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We all die, slowly but gradually, we lose our spark, some leave without saying goodbye, some choose to leave earlier. When do you think will be your ending? How are you going to leave? Let me tell you my story, of my own ending. That was granted to me as I wished upon myself.
I lived plenty of lives, saw various fates, different people and their stories. But somehow only one person was able to capture my attention. It wasn't just simple interest in a person, no, it was on the edge of obsession, I loved that person a little too much for my own good. At first I was mesmerized by his beauty, the way he held himself in public. Like nothing can break him, and the way he brought light when he entered the room. My bones ached to see him break in my arms, and that's exactly what happened. Every time, in every timeline, I was losing him over and over again.
•••
A really warm night was awaiting him ahead. Open terrace with a well dressed crowd and expensive alcohol. It was the most anticipated event of the year, every young man would gladly sell their own house, just to have a chance to look at the noble life in the palace.
It took a lot of tiring work, years of fake compliments and smiles, and a little manipulation of one of the servants, to get where Niran is now. He is currently dressed in traditional clothing, a shawl-like garment. He initially went here to work. His family wasn’t wealthy at all, sometimes the money he earned wasn't enough for a decent meal. Not even saying about the bills for his sibling's education he is responsible for. So his bright opportunity to be here won't be just wasted. With these thoughts Niran carefully escaped from the kitchen, changed his clothes to the best ones he could afford, and merged with a crowd. The moon shone bright, and the flower scent was making him dizzy.
Niran had brilliant adaptation skills, to the point where even the most educated and successful person will fall for the lies he preached. After making small conversations that didn't lead to anything, he finally saw this young man, with a bright smile that stole all the attention to himself. Not only ladies were drawn to him, but older men and women stood patiently listening to his words.
Truthfully Niran knew he is not the competition to the man, so making friendships that won't work out was stupid. But still blind curiosity led him further. And he was already getting closer, and closer to him.
"What a pleasant evening, isn't it?" Niran stood close to a man that looked startled by his words a little. Apparently he didn’t expect anyone to appear from the back. He eyed Niran from head to toes before he spoke.
"The alcohol is pretty decent, and that's the only good thing about this dreadful evening." The man sighed.
Niran was taken aback by this comment.
Shouldn't all the nobles be awfully polite and restrained?
As Niran parted his lips to ask why, the man spoke first. "I know you. You are not as subtle as you might think. I saw you at the beginning of this evening, carrying baskets with desserts for guests." He looked Niran in the eyes and there wasn't any malice or mockery.
He was just stating a fact. Not everyone is paying attention to the working class here, especially not hard enough to remember their faces. Niran's eyebrows flew higher, his eyes had a small spark of fear that this man might reveal his poorly planned disguise. Luckily people around them slowly went to other corners of the terrace, occupied by the new quest's arrival.
Shifting from side to side Niran started to feel anxious, he needed to leave before someone else noticed his absence, but a strong hand caught him faster. The young man knew that in front of him stood not a noble person but a servant, but he still continued their small chat.
"Don't worry I'm not going to rat on you, It's pretty hard to find a good guy with whom I can have a decent conversation here, so keep me company. Please." He softly smiled at Niran.
He stayed.
They went upstairs and sat on the balcony, with the best view you can find. Sharing alcohol and thoughts they had in mind. It felt strangely light. Like there were no barriers set between them from the start. They talked about everything but nothing too personal. Niran was surprised to hear a soft chuckle escaping from his own mouth, he can’t remember the last time he laughed in the presence of someone who is not his family. He really did grow to enjoy the company of this weird stranger in the past two hours. It made him feel free from judgments and orders that he heard all the time. Here he felt seen.
Hours flew in the blink of an eye. The celebration was wrapping up, someone had already left home, and only a few men stayed outside. But Niran's companion insisted on staying till late hours, promising him that he won't regret it. And it was indeed the truth. Because minutes later after complaining about his sleepiness, he saw colorful sparks in the deep dark sky.
Fireworks.
Impressive in their scale. They created such beautiful shapes and changed colors so fast. Niran's eyes were shining with excitement, he never saw something like that so close. He wanted to touch it and feel it on his fingertips. To remember every breath of cold air, shiver on his back, and the muffled laughter of his companion next to him.
If magic existed it must have been the moment Niran believed in it. The light danced on the skin of the young man beside him, but his soft gaze was not on the breathtaking view. Because Niran felt his stares on himself. And when their eyes met, he understood that everything was absolutely worth it.
The name of this young man was Pete.
One summer night. Just like that, Niran for the first and last time fell in love.
•••
Pete was young when I first met him, he was no older than 20. A young man, around who circulated rumors about his passionate lovers or rather the way he was never satisfied with them. A man in his prime of beauty and strength, with a noble background and wealthy family. In one word — perfect.
