Archive of Our Own

Happy birthday, big guy! Make it a good one. Don't end up in a ditch. From: Namari & Chilchuck. That was the message Laios found attached to a bottle of wine he found on the kitchen table. Falin must have accepted it when he wasn't home and left it for him to find. It gave him pause. He tried to remember if he ever told either Namari or Chilchuck about his birthday. He definitely didn't recall bringing it up the last time they ran into each other, anyway. Would Chilchuck remember it from the time the Toudens lived right next door to him? It was doubtful that he would care enough to remember the exact date. Maybe Falin told him. The two of them stayed in touch, after all. Would Chilchuck have told Namari about it the next time he went to the bar? Once again, he had no reason to care that much. Baffled and lost in thought, he put the bottle in the fridge. He all but forgot about it until he opened it again to figure out what to make for dinner.

It was good wine, or so Kabru said when Laios showed him the bottle that evening. It wasn't as if he would be able to tell, anyway. Laios only ever used wine for cooking, not for drinking on its own. He had no clue what it was supposed to taste like, other than, obviously, grapes. When it came to that kind of stuff, it seemed like the primary mark of quality wasn't taste, but price, anyway. Kabru admired the bottle for a while, reading the label, and asked if Laios wanted to share it. That sounded like a good idea. Laios nodded, and got up to bring a bottle of water from the kitchen. It should prevent them from getting hungover, which was important, since Kabru had work the next day.

In the quiet, dark evening, sitting with their backs against the wall and their feet tucked under the blanket, they passed the two bottles back and forth. A swig of wine, a sip of water, and another, and another. The wine tasted sweeter than he expected. He always thought of wine as something vaguely sour, maybe a little bitter, just like beer, and it was both of those things, too, but the sweetness made the flavour much more enjoyable. Licking his lips between each sip, he listened to Kabru's explanations about different kinds of wine. For someone who couldn't cook for himself at all, Kabru sure knew a lot about which meals went well with every type of wine.

Eventually, he tilted the bottle over in an attempt to take another sip, only to find it empty. The very last drop dissolved on his tongue. Laios put the empty bottle in his lap and squinted inside, just to be sure that there was nothing left. He didn't feel drunk at all, at least not in any way that was immediately noticeable. He felt tired, but that probably wasn't due to the alcohol. He had a very eventful birthday, and it lasted two whole days. The first real birthday party in his life. The trip to the zoo with Kabru. Holm's visit. All of those things were really nice but, because they happened one after another in such a short time, ended up being a fair bit overwhelming. A part of him was glad that it was coming to an end. He quietly leaned on Kabru and heaved a sigh.

"Kabru," he said softly, "do you ever think about dying?"

"Of course. Perhaps more often than you would expect," Kabru said without missing a beat. Laios sought out his hand in the darkness and squeezed it gently. Kabru went on in a surprisingly carefree, almost cheerful voice: "It's something we all have to reckon with, isn't it? Death is one of the few things that are, at least as far as we know, inevitable. Some of us make peace with that fact easily and never once think about it again – it comes when it comes, they say – but I would say that most of us can't help but come back to the subject of our own demise over and over again. Under what circumstances will my life come to an end? Will I die of old age? An accident? A critical failure of my own body? Will I be one of those unlucky souls struck prematurely down by another in premeditated murder? Is there something I can do to prevent it? The answer, ultimately, is no, of course. None of us can escape death. But it's in our nature to try regardless, isn't it? Even in our lowest moments, when death seems like the better alternative, we still cling onto life all the same." He paused. Silence filled the room, interrupted only by their breathing. Kabru slowly turned his head towards Laios. "Why do you ask? What brought this on? What's on your mind?"

"I don't know." He really didn't. It wasn't as if he ever needed a reason to think about it.

Kabru studied his profile in silence, furrowing his brow. "I see." Looking away once again, he stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Could it be because it's your birthday? Ironically, I feel, birthdays have a way of reminding us of our own mortality. Time marches on, day by day, bringing all of us closer to death, but it's our birthdays that remind us just how much time has passed since our birth."

"Huh." Laios scratched his cheek. "Yeah, that might be it. I guess you're onto something."

"That's what I thought." Kabru let out a sigh. Laios felt his hand rubbing his back. "I understand," he murmured softly, resting his cheek against Laios' shoulder, "but I assure you that there's no need to think about it right now. You're only twenty-six. You've got a few decades to go before dying of old age becomes a concern," he assured, chuckling softly. "You are relatively healthy, all things considered, at least as far as I can tell. We don't live in an area that's prone to natural disasters like earthquakes, tsunamis, or even simple flooding. It's unlikely that you're going to die anytime soon."

