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He clasped his hands tightly in his own scarred ones, “Please don’t go. Eli, please.” He whispers, all the bravado and confidence gone, and all that’s left is a pathetic state of a man in complete fear. A fear that this dream would come to an end and wake up without the man in front of him.
Striking blue eyes look at him sadly, and feel his hands escape from his own to cup one of his cheeks, “Mike,” Eli says, poignant with his words. Mike looks at him, a tear escaping his eye when Eli brushes his cheek with his thumb and continues, “You know I can’t do that. Mother Nature forbids it.”
“Then stay for one night.” Mike begs, like a man who is deprived of water, “Just one more night.”
Eli can only stand there, frowning, contemplating, as if he’s given a choice between life and death, before silently sighing. He reaches for his mask to unclasp it from his face and looks at Mike straight into his heterochromatic eyes, “One night.”
Before Mike could say anything, lips were pressed onto his own. A loving promise, a bittersweet goodbye, and he feels himself sobbing once more.
–
As the sun rises, Eli wakes.
He gently brushes away golden strands to press a kiss to Mike's forehead, “I’m sorry.” He murmurs and gets up the bed.
With one last look, of the man he wishes to be with sleeping peacefully, he turns to slip out quietly. As if he was never there in the first place.
–
As the sun rises high, Mike wakes.
He sits up on a cold bed, eyes looking vacantly at the space next to him, “It’s okay.” He whispers to no one but the wind, tears once again falling down his face.