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Through your eyes I see a smile you bring to me
To your joy I tether, not a lot, just forever
It really wasn’t so bad in there.
Parrot really had done all he could. And Wifies was right; he wasn’t one to give up easily. So he wasn’t giving up. He was just… waiting.
But it wasn’t so bad in there.
They expanded the cherry grove together. And eventually, Parrot would sit beside Wifies to fish at the pond, without sitting in stony silence. It took time, but they fell back into their old banter, a friendly, quiet back-and-forth. Just two old friends. Ignoring their past. And maybe, eventually, they could move on.
They sat on the roof sometimes, side by side, legs dangling off the edge, goosebumps across their skin in the cold of the night. Parrot pointed out two stars to Wifies, handing him the spyglass to look.
“They’re the only two stars in the night sky that touch each other,” he explained. The words left a bad taste in his mouth, from the last time he’d said it. Wifies hummed as he zoomed in on them.
“Against all odds, still together,” he acknowledged, handing Parrot back the spyglass with a small smile. Parrot let out a sigh, relaxing his shoulders and tipping his chin up to the night sky.
It was different here, but it wasn’t bad. Sometimes, he could convince himself to forget. That the Director never even happened. That there was no mafia. No corruption in the outside world. Just him, and his best friend, in the perfect prison. Together.
Intertwined, sewn together
As the rock bears the weather
Not a lot, just forever
They built. Side by side, they connected their houses by the lake. By the end of it their hands were full of splinters, so they sat, cross-legged, knees pressed together on the floor of Wifies’ home, Parrot hunched over to carefully pluck each scrap of wood out of his friend’s hands. His skin was warm on Parrot’s fingertips, soft, as if the sun itself were beating in Wifies’ chest.
They built memorials, for each person they’d lost. Here lies Luigi. Here lies Dean. Here lies Nufuli. And anyone else whose name they could remember who had died along their journey. They collected flowers, taking leisurely walks to gather them. Wifies cracked a joke about finding a poppy. Parrot threw a dandelion in his face. They laughed, juvenile, careless, as if they were young again. They brought the flowers to the graves, palms stained with dirt, grass bleeding into the knees of their jeans.
The winter came, long weeks of darkness and cold, snow piled at the door. Wifies remarked that he was glad they’d build a shed for their cows. Parrot built a fire and they wrapped themselves in coarse blankets, shoulder to shoulder, staring into the flames in calm silence until nothing remained but ash.
Time passed carelessly, without forgiveness or remorse. Spring came and new flowers grew. Parrot found goats in the mountains and brought horns to Dean’s grave, passing them back and forth with Wifies as they sat on the coarse dirt and tested out the different sounds. Dean never did get the chance to hear what the other horns sounded like.
He brought emeralds for Luigi when he could find them, the green glinting in the sunlight, a small pile at the base of the mossy headstone. He rewrote the man’s diary from his memory, poring over the pages until he was sure he got the wording right, and when it was finished he left that on the gravestone, too.
My dog barks wildly, to protect my infancy
From my ex-believer, and I try to calm the wolf
He didn’t know where the guards went, after a couple years. A part of him hoped that they’d gone home, back to their old life. A part of him missed the times he’d had with them; Jumper’s unwavering loyalty, Derapchu’s stupid jokes. Leo’s faith in him. They had been family, in the end. But he had Wifies now. Wasn’t that all that mattered?
They found a stray cat, half-starved and hissing, in the forest. Parrot chose not to wonder how it had gotten inside Paragon. Wifies got salmon and together they coaxed the animal to their house, giving her food and a warm place to sleep. It wasn’t long before her fur was soft and thick, her eyes relaxed and slow-blinking. They named her Clover and she stayed in their home. She took on the smell of cedar and ash, something warm, and she’d lay across the floor, watching the door whenever the two left the house and patiently waiting for their return.
They found a dog wandering in the hills, and called him Coco, and he followed them on their walks for flowers. He got along well with Clover, and on cold nights the four of them would sit at the fireplace, the cat grooming a sleeping Coco’s fur until it was clean of the mud from the day. Wifies fell asleep on Parrot’s shoulder, and the man stayed awake, an arm wrapped loosely around the other’s torso, listening to him breathe in the quiet of the house.
