A Train to Past

Chapter 7

The details of Lucian's face stand out in the mixture of limelight and moonlight. He's at least two hands away from me, but the peace on his face while sleeping is noticeable. His face is resting, Elion always frowns while sleeping, as if soon there will be a disaster and he cannot allow himself to rest.
It feels personal to stare at him like this in the middle of the night, but I cannot dare to when his eyes are wide open. He's sound asleep, Unlike me. I wonder how many memories, how many counting the dots on my blanket it will take to make me sleep. My sleep had also convinced me to count everything around me, Including Lucian's freckles. Seventy-eight in total.
The freckles resemble Elion, it gives me hope that Lucian is the reincarnation of him, because I cannot allow myself to fall in love with someone who's not Elion. The tiny spots on his nose, and under his eyes are light for anyone to notice in broad daylight until paid enough attention, maybe it's The dim light glowing in between, maybe I stared at him for too long. For now this is the only peace I'm getting, to count them until the chaos frees me and sleep finds its way back to me.
He looked like a painting on a canvas laying in front of me. I try to count it again but he shifts to his back, revealing his side to me. I notice some more hidden ones around his jawline and begin to count them.

"We met again." Elion's voice echoes in the darkness, I see nothing but my hands. "Are you here?" He yells, it's hard to figure out from what direction his voice his filling my head. "Yes.." a whisper leaves my mouth thinking it's too silly to reply. I wait for some time, he does not speak again. "Elion?" Saying his name out loud would never be normalised. "You have to stop finding me." His voice is back I try to make out what he's trying to prove. "What do you mean?" The darkness fills with silence again. "Elion?" I yell out loud, almost losing my cool. What did he mean by that? "Elion!" I yell as my voice breaks out. How can he ask me to stop finding him? All I ever wanted was to reunite with him, to prove him that I kept my promise, now that I did he wants me to give up? "Elion!" I keep chanting his name as a devotee of a god.

"Lucas?" I was startled with the reply, but it's Lucian. I'm not in the darkness anymore, I remember. I'm on the train, and right now Lucian is shadowing my face, blocking the morning mist out of the window. "What did you dream about?" He casually puts his hands in his pockets of trousers, yawning, shuddering with the wind.

"Oh. Nothing really. What time is it?" I try to avoid the subject, "it's six Am.'' Sleeping early was fine, but he decided to wake early too? It's like self torture with the tag of 'healthy sleeping schedule'.  "And why did you bother to wake me up?" I try to keep my eyes open, my attention on him. "Who decided to wake who?" He shrugs with a dramatic scrunch on his face. "You were murmuring something continuously, I tried to ignore it but as you can see I'm a sensitive sleeper and you didn't shut up." The embarrassment and guilt finds its way, "oh– well, sorry. You can go back to sleep." I suggest but he waves his hand while yawning.

"It's fine, I usually wake up at eight, two hours will do no harm." He starts Folding his blanket, and I lay back again with mine, the cold making me cover my ears. "Hey!" He looks back at me with pure betrayal, "It doesn't mean you can go back to sleep again. Company me since you ruined my two hours of sleep." He pulls away my blanket and cold covers my feet and neck. "Fine! Just give me the blanket." I didn't know the cold would increase with the passing station. According to my thinking I have no thicker clothes, no scarfs. I