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Golden sunshine through the window, sweet and gentle, reminds you of honey and summer. It is autumn now, but still warm enough to feel it. The light reflects on Rolan’s brown hair, shining through your fingers. You keep brushing his hair in silence.
When was the last time that you’ve felt so at peace, you wonder? Surely, times have been more or less peaceful; you make sure of it yourself; but this moment is particularly calm, and your mind wanders here and there. Thinking of the past, of your friends, of the world around you; you think of your parents, wherever they might be.
Bell is dozing off on top of a napkin twice her size, shortly after feasting on sugary tea drops. Out of anyone you’ve ever known she is the one who has always given you the strength to live on. You don’t know if she knows how much you appreciate her, or how to make it clear to begin with, so you try to show it in the little things until you can thank her one day.
The wind howls in the lazy afternoon as you finish brushing Rolan’s hair, and when you go pick up some hair ties, he’s soundly asleep as well. You don’t know when he did so, but proceed to braid his hair with the fewer disturbances possible.
Before you know it your eyelids are heavy as well. A braid comes undone in your hands. These slip past Rolan’s shoulders and your head is resting on his own, he’s even warmer than the sunlight from outside.
Your thoughts switch to him, sweet and bitter at the same time. But although part of you resents him still, right now it’s the gentle feeling in your chest that wins over anything else. Deep inside you hope he doesn’t resent you like you do to him, but it would make sense if he did, really.
Regardless of his feelings, he’s still here.
His stirring jolts you awake, muttering something about heaviness, and you quickly move to the side, letting him wake up and rub his face. Once he’s somewhat lucid, Rolan’s gaze meets yours and gives you a faint smile.
“S-sorry, I woke you up.”
You shake your head, but your words get interrupted by a yawn, prompting him to laugh. Embarassed, you turn your eyes to Bell still asleep on the table, and to Rolan again. He too seems like he’d like to sleep more, or at least just lie in the sunlight in silence, with only breathing and faint outside sounds as disruptions.
Perhaps that is what eternity is to Rolan now.
Some other time, you probably would have rejected the idea, but right here and now you sheepishly bring a chair close to his, and lie your head on his shoulder, dozing off together for as long as the room remains warm.