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“What kind of a place is this? So many flowers. I didn’t know you like plants so much. And what’s this? You can bake?”
Saparata smiled and turned towards his visitor. “I learned just recently, after you left.”
“You’re becoming more and more competent, huh?” Fluixon said softly. In admiration. It sounded natural.
It sounded so wrong.
Saparata knew Fluixon would never say these things to him.
“Yeah. I’ve been trying my best, I think.” Saparata ducked his head - he didn’t want to look. He focused on mixing the strawberries.
“Maybe I should have chosen you instead,” Fluixon laughed gently. “We could have fought the world together.”
Fluixon was always so intelligent, but more than that, he was determined. He didn’t need anyone to tell him he was right, that he was strong, that he could do it. He didn’t seek anyone’s approval. Since Saparata knew him, he had always been this way – capable of survival, capable of achieving his goals. Capable of dreaming of grand goals in the first place.
Fluixon was the kind of person who could quickly assess the usefulness of others. He observed everyone and never let anyone observe him. He had full determination over his relationships with others: if someone did something wrong, he would never seek an apology, he would never tell them – he would just silently cross them off his list and move on.
That day, when Saparata said he agreed with everyone else about helping the other island, Fluixon hadn’t said anything. But he had certainly crossed Saparata off his list.
In that moment, Saparata had no idea that he had permanently closed a door with his closest friend. He had no clue. He wasn’t analytical enough to notice what Fluixon had probably been thinking about. He hadn’t considered it properly at all.
Well, that was why Saparata had given up on civilizations and wars in the first place. He wasn’t capable enough to achieve what he wanted, so he gave up on wanting.
Fluixon laughed under his breath. “We definitely could have done it if we were together. …what do you think?”
Saparata clenched his fist around the wooden spoon. “…I would have liked to. If you had asked me. If you had told me, I would have said yes.”
“Really? Lucky me.”
With this version of Fluixon, would it be okay to say what he wanted to say? Saparata lifted his head. He looked at Fluixon. His dark black hair, his scarred skin, his ever-distant smile. His way of holding himself, dignified and confident and polite. The depths of his eyes, staring back at Saparata.
To Fluixon, would it have ever been okay for Saparata to say something like this?
“Yes, Flux. I would do anything for you.”
This Fluixon, this distortion of a dead man who wanted nothing to do with him, this dream that Saparata had crafted with his own hands, the only thing he truly wants – this Fluixon’s cheeks lifted in a genuine smile. “Thank you, Saps. You’re my favorite.”
Saparata felt overwhelmed with affection. He wanted so many things. He lifted the spoon full of strawberry filling. “Want to try some?”
Leaning over, Fluixon popped his mouth around the spoon. He leaned back. “Hmm… it’s perfect.”
“Really? Not too sweet for you?” Saparata wanted a serious answer.
“…it’s too sweet for me. But you mashed the strawberries well, and the amount of cornstarch is perfect. The lemon juice is a good touch.”
Saparata couldn’t stop smiling. “I see. Do you think it’s done?”
“Yeah, it’s great. Are you putting it in whatever’s in the oven?“
“Mhm. Strawberry cake for Cass and the others.”
Fluixon nodded. “Makes sense. Everyone loves strawberry cake. You could have served this at the meeting, if you knew how to bake back then.”
“…Yeah.”
“Hey, don’t worry. I liked you even when you couldn’t bake if your life depended on it.” Fluixon teased, leaning over the countertop. His teasing voice was always Saparata’s favorite.
“Really? I liked you too.” Saparata’s heart leaped. Was it okay for him to say this too?
Fluixon simply laughed, elegant, like the sun. “I know. You’re so obvious, you know. I knew for so long.”
Saparata felt warm and light, as if he could fly. “I liked you so much.”
Fluixon grinned as he asked a question he already knew the answer to. “And now?”
“…I love you, I think.”
Fluixon’s expression softened. “Yeah. I love you too.”
The scent of strawberries and freshly baked cake swirled around the kitchen. Outside, the morning birds sang familiar tunes. If one focused hard enough, one could hear the distant clamoring of Cass’s people preparing for the celebration in the afternoon.
As Fluixon leaned in, caressing Saparata’s cheek like he was something precious, Saparata allowed himself to trust that Fluixon would choose him, forever and always. He looped his arms around Fluixon’s neck and let himself enjoy their kiss. It tasted summery and sweet.
When Saparata opened his eyes, the room was dark. His pillowcase was wet.
What expression would Fluixon make as they leaned back from their kiss? Saparata struggled to decide. Would he look smug and satisfied? Soft and desperate? Would he say something sentimental? Would he get embarrassed? No, no. They were all wrong.
Saparata would have to workshop this one again.
Ignoring the stench of his room, the permanent silence, and the aching of his heart, Saparata closed his eyes and willed himself to dream once more.