"I guess," Laios said, closing his eyes, "I just didn't think I'd make it this far." Twenty-six. It wasn't a big number, in the grand scheme of things, but even twenty-five felt like a stretch already. Quarter of a century of a life that was essentially worthless. It wasn't so much that he craved death, and he never seriously considered taking his own life, but he also never felt as if his life was something worth preserving. Sometimes he thought it would have been better if he quietly disappeared one day without inconveniencing anybody. He wouldn't have been a burden on Falin anymore. He wouldn't have to take up space, and he wouldn't have to eat food that could have gone to somebody who deserved it more. He wouldn't have to inconvenience the people around him. This was the way he thought about his life for years, ever since he was still in school. The thought that, the way things were going, it could be over soon, was comforting – but the end wouldn't come. Somehow, after twenty-six years, he was still alive, and for once, he didn't really want to die, but the thought of having a long life ahead of him still seemed as overwhelming as ever.

Kabru reached up and gently stroked his cheek. Laios leaned into the touch of his hand. Long, delicate fingers with fingernails that were just long enough to brush against his skin. Kabru's hand moved to scratch him behind the ear. Laios let out a sigh. "I see," Kabru murmured. Laios couldn't see his face, but he could imagine it just from his tone: furrowed brows and a small frown. "I suppose you can never take it for granted that you will live to see another birthday. As I said, though, I don't think you have to worry. By my estimation, you should have another six, maybe seven or eight decades ahead of you," he remarked cheerfully, hints of laughter in his voice.

Laios felt lightheaded. Seventy years? What was he going to do with himself for such a long time? "Wow. You really think so?" he asked weakly, leaning on Kabru.

"Oh, yes. Of course. And I will stay by your side the entire time." Kabru fell silent for a moment. Perhaps he, too, was a little overwhelmed by the thought of it. He was younger than Laios, after all. It must've seemed even longer to him. "As I said, we can't possibly predict when we are going to die," Kabru went on, leaning against the wall, "and we haven't found a way to prevent death, either. Of course, that's not to say that we haven't tried." He took Laios' hand and swung it around as he spoke. "It's part of human nature, I suppose, to seek answers and solutions. We have always had legends about people being granted immortality. Some believe that there is an element of truth to them, and dedicated their lives to seeking it for themselves. On the other hand, some believe that the moment we are born," he went on, "our lives are set in stone, including the exact circumstances of our death, and our fate in the afterlife as well. And speaking of the afterlife, why, there are as many theories about it as there are human beings on this earth! Even within religious groups, I imagine every individual has a slightly different idea of it. Speaking generally, though," he rambled on, "I suppose we can divide beliefs about the afterlife into a few distinct categories. I'm sure you're familiar with the basic concept of reincarnation, yes?" Laios nodded. "Your death is simply the start of another cycle, I suppose. I can't help but wonder if we would find each other in another life. Perhaps we already have. Perhaps this is it. I did have a feeling that I was born to meet you." He laughed. "You were raised Catholic, from what you told me, so I assume you're more familiar with that idea of the afterlife." Laios felt Kabru's curious gaze on his face.

"Kind of," he said dubiously, scratching his cheek. "It didn't really make a lot of sense to me." Neither did most of the other things he heard at church, to be fair, but that part seemed particularly convoluted. There were so many things that could send him to hell, and it sounded like a bad place to be, but it wasn't that much worse than what he already had to endure at school. To make matters worse, he never heard anything that particularly made him want to go to heaven, either. It didn't seem like anything worth working towards for anybody who didn't love God a whole lot, and Laios had no reason to. It sounded like the afterlife was going to be just as disappointing as this life. "You, uh, you go to hell if you've done bad things and didn't feel bad about them, I guess," he murmured, "or if you don't believe in God, and you go to the purgatory if you're not good enough to go to heaven, I think, but you can leave after a while." Wonder if they would tell you what you did wrong. And why it was wrong. And how to fix it. Probably not, he thought bitterly. They would be expected to know all of that already. That was how those things worked. "You know," he mused, tilting the kid, "I never figured out how the priests knew who went where."

Kabru laughed. "I suppose they had the means to ask. Sounds convenient, doesn't it?" He turned towards Laios and nudged him gently. "I assume that isn't what you, yourself, believe."

