7 Days to Another Life

Day 7

City Lights 

~~~And I'm hellbound on buying your dying devotion~~~ 

Dread. 

Filling each breath Nick took when he faded into reality that morning. 

Acceptance and comfort in a stranger's arms, a feeling that once seemed beyond impossible. Those bare arms that were draped over Nick's body, holding him like he mattered as he breathed on a naked chest. 

But nothing mattered today. 

It was over. 

Everything. 

Swept away in the ocean, gone. 

But it didn't have to be over, did it? No, it could be... it could be... 

Nick couldn't think of anything. So it was really over. The two prisoners' personal doomsday. 

Chris began stroking Nick's hair affectionately, his eyes wandering the ceiling like he was thinking. He knew it too. It was inevitable. 

"Today is the day," Nick murmurs. Chris only nods, tracing his fingers gently around a knot in the younger's filthy hair. Nick chews the inside of his lip, silence existing between them for moments. 

"When do you think he'll do it?" he asks, tilting his head up to look at Chris and shifting. Chris stops touching Nick's hair; instead his hand falls and holds onto Nick's arm, holding him close and shrugging. 

"Whenever we hear footsteps, I guess," he answers. Nick nods, looking down. There's no escape. 

"What would you have wanted to do with your life?" Nick asks, again shifting to face Chris. 

The elder smiles briefly, a soft, personal smile that held a warming glow. Nick would forever associate Chris with safety, even after this was all over and they were both dead. 

"I wanted to be a musician, like some heavy metal vocalist or something," he answers, bringing a soft grin to Nick's face. 

"We could've totally started a band," he says, only half joking, and Chris smiles with his eyes sparkling as he laughs softly. 

"Just, imagine it though," Chris breathes. "Being on tour, on a bus in the city.." 

"At night," Nick adds, tracing his fingertips over Chris's scars. "With all the lights lit up through the windshield, and people you actually like behind and next to you. And everything would feel like city lights." 

Chris flipped Nick a quizzical expression, entertainment flashing over his face. "Nicks, how on earth do things feel like lights?" 

A warm blush creeps up Nick's neck and he smiles awkwardly though comfortable. 

"Different lights have like- different vibes," he explains, Chris giving him weird eyebrows. His face heats up and he drops his head onto Chris's chest, hiding his face. Chris only chuckles, his hands slipping under Nick's shirt and resting on his back. 

"So different forms of light give you different feelings?" he asks, and Nick nods into his chest. 

"Yeah, you can have fireflies in the woods, or your phone flashlight in a dark room, headlights over gravel, or city lights. I mean, there's lots of lights, but the fireflies in the woods are usually softer or warmer and more magical, the city lights are hopeful, and, kinda yeah.." he mumbles the last part, not needing to see Chris's face to know he's smiling like a total meanie.