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A scream. One of past fears, wakes a young man named Sunny. It takes him if only a few seconds to realize what has happened. A look to his left to see one named Basil, sitting up, hand on chest, eyes wide with fear.
A nightmare, it’s not hard to decipher, at least not for Sunny. He knows his boyfriend, and he knows about the nightmares that plague him so often. Sunny hates to see his Sunflower upset and finds himself moving over to the other side of the bed. He sits in front of the blonde and watches a tear fall.
Basil feels a soft finger come up to wipe away that one tear that had escaped his bright teal eye. Basil finds the finger to be as soft as the kindest leaf. He takes a deep breath, trying his best to hold back the tears. He doesn’t want to cry. He believes he cries too much. He doesn’t understand that crying is something not to be ashamed of. Sunny finds the action admirable, as he himself has a hard time crying.
Sunny moves his fingers along Basil’s cheeks, following each small freckle that paints the skin like sprinkled ink on a canvas. The freckled boy closes his eyes, holding in his breath. The dark-haired boy uses the opportunity to kiss the blonde right above his right eyelid.
Basil lets out his caged breath, reaching out to cup Sunny’s face. Sunny easily finds comfort in the action, melting into the hand with closed eyes. The one-eyed boy kisses Basil’s wrist with the utmost care and warmth. It makes Basil’s heart squeeze.
The blonde can’t handle it anymore and lets out a strangled sob. Sunny is quick to drop everything to cradle Basil’s head, leaving light kisses all over his forehead.
The tears fall almost like a small waterfall. Basil finds he can’t stop. The nightmare flooding his mind, images of the past finding their way to the surface, mocking the emotional flower boy. Past regrets, past sorrows. How they love to come together to make the young man regret his life.
Yet, with every regret, he gets a kiss. His boyfriend, the boy he loves, gives him kisses with no question, no hesitation. Basil finds himself crying not just for the fear that paints his mind with the ink of nightmares, but also from the ink of love that paints his life.
Basil’s tears start to slow, more like water droplets falling from the roof after a rainy morning. As the tears slow, Sunny’s kisses find their way past his forehead. The shorter kisses along the taller’s chin, making the latter laugh. A laugh full of calming sorrow.
The kisses and laughs complement each other like the sun and the moon. The boys start drowning in the simple beauty of love. Lips touch the soft surface between the neck and collar, and at that touch, the blonde lets out a small cry. Him overwhelmed with the love he feels after already feeling weak from the nightmare. He feels consumed, it’s an overwhelming feeling, so he cries.
Sunny stops, looking yet again into the watering eyes of his boyfriend. He doesn’t expect the eyes to be completely dilated and paired with a small smile. The teal-eyed boy lunges forward, pushing his watery lips against the other’s chapped ones. The lips part, the kiss deepens, then is stopped by yet another sob.
Basil weeps, trying to take a breath but ending up short. Then, he’s hyperventilating. Sunny takes Basil’s hand in his own and puts the pair on his chest, encouraging Basil to match his breaths with his own.
Basil doesn’t notice the worry that finds itself on the one-eyed boy’s face. He can’t think enough to notice that small fact. He can only feel. He feels so much, a swirl of love and anxiety making its home in his chest. He wants it all to stop, but he also wants it to never end.
Keep the love, leave the anxiety. It’s what he wants but can’t have. They are both part of him. Screaming parts. Neither will keep quiet.
A nightmare of truth was what he was plagued with. A story of screaming and what happened when those screams went quiet. Maybe screaming is better than being quiet. At least sound reminds him he’s alive. When it’s quiet, he feels like nothing. Would he rather be nothing?
If he’s nothing, he can’t be with Sunny. He believes Sunny is everything. That he’s the roots in the dirt. The flowers in May. The rain in the lake. The love, the hurt, the sad, the happy. That he is absolutely everything.
Nothing can’t be with everything. So as Basil can’t be nothing, he has to be something. He wants to be the something that grows in the dirt. The something that blooms in May. The something that fills the lake. The something to hold the love, the hurt, the sad, the happy. He will be the something in everything.
The flower boy is brought to the present by a kiss on his cheek. The smile he gives is one of exhaustion. It’s late, the moon shining through the window, one of them forgot to close, and it demands they fall back into their dreams. Basil finds he doesn’t want to, but he looks to his beloved to see how tired he is as well. The blonde knows in his heart the other will not sleep if he doesn’t as well. So he decides he must sleep.
Basil falls forward, finding home in the chest of the one he loves. He says nothing, neither do. They don’t need to speak. They don’t want to speak. They just want the comfort of touch. A comfort they both craved for so long.
Sunny slowly lays them down, a soft, kind movement, until he is spooning his boyfriend. The taller cuddles himself into the hold, making himself as small as he can. The shorter gives a kiss onto the messy blonde hair. It comforts them both. They close their eyes, content as long as the other is within their grasp.
The moon continues to shine on the two lovers as they fall into a kind sleep.