Laios reluctantly shook his head. "Not really. I mean, it never made sense to me when I was a kid," he said, folding his arms over his chest with a deep sigh, "and it makes even less sense when I think about it now. Even if it made more sense," he mused, "would it really matter, though? I wouldn't even know if it's true until I die, and it'd be too late to do anything then."

"Ah, I see. That's a pragmatic outlook. I suspect that's not how you are meant to think about faith," Kabru hummed fondly, "but I wouldn't expect anything else from you. This might sound strange to you, but ultimately the primary purpose of those rules is to encourage and discourage certain behaviours within a community. As you said, it's impossible to know for certain whether what you believe is true until you die, and by then, it is indeed too late to adjust your beliefs. Now then," he prompted, "are you perhaps the type of person who doesn't believe in the afterlife at all?"

"I don't know." Laios rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "It doesn't matter what I believe, right? I'm gonna be dead, anyway. Honestly, I don't really care about any of that," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I guess it matters more what we're gonna do with my body after I die. And all of my stuff. I'll leave that up to you and Falin, I guess. You can take whatever you want," he assured, and furrowed his brow, deep in thought. "I guess you can't leave my body here."

Kabru laughed uneasily. "No. Though your room would make a fitting tomb, I suppose. Historically, people have often requested to be buried with their most cherished possessions, after all." He hugged his knees up to his chest. "I will make sure to arrange things however you want, of course. As I said, it's far too soon to think about it, but if it would relieve you to discuss it with me, I suppose I don't mind. What were you thinking? Where should I lay you to rest?"

"Hmm..." Laios scrunched up his nose. "We have a family grave back home, but I don't really like it. It'd be a hassle to transport my body," he mused, "and I don't wanna go back there anyway. Honestly," he added, frowning, "you don't have to bother with a real funeral or anything like that. It's fine. Just bury me wherever you want. I don't even need a tombstone."

"What?" Kabru stirred in his seat. "Nonsense! Should I bury you in my backyard, like a beloved family pet?" his voice cracked as he forced himself to laugh. That sounded pretty good, actually, Laios thought, but didn't say. "No, no. I won't allow it. What are you saying? Not even a tombstone to mark your grave?" Kabru clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disbelief. "Of course, I will respect your decision, but I will admit that I'm struggling to understand it. Do you want your grave to be difficult to find for those who wish to visit it?"

Laios chuckled bitterly. "Do you really think anybody will?"

"Of course!" Kabru put both hands on Laios' knees. "What kind of question is this? Those of your friends and loved ones who outlive you will certainly want to visit your grave and pay respects. I will visit it constantly myself. Not to mention," he went on, putting his hand over his heart, "the countless people you have influenced already, and will continue to influence throughout your life. Long after your death, your name and your legacy will live on through your descendants."

Laios huffed. "I don't have any descendants." Or a legacy for that matter, but that seemed like something Kabru would try to argue with him about if he pointed it out. The other thing, though... That was obviously... Laios' eyes shot wide open at the implication of Kabru's words. "Wait, huh. Kabru, do you want to have a baby with me?"

Kabru's eyes grew wide in the dark room. "Huh?"

"I mean," Laios said, waving his hands frantically, "if I'm gonna have descendants, then..." He took a deep breath. "Who else am I gonna have them with, if not you? Right?"

Kabru opened his mouth, closed it again, and covered it with his hand. Even in the darkness, Laios could tell that he was blushing. "Ah." Kabru cleared his throat. "I suppose that is the logical conclusion, now that you mention it." He tapped his cheek with his index finger as his eyes shifted around the room. "Um." He hid his face in his hands. "Not right now, of course. Neither of us have the means, I'm afraid." Laios nodded. "Eventually, though... I wouldn't be opposed to it."

"Cool." Laios put the back of his hand up to his cheek. Surprisingly warm. The thought of having kids never seemed particularly fun to him. It was probably because his own father was such a failure of a parent, he reckoned. What if he turned out to be just as bad, purely because he didn't know any better? But raising a child with Kabru didn't sound that bad. Kabru would know what to do, like he always did. Laios still couldn't help but feel that his descendants wouldn't particularly care to visit his grave. "Anyway," he said, shaking his head to rid himself of the thought, "I mean it. You don't really have to bother with a funeral for me. I know they're really expensive," he explained, scratching the back of his head, "and I don't want you to keep spending money on me even when I'm dead. It's not like it's gonna make a difference for me, right? I won't be there to see it. I don't think anybody would show up anyway, but uh," he stammered, squeezing his eyes shut, "I don't really want anybody to mourn me, so it's okay. Actually, what I'd like the most," he went on, tapping his fingers together, "would be if you just left my body in the woods."

