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He hadn’t been asleep for long when Aled had shaken him awake. It was dim, but Dan could see the way Aled’s face was twisted, painted, torn. In the dimness of the night, he looked like a masterpiece of art, but the tear tracks pressed into Aled’s rosy cheeks brought his attention away from that.
“Dan,” he whispered. His lower lip trembled, eyes squeezing shut, and two fat tears fell like cascading diamonds to his face. Dan reached out hesitantly, brushed a feather light touch against Aled’s cheek, up and under his eye, brushed the tear away.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. It’s stupid,” he said, and Dan could hear the breathlessness weighing his voice down. He pushed himself away, looking everywhere except Daniel.
“Aled,” Dan said.
When Aled didn’t respond, he stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed, where Aled was sitting. First he stood there, gazing slightly down at his boyfriend who seemed to be crumbling before his eyes. He didn’t look up, just stared at his feet as if he could fight eternity like that. Blind.
“Aled.”
A low sniffle. A heavy swallow.
Aled looked up, croaked out, “Yeah?”
Dan stepped forwards when he heard Aled’s voice break. Aled moved a bit to accommodate him because, even in times like these, when he was falling apart, he couldn’t make himself refuse help. Not after what had happened last time. So Dan found a spot between Aled’s knees and cupped his face between his hands like he would never let go. He smiled, leaned downwards. He let his lips press against Aled’s forehead, memorized every bump on his skin again. He didn’t move away after, just kept his face right up against Aled’s as he spoke in a low murmur.
“Talk to me,” he said. And Aled did.
“Mum messaged me… after you went to sleep. It’s hard to hear from her after everything, that’s all,” Aled said.
“Shit, Aled,” Dan said, pulling his face away from Aled’s so their eyes could meet. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Aled looked down bashfully, pressed his pink lips together and smiled. He shook his head and pulled his arms around Dan, pulled them together until there was no telling where one of them ended and one of them began. They were like the dim tapestry of the night sky, telling a million stories. Dan laughed, smiled, pressed his nose into Aled’s cheek.
“We’re going to be okay, Aled,” he murmured.
Aled’s response was muffled into Dan’s neck, but they knew each other. They knew each other so well, and Dan could hear everything Aled was saying and everything he had meant to say, forgotten to say, apologize for.
I know. I’m okay. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I love you.
“You too,” Dan said.
It was quiet then, as they shuffled back to sleep with Dan pressed against Aled’s back and their legs entangled. They looked so different, dark hair side-by-side with pastel pink, but their hearts were aligned. The strings of their love reached out for each other like hands, clasping together like they would never let go.