I believe you

Would you believe me if I told you,

They're best friends, your honour

Iso narrowed their eyes as if focusing on something vaguely painted in the distance along the horizon.
"I remember-" their voice faltered as the awful cold they tried to forget seemed to cling at their throat, forcefully shifting their tone into a quiet mumble. "It felt.. warm." Iso's eyes drifted to a gentle shut as they greeted the humble emotion which gradually crawled down their back.

The sheer cold seemed to fade as quickly as it came, washed away by something much more..nostalgic.

Their clutch on their skirt tightened; Iso ran slender fingers down it's fabric, tracing black and white patterns subconsciously as they bathed in the memory of accompanied warmth. Iso would be lying if they said they didn't miss it.
Iso often ruminated the amicable sensation which they could now only craft in their mind, yet never to this caliber.

A subtle head tilt aimed towards the fading sky was a silent urge which requested time to think - acknowledged by their friend with a soft, unadulterated hum of approval.

As much as Iso had tried to forget, remembering the welcoming heat of a smile as bright as the sun wasn't something that they could say they didn't miss.
As much as Iso relished the heat, it had always come with a strange sense of guilt: An unnerving cold which tended to shake Iso awake - They had never dwelled on it before, instead choosing to keep themself busy with casual hobbies which Iso only half-heartedly enjoyed; the truth was something which Iso always denied, even to themself: they were nothing more than a careless distraction.

The feeling of wind against their muzzle and soft, whistling grass between their feet wasn't a good replacement for reading and art, it seemed.

Gradually, Iso raised a pale hand to the sky, using their index finger to trace unseen images into fading clouds despite having closed eyes. They drew nothing in particular, only painting vague shapes as they recalled soft and warm, intimately shared touches and ushered words.

Iso could interpret the sound of grass rustling beside them, as if their friend had shifted away.

Iso found themself gritting their teeth, sucking in cold air through shaky breaths. They could almost feel the warm whisperers of fake promises trailing down their neck now. It was overwhelming. The thought had been drained of its warmth, and yet..

Iso's hand navigated to their lap and their posture faltered into a slump.
"Lyser?" They murmured quietly.

Iso listened intently with a twitch of an ear as Lyser's breath hitched against the wind, as if caught by surprise.

"Yeah?" he replied with slowly mumbled hesitance, cautiously holding his tongue. Iso immediately felt the need to apologise for the way words suspiciously rolled off their tongue with a painted confidence. Iso knew how much Lyser could easily find himself worrying about even subtle shifts in another's mood.

It was something Iso used to be able to relate to; the sense of unjustified regret after every breath taken and looming shadows above you every step you take.

Iso offered a soft sigh as they opened their eyes to peer across the meadow before them. Within the horizon, the sun had already began to set, casting long shadows across the field which trailed away from distant trees towards them. Iso appreciated Lyser's undying patience with them - envied it, even.

Iso turned to face Lyser, who shyly responded with a gradual pull of lips into a gentle, soft smile. Not enough to form his iconic dimples, yet enough to reassure Iso.

"Is it wrong of me to miss him?"
The question came quicker than expected - for a moment Iso wondered if it was even themself who had muttered it under their breath.

Iso watched with caution and Lyser's already-faint smile faded into a contemplative frown, and his eyes adverted to the darkening ground.

A few short huffs later, and it wasn't until Iso had turned away that they felt the soft touch of feathers against their shoulder, unexpected enough to make them flinch, yet warm enough to allow them to lean back into the reassuring gesture.

"I don't think so," Lyser responded with a low rasp, and Iso could hear him clear their throat nervously before attempting to speak again. "I see how you can miss something that comforting. Hell, I can even relate to an extent."

Lyser offered a short, hefty chuckle and Iso met it with a short lived smile. "You can.. relate?" They urged.

Lyser's brows furrowed and his feathered grip left their arm, instead finding its way towards the ground.

"Last year," he began quietly; the soft yet cold shift in his tone was enough to make Iso squint with deep concern and fiddle with short grass strands as they listened intently.