Kabru audibly gulped. "Sorry, what? What?" he said weakly.

"Yeah. You know how dogs eat their owners if they die, because nobody's there to feed them anymore? Everyone says it's awful, but I always thought that it was pretty fair. I wouldn't mind it. I mean, it's not like I'd be able to feel it, and I wouldn't want them to go hungry because of me. So I thought," he explained patiently, "since I'm gonna live with you, you'll probably find me before that happens, and you'll be able to feed them yourself, too... I'll leave you instructions and everything. But, uh," he gulped, "I thought that if you left my body out in the woods, something else would eat me instead. You could bury me there, but you wouldn't have to-"

"Stop! Please stop," Kabru said suddenly, his voice shaking. "Please stop talking."

Laios looked up at Kabru in surprise. His eyes looked even brighter in the dark room, and currently, they were staring directly at him, visibly upset. Kabru's bottom lip quivered and his eyebrows twitched. Laios tilted his head. Kabru covered his mouth with his hand so that he couldn't speak.

"I've had enough," he said firmly, leaning closer. His hand shook against Laios' mouth. Indeed, his entire body was shaking uncontrollably. "I don't want to hear another word from you. I've done my best to steer you away from this train of thought, but clearly, I failed. You insist on talking about your own death, no, fantasising about your own death, in a way that leads me to believe you are getting something out of it." Kabru narrowed his eyes at his face. "Are you? Is the thought of your own death entertaining? Pleasant? Fun? Or is it something else? When you told me about the knife, I was under the impression that you had no intention of taking your own life. Indeed, that the thought was so unpleasant to you that it caused distress. Is it, or is it not?"

Laios hesitated. How could he explain that he didn't want to kill himself, but he didn't mind dying? If it was something outside of his control, just another thing that happened to him, just another incident in a long string of incidents that pushed him through life while he passively accepted them? Of course, it would have been the very last one, but the thought of that never scared him. He shook his head lightly, eyes bulging out of his skull. He opened his mouth, and Kabru withdrew his hand, just far enough to let him speak, but clearly ready to silence him again if he said something wrong. "I don't wanna die," he said cautiously, "but it doesn't matter what I want, right?"

"Very well," Kabru murmured, stroking Laios' lips with his fingers. "We are all going to die, so we might as well talk about it, is that it? I see." A painful twitch passed through his face and he bit his quivering bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. "But do you have to talk about it in such a way? Such an awful, disturbing way? Did you not realise what you were saying?" Kabru rubbed his temple. "I tried to understand. I truly did. But there is only so much I can take. You don't want me to spend money on your funeral and a proper gravestone? I will grit my teeth and do as you say. But I do have to draw a line somewhere." Kabru squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled sharply. He was clearly struggling to keep his composure. "How could you? How could you suggest that I should throw your body away and let animals feast on it? Why would you tell me that?"

"I mean," Laios said, awkwardly scratching the back of his head, "that's gonna happen anyway even if you bury me in a grave. It'll probably take longer, but that's the only difference."

"It's not the same! It's not the same, and you know it very well!" Kabru shouted. Laios hunched over in his seat, lightly shaking his head. He couldn't tell the difference. "Everything else aside," Kabru said, rubbing his temple as he grimaced tiredly, "what do you think it would look like if I dragged your body into the woods and buried you in a shallow grave? Did you think of that?"

Laios blinked slowly. His eyes grew wide when he realised. "Oh, yeah. Huh."

Kabru knitted his eyebrows. "It's obvious now that I put it like that, isn't it? You didn't think of it this way, because you were far too busy fantasising about being thrown to the wolves, weren't you? Never has that phrase been more literal!" He laughed bitterly. "I hope you aren't seriously expecting me to do it anymore, now that you understand what it would look like."

"Sure," Laios said reluctantly. "But that's not why you're upset, right? When you said there's a difference," he said, tilting his head, "that's not what you meant."