A lot of people would question the nature of a person like that. Because as everyone knows, the public facade is built on sweet pretty lies and exaggerations. However he wasn't like that... He was sincerely good. Too good .
I knew that loving a person requires sacrifices. And I was ready to pay any price to keep my love safe. Maybe I was blinded by the impulse of feelings, by fear of losing someone, to be left alone. Or maybe it was my selfishness. I never knew how to answer this question even to myself.
So five summers later, when I found out that Pete was slowly fading away, I lost my peace of mind.
•••
"6 months." Pete whispered. He looked so pale, it made his skin look greenish. He visibly lost some weight, and every move he did was causing him enormous pain. Clothes hung on him like on the ghost. Niran swears he can see the edges of his body blur. He stood near the writing table, gripping it to support himself.
"When were you going to tell me this?" Niran tried to hide his anger but he was definitely failing. He furiously ran a hand through his hair, making it impossibly messy.
6 fucking months. That's how long they gave Pete till — till he — Niran can't even bear a thought of it!
The truth is, he indeed felt like Pete was distancing himself for some time. The way he avoided answering questions about how he was feeling, or what upsets his mood so often. But Niran shook it off every time, telling himself that they just both needed a break from work, from family drama that was going on, from any other reason. But it never occurred to him that Pete was actually trying to push him away all this time. He can’t help but think that it’s all his fault.
"Probably never." Pete's words didn't show any emotion, and it only scared Niran more.
"So you decided to wait till I see your lifeless body beside me one morning! That's how you wanted me to find out?" Niran's voice helpfully cracked in his throat. His eyes were burning.
Pete visibly started to lose his composure, he leaned on the desk and protectively crossed his arms over his chest.
"No, because you are not supposed to be near me at that moment.You were supposed to get bored of me. To finally understand that I'm just a spoiled rich brat, and find someone better!” He wasn't shouting, but every word echoed in a small room impossibly loud. “I thought you'd leave before this conversation could even start!"
Pete really wanted to fall apart right now, to cry as much as he wanted to, to grief about his own life. But he won't, he keeps gluing himself together and ignores his own needs. Because even in the moment like this all he feels is anger at himself, for not pushing away Niran earlier. He would prefer Niran hating him, than seeing him on his deathbed in an infirm state.
Niran stood there without moving, holding his tears back.
"I don't want to see you anymore! Go! I don't need you here!" Pete raised his voice, he almost whimpered from how painfully wrong these words sounded to him.
But Niran did the opposite, he approached with careful steps and gently hugged Pete. As if he was afraid of hurting him more, Niran wrapped his whole body around the thin silhouette, and put his head on Pete's shoulder.
"Don't you hear me! Niran, let go!" Pete tried to break free from a hug, but it was useless, he felt too weak.
"You never knew how to lie. And I taught you so many tricks before." he dryly laughed. His hands played with Pete's hair, soothing him, till he felt the tension falling from Pete’s shoulders completely.
“I'll stay no matter what.” Niran murmured.
After this Pete couldn't stay strong anymore, warm tiers started to flow down his cheeks. He was clenching to Niran like the last life thread he could grip on.
•••
Desperate people find faith. And Niran is more than desperate, he is in agony. Even if he declared not to believe in anything all his life, he still found himself praying. For the last weeks that he spent with Pete, he saw how bad his condition became, how he can't leave the bed anymore. One night he woke up seeing Pete throwing up blood. The white sheets were so red, he never saw so much blood before. Which terrified him to death, he felt like he was the one dying.
Niran took more side jobs, to be able to buy medicine that was supposed to help. However, nothing changed. He worked till he couldn't stand anymore, returned home late, to find Pete already asleep. But sleep never came to Niran, because all he can do is lay awake and look at his lover's tired features, and wonder if it's going to be the last time he sees him. Everything seemed hopeless.
•••
Until one day, he comes across a fortune-teller, an old woman in her 60's, with graceful long grey hair. She sat at the table with cards in the local market Niran frequently visits. She had a long queue lined up of people of any age or social status. He doesn't truly believe in divinations, or astrology, or whatever people like to believe these days. But now he will gladly believe anything that might slightly improve Pete’s state. So he gives it a try.
After a long and boring speech with weird questions. Old woman laid three cards on the table:
Lovers as the past, death as the present and... What? Death again as future?
"Wait, old lady, this can't be right. How are there two cards with death, you are just a scammer!" He banged on the table with a little too much force, attracting unnecessary attention from others.
"Don't you dare doubt an old woman! Of course I know it's not possible, young man, it's highly disturbing even for me, your fate is awfully twisted." The fortune-teller scowled, but her expression shifted really quickly into a smile, as she actively started to look for something in her bag.
"But I think I know the perfect thing you are looking for. Here, take a look." She took two red bracelets and pushed it in his hands.
Niran was highly confused.
"Put this red thread on you and your lover that suffers from an awful fate, this might save him, but remember that everything comes with a price."
