp and sudden sting right through the heart. It was a terrible way to interupt the quiet, it left a bitter atmosphere, yet it was better than letting the heavy tranquility root further into the moment and listening to the subtle drop of blood had started to irritate him - they had to do something, they couldn't avoid eachother.
Fluixon was still bleeding.
Saparata took a deep breath and closed his eyes, inhaling the still air as it touched cold against his lungs, its pale fingers gently embracing.
He had to make a move.
His gaze met the world again, and it redirected straight towards the dark haired man infront of him as if in routine, staring deep into his eyes. With a swift step forwards, he inched closer and closer to him until he was face to face, and his details appeared must more clearer now. His face was still very rough and scraped up, scarlet still dripping from the corner of his mouth and from the small cut above his eye that he hadn't seen before. He was ghostly and dull, he seemed weak, his composure crumbling away. It felt unnatural, it didnt seem like the Fluixon he used to know.
Was he real?
His vivid, violet eyes were still gleaming brightly and beautifully- staring directly into Saparata - reflecting like dazzling pearls under the moonlight, sparkling as if they had their own fantasy world inside, they were contrastingly different from the rest of his appearance.
He seemed real.
Fluixon opened his mouth desiring to speak, yet he was cut off before anything rolled off his tongue by Saparata's quick and irrational actions. Two soft hands met Fluixon's bloodied face, gently cupping his cheeks and letting silence flow between them again. He held them pressed gently against pale skin, crimson blood staining his fingertips red yet the figure infront of his seemed to relax, his body no longer as tense and this moment drowned out their surroundings. They were fully in each others presence and for a hasty moment, all that mattered was them.
Fluixon started to tremble again, blood seemed to grow thicker and slight whimpers escaped his mouth indicating that the splintering pain through his body never went away, and all they're doing is wasting eachothers time.
And not in a good way.
Saparata embarrassing retreated his hands, wiping the red off his fingertips and staining his trousers instead.
"I need to bandage you up." He states bluntly, it was a remark, a stupid one at that, and visibly something that needed more urgency.
"You think so?" Fluixon laughed, yet his voice came out more rasp than expected, his hands started to shake more and he abruptly hunched into a harsh coughing fit. Saparata took a quick, short step back to give him space, alarmed by this sudden movement as the figure infront curled over his lungs, and coughed stiffly into his fists, leaving a red mark of liquid on his fingers. His breathing turned panickingly heavy for just a moment -as if he was suffocating- and Saparata's heart spiked with the weight of dread before Fluixon took a deeper breath and it eventually evened out back to his normal breathing, yet it seemed he was still struggling as he swayed back to stand, not meeting Saparata's gaze entirely.
Fluixon was never this fragile.
The silence was not a stranger to them anymore, they seemed to get used to it, it accompanied them, yet they both seeked out for each others attention, not wanting to admit the slight comfort from these moments spent together- even if it was the worst moment of the night.
Saparata moved calmly, reaching out to put a hand on Fluixon's shoulder, pressing comfortablely into the soft velvety fabrics of his jacket, "We need to get inside."
A simple request, one to get them away from the strangle of the outside atmosphere and welcome them both into the comfort of the home.
Fluixon hesitated, seemingly still wary about this whole situation, and he somewhat backed away from the touch.
What was he even doing?
Was it a mistake to return to him?
Saparata hates him still, he's sure of that...
So why was he treating him with such hospitality?
It seemed that Fluixon's mind fell into a loop of thoughts aswell, they swirled down like snowflakes stained red, and fell into the layer of white that never melted. It seemed so pure that the horrors of misery buried beneath it are unimaginable.
"I-..." He was starting to act foolishly, his mind no longer stringed together, he couldn't plan out his sentences beforehand anymore, his mind blurred and he didnt know why. It fell into a mess of words.
A sharp ache to his head, a sharp shiver crawled through his body and his knees collpased unwillingly underneath him as his body lost balance. Another yelp from Saparata as he instinctively follows Fluixon down to his level, maintaining eye contact even if the other refused to look back. He shifted fowards, afraid to lose him again.
They really needed to speed things up.
Fluixon's body started to grow weaker, and with every passing moment that they spent, he slanted closer and closer towards Saparata for support, until he was fully leaning against him, his breath hot against his neck.
"Flux...?" Another pathetic remark, a way to fill the air with words and erase the sounds of silence one more. The figure laying weakly in his arms was clearly not okay, yet he still had the insight to ask. He looks over at his face, his usually calm composure shattered and filled with misery- his eyes seemed dull now, staring weakly to the pool of his own blood on the floor, still avoiding to look at Saparata.
"Shut up..." Weak and barely audible, Fluixon's voice cracked and for a split moment Saparata thought he was about to break down and cry.
In how much pain really was he?
What is he not showing?
He felt cold against his skin, just like the numb colours of crispy white under your feet, as hues of tinted yellow lanterns barely brung warmth to the surrounding, the moon paler than tonight, hidden behind the looming cobbled tower up above.
Saparata didnt want to think of that right now.
"We cant spend any more time out here." Anything now that comes out of his mouth seemed stupid, and it definitely was, but was point is there in trying to make different remarks that dont correspond to this moment when your... friend ... is shivering cold and dripping warm, velvet blood?
"Can you stand?"
No coherent answer, just a subtle hum to indicate disagreement from the darker haired man, folllowed by squirms of discomfort. He stirred and winced, catching Saparata off guard.
With Fluixon limp against his body he seemed to be awfully caring and tender towards him, and he didnt know why.
Maybe because this feels immensely familiar to him, and the fear of him dying in his arms again was haunting, so keeping his as near as possible was the only way to subside these thoughts?
The night was growing colder.
Saparata softly pushes most of Fluixon's weight off himself - which is followed by a small sound of disapproval from Flux- and hooks a hand under his knees while wrapping the other around his waist gently and pushing them both off the hard ground.
He was terribly light.
He holds him close to his torso with a strong grip around his body while Fluixon's head finds its way onto Saparata's shoulder, laying deep in the hook of his neck, hiding away from the world.
He stood for just a moment, facing the navy hues of the freckled blanket above him face to face for the first time this night.
Did he feel at peace right now?
The breeze returned, no longer heaving the thick layers of discomfort, but rather dancing with twirls of tranquility through their hair and bouncing away in playful pirouettes.
No matter how much blood and emotion was lost today, they still found rare moments of calm.
"Saps..." A long used nickname plastered in their friendship, a spark of a lost memory said by a faint, tired murmur that snapped Saparata back into reality.
"Hm?" He questions with a confused hum, and quickly realised what kind of situation theyre in right now. He lets out a breath, and faces his back away from the sky.
Moments spend here might be walked away from, yet never forgotten.
This might be some sort of end to their past emotions, yet tension was still thick and present.
This is a small start to a new story between them,and a start to new emotions.
Its kind of poetic.
Its pretty.
Its refreshing.
Its...
them.