Kabru fell silent for a moment, breathing heavily. Suddenly he hid his face in his hands and sighed loudly. His entire body shuddered. "Where do I begin? How can I possibly explain it to you? If you don't understand it already, then... then..." Laios' shoulders dropped. This was another one of those things he was supposed to understand, huh? Kabru took a deep breath and coughed into his hands. "Do you not understand? Why it is viscerally upsetting for me to imagine disposing of your body in that manner? Or, no... why it's far more upsetting than burying you in a grave. That is what you're struggling to understand, isn't it?" Kabru fell silent for a moment. He withdrew his hands from his face and looked up at Laios, his expression grave. "I understand. Of course, why haven't I noticed before?" His lips twitched into a horrifying smile. "It makes no difference to you, because you will be dead regardless. You expect the same to be true for the rest of us! Oh, you fool!"

Laios furrowed his brow. "I mean, yeah... Am I wrong?"

"Kabru ran his fingers through his hair. His smile only grew more unsettling. "Are you wrong? Oh, you have never been more wrong!" Kabru leaned towards him, so close that their noses almost touched. Laios shuddered. "Tell me," Kabru said, staring directly into Laios' eyes, "what do you think would happen if you died tonight?" Laios opened his mouth, but Kabru put his index finger to it. "I know what would happen to you. I'm talking about those of us who would remain alive."

"I mean," Laios said slowly, scratching his cheek, "I don't know." How should he know what other people would do or how they would feel? "Most people," he murmured hesitantly, "probably wouldn't care, right? They may not even notice. Except for you, and Falin when she comes back, and she'd probably tell Marcille too." He closed his eyes, frowning, and hummed. "You'd probably be sad about it, but I mean, you'd get over it after a while, right?"

The immediate slap to his cheek surprised him more than it hurt him, and it certainly sobered him up. He put his cheek up to the tender flesh and looked up at Kabru with wide eyes. Kabru hovered above him, breathing heavily, with both hands on Laios' shoulders. "This! This is what I mean! You don't know! You really don't know! And worse still, you think that you know everything! You're so convinced of your own worthlessness that you expect me to agree!" Kabru blinked. His eyes filled with tears. "You don't understand! You still don't understand! And you don't care to understand, do you? It doesn't matter what would happen to any of us, does it? You would be dead, after all. You wouldn't have to care about anything anymore. Least of all the people you left behind."

"That's not..." Laios protested weakly. Kabru covered his mouth with his hand.

"Oh, is it? Is it not?" Kabru clicked his tongue. "You seem to think that it is enough if you tell me not to mourn you. You expect me, no, all of us, to treat it as your dying wish. Don't care about me. Let me evaporate from your mind as if I was never there. Snap your fingers," Kabru said, snapping his fingers, "and that's it, right?" Tears continued to stream down his cheeks as he spoke. "I can tell you exactly what would happen if you died tonight. Do you want me to?" Without waiting for an answer, he spoke frantically. "I would wake up in the morning and turn towards you. Good morning, handsome, I would say, like I always do. You would not answer, of course. Getting a bad feeling, I would touch you, only to realise that you were cold. That wouldn't be right. You've always been so warm." His voice cracked. "I would shake you, gently at first, then faster, harder. No response. Slowly but surely, I would realise. I would recount everything I did the day before. It was your birthday. I made sure that you had a good day, but did I do enough? Did I give you a kiss goodnight? Did I tell you that I love you? Did I make sure that you knew? Of course," he added, choking up, "none of that would matter to you. You would be dead, after all."

"Kabru..."

"I would hold your lifeless body," Kabru went on, uninterrupted, "and I wouldn't let myself weep. There's so much that needs to be done. I would have to find Falin and break the news to her. I couldn't let myself cry," he said, "because otherwise I couldn't comfort her the way I am sure she'll need. Somebody would have to remain calm, you see, and I imagine it wouldn't be her. And that would only be the beginning. I would have to inform your friends. Marcille. Chilchuck. Namari. Senshi. They would be devastated that you were gone so soon," he said emphatically, "after it seemed like you were turning your life around. I won't bore you with all the legal processes that would follow. I can only assure you that I would see to it that everything would be taken care of."

Laios listened quietly, twiddling his thumbs. He felt a pit in his stomach that wouldn't stop growing.