Parrot spoke to Dean sometimes, sitting in the fresh dirt and braiding threads of grass together as he updated his dead friend on all the recent goings-on. Wifies watched him from the window, but he always did that. Parrot was used to it. He spoke to Luigi too, and sometimes liked to imagine that he could hear a response. He would never admit it, but he was forgetting their voices. And their faces, too; nothing but bittersweet fragments, fading at the fingertips until there was not even a memory to retrace a silhouette from.
So I hold you to my knife, and I steal your letter
Not a lot, just forever
There was a hole in the obsidian wall. Parrot could see it across the lake; Clover purred in his lap as he studied it through his spyglass. An intentional gap, wide enough for him to fit through, left undoubtedly by Wifies himself.
The guards were gone. The defenses were down. Wifies was gone for the evening, left to gather mangrove roots to grind into tea. It was the first time in a long time that Parrot had been left alone for an extended period of time; he knew the other man was still overly protective of him. He could feel it in each embrace, Wifies’ fingers pressing bruises into Parrot’s back; he could hear it in the hesitation before inviting himself on every excursion; he could see it in his eyes, reflecting the flames of the fireplace. His eyes had changed, over the years; what had once contained the light of careless youth was now weary and tired, but had a hardened coldness that Parrot didn’t like to look too deeply into. All it did was remind him that Wifies was the one who put them in Paragon in the first place.
And yet, there was a hole in the wall.
But it isn’t so bad in here.
Parrot stayed. Wifies said nothing about it when he returned after the sunset, only standing frozen in the doorway for an uncomfortable moment before every muscle in his body visibly relaxed, and he took the roots to the kitchen, mentioning over his shoulder he was going to make carrot soup. Parrot offered to help.
We share a paradise, and I roll them once or twice
Can’t get much better
Not a lot, just forever
Wifies went outside at night to speak to the moon. Parrot could hear it through the walls, could hear the soft mumbles directed aimlessly into the night. It was interesting; he never spoke to the gravestones as Parrot did. Instead, he sat on the very edge of the dock, feet dangling into the cold water, head tilted up to the sky. Parrot watched him, sometimes, but he never went outside. Something told him Wifies wanted to be alone.
He asked about it, once, when they were shoulder-to-warm-shoulder on the roof, pointing at clouds and tracing the outlines with their fingertips. What do you say to the moon at night? he’d asked. Wifies was quiet for a long while, before answering, I ask for forgiveness.
Intertwined, sewn together
As the wren bares her feathers
Not a lot, just forever.
Maybe in a kinder life, he’d thought, when he had first believed Wifies to be dead. Maybe in a kinder life we could find the peace we’d searched for.
And here they were. This was the kinder life, a gentle existence. With no wars, no suffering. No pain. No guilt. He’d forgiven Wifies years ago; he had forgiven him even before he knew the extent of what he’d done.
They had their world, hand-built, a safe haven hidden away from the chaos of the outside universe. They had their peace that they had fought so hard to find. They had each other. They had the universe at their fingertips. They had everything; they had nothing. They had each other. Wasn’t that enough? Couldn’t that be enough?
Parrot wanted to stay. It isn’t so bad in here.
The hole in the wall was still there. Wifies was gone again; Parrot couldn’t remember what excuse he’d given to be alone this time. The man stood on the dock, studying the hole through his spyglass, Coco panting at his feet. The lapping of the water at the shore, the gentle breeze ruffling the hair around his ears. It was getting longer, but he didn’t care to cut it; Wifies said it suited him. Clover sat in the open doorway, the newest addition to the family, Coral, at her side.
Why couldn’t it be enough?
I like it in here.
Birds aren’t meant to be kept in cages indefinitely. It would have happened eventually. There was a restlessness faint in his chest, an growing eleutheromania that wouldn’t leave him alone. He longed to spread his wings. A part of him craved the chaos, the adrenaline of war, of scheming, of whirling away from death with half a heart to spare.
He had Wifies here. He had their own world, built by hand. What else could he possibly need?
It’s not enough.
Not a lot, just forever
Not a lot, just forever
There was no goodbye, just a rusty spyglass on the counter. When Wifies came back, it was to an empty house.