Niran had so many questions, but she was already pushing him away, asking to leave.
"What price —?" He managed to ask at last.
"I'm not in charge of things like that, young man, it’s the will of the heavens." As a goodbye, she weirdly smiled and that made Niran's skin shiver.
Wonderful, now all he has is two strings from obviously mental old grandma and the cheapest dinner he could get at the market, because apparently fortune-telling is way more expensive than Niran expected.
•••
He comes home, and finds Pete asleep. It's so rare to see him awake lately. Not wanting to disturb, Niran quietly sits near him and takes his wrist, to put the red bracelet on. The other he wears for himself, and spends long minutes staring at them. How stupid he must be, it's laughable, to believe that it can somehow help their doomed situation. But he loves Pete like nothing else in this world, he won't be able to move on, to forget, he will miss him forever.
His mind starts to get louder, spinning over and over the worst scenarios that may happen. He needs to escape, to run, to hide, as far as possible.
With these heavy thoughts he left the house. Getting lost on busy city streets. The wind is strong and it seems like the rain is about to start. But he doesn't mind at all, he feels nothing except the dull pain in his chest. So he drugs himself further away from home. Away . From Pete. Oh he misses Pete already. Mostly the memory of who they were. Before the sickness took all the life from him.
Somewhere nearby, a tavern door slammed and raucous laughter spilled out, it snapped Niran from his thoughts. He found himself almost alone in an unfamiliar alley. The street was far from the livid area of the city.
He turned slowly. To see the shadow that moved at the edge of the alley. The time when two more appeared at the sight, Niran visibly started to get anxious.
He heard them speak from afar, judging by the accent they weren't locals. Niran stepped back. Planning to go the opposite direction. But three figures got to him faster. The first blow came from behind, it was so fast, his instincts betrayed him for a moment, and he swayed to the side.
Next, a knife struck his shoulder, sending him sprawling. Pain flared white-hot, and he barely caught himself, before his head cracked against the stone. He could feel the coldness of the steel that buried into his side with the same force as to his shoulder. The whole world span before he sank in the darkness.
The last thing he heard was ugly laughter of the men that looked down on him. And Niran can't blame them, because this all feels like a cruel joke on him. He felt his life washing away with rain. Knowing that he couldn't even say one last goodbye to Pete.
•••
Pete woke up the next morning feeling healthier than ever. The feeling of excitement on his face was washed away by anxiety, as soon as he saw the other side of the bed empty. Niran never — Never. Left him alone in the mornings. Even if it meant to be late for work. But now his presence was replaced by a red string on his wrist, that surely wasn’t here a night ago.
Doctors that visited him kept saying that he was struck by a miracle. That the illness will be gone in several days. But no matter how pleasant the news was, he can't find himself being happy about it, when Niran is nowhere to be found.
Weeks later he hears from his mother that Niran is dead. And Pete is certainly not sick anymore, but he feels the nausea getting to him, making the world blur as his knees weaken. It feels worse than dying, he realized. Because it was supposed to be him . Not Niran. How can he move forward when they dreamed of going there together.
He knows it will hurt him till the day he grows old. That old, till he drifts away from this world in peace. Thinking that he can finally reunite with Niran.
But the gods had other plans.
Niran couldn't leave, even if he wanted to.
•••
The next time Niran grew consciousness he understood that everything around him was different. He found himself on streets he didn't recognize. People dressing in slightly better clothes, buildings more developed and modern. And what terrified him the most, his family was gone. He was alone and lost.
Realization eventually grew on him. He was at the same place but time flew by without him. He died,it was real. He is pretty sure about it. It felt too bad for it to be his sick imagination. Just somehow he is still here. And this time he can’t leave.
•••
I thought that the red thread will help us find happiness. To cure what was wrong, so we will stay together. But I was wrong. So, so wrong about everything. And I'm sorry Pete, that I put this cursed fate on you also. I am cursed, and somehow I can't stop myself from seeing you.
When I understood that you lived your first life thinking I was dead… I knew it's not what you wanted. But truthfully I'm glad you had those long years ahead of you.
So when I saw you walking down the street hundreds of years later, still looking like you used to, smiling and laughing. I knew I can't let you go. Even if every one of our stories ends tragically. I'll still choose you over, and over again.
I want to wake up every morning and look at your disheveled hair and sleepish grin. For you to complain about the shared blanket I stole all to myself at night. I want to see us fight over nothing, and then make out and cry together with apologies.
Somehow in every timeline you are slightly different, sometimes sharp with your tongue and quick to throw insults or too naive, too soft with people. But it's still you, I can feel it. That you are the very same person I fell in love with.
•••
"Who are you?"
"Pete, do you believe in fate?"
The golden string that tied us together and the red thread on your wrist, made me feel like this might be the last time we meet. Because this time, I know now how to end this curse.