"Only once everything was taken care of," Kabru continued, his voice heavy with emotion, "would I allow myself to grieve. I would go home and my gaze would fall upon the bouquet of roses you gave me a while ago. They have already wilted, but I don't have the heart to throw them out. I certainly wouldn't bring myself to do it then, knowing I would never receive another one." Kabru hid his face in his hands, sobbing. "You said I would get over it. Get over it? Get over it?" Kabru's voice grew louder with each repetition. "I suppose I would have no choice but to carry on as I did before I met you. My friends would comfort me. They knew how much you meant to me. I would never be able to share my grief with any of them, though. I couldn't. And then," he went on, pawing at his eyes in an attempt to stop the tears, "I would still go to work. Come October, I would start my master's degree. I would meet new people. I would graduate. I would become a teacher, I hope, so that I could help kids like yourself who felt abandoned by the system. I would become a politician. Perhaps one day I would be president, just like you always believed I would be. And through it all," he added, choking on his sobs, "I would be lonely, just like I was before I met you."

Laios automatically shook his head. Kabru was always surrounded by people. Surely he wouldn't feel lonely just because Laios wasn't there anymore. Kabru scoffed.

"Oh, you still don't believe me? I suppose I can't blame you." He sighed softly, shaking his head. "You're so stubborn, you know? I'm starting to think you will never believe me, no matter what I say. Surely you think I'm just being dramatic. I will cherish our time together, but I will move on, right? That's what you think?" Kabru sobbed again. The tears fell into his lap and onto the blanket. "You're awful. Awful. You thought, you really thought, that I have never once considered that you will die one day. Did you really think you were telling me something I didn't already know? You have no, no idea." Kabru rubbed his eyes again. The whites were covered in a net of red veins. "If only you knew! I think about it every day. Every day! In my head, I've watched you die in all manner of ways. Every hour of every day. I've seen you be run over by a car, a motorcycle, a rickshaw, a bicycle, a tank. I've seen you die from a stroke, cardiac arrest, organ failure, food poisoning, and every other disease known to man. I've seen you trip, fall, and hit your head on the edge of the table, cracking your skull open. I've seen it all. I've seen it all." He hid his face in his hands again. "Is it not enough that I'm torturing myself with these images every day? Do you have to remind me that I will really lose you one day? Do you take joy in that?"

Before Laios could answer, Kabru wrapped his arms around his neck and buried his face against his shoulder. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me," Kabru mumbled, his body shaken by violent hiccups and sobs. "I need you! I need you. Don't leave me. Don't die. Please don't die," Kabru pleaded, rubbing his face against Laios' neck. "I love you. I love you so much. I'm sorry," he wailed. "I love you. I need you. Please don't leave me all by myself."

At a loss for what to do, Laios sat still, rubbing Kabru's back. He wasn't good at this. He never knew what to say. But he had to say something. What was the right thing to say? He definitely knew what the wrong one was: it was reminding Kabru that he will have to die one day. But knowing that really didn't help him. Panicked, Laios quietly held Kabru's shaking body close. His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest. Ah! His heart. Didn't Kabru tell him something important about it?

Laios carefully moved Kabru's body so that his cheek would rest against his chest. Hopefully he could hear his heartbeat. It was very loud right now – at least it felt like it – but so were Kabru's sobs. "Look! My heart is beating," Laios said, rubbing Kabru's back, "that means I'm alive, right? Can you hear it?" Was it just his imagination, or was Kabru starting to calm down a little bit? "Listen to it as much as you want," he said softly, running his fingers through Kabru's hair.

Everything was still and quiet for a moment. Kabru's body, worn down by the shaking and the crying, slowly relaxed against Laios. The hiccuping sobs continued for a little while longer, but it seemed like the tears stopped coming. With his eyes closed, Kabru listened to Laios' heartbeat. It felt like an eternity had passed before his breathing regained its regular pace.

Kabru opened his eye to look up at Laios. It was still noticeably reddish, and it seemed like he was struggling to keep it open. It must have been itchy. "I'm so sorry," Kabru blurted out weakly. "I didn't mean to cause a scene. On your birthday, no less. How embarrassing."

Laios shook his head. "No, I'm sorry! I didn't want to upset you or anything. Actually" he said, brushing Kabru's hair off his forehead, "I'm really glad that you told me all of that. I had no idea that's how you felt. And now that I know," he hummed, "it got me thinking, too. And... you wanna know something funny?"

"Yes. I could certainly stand to hear something funny right now."

"I didn't realise it until we talked just now," Laios mused, cradling Kabru in his arms, "but I really don't wanna die. It'd suck if I had to die now that I'm pretty happy."

Kabru took a deep breath. "Are you really happy?"

Laios hesitated for a moment. "Yeah." He was surprised by the confidence in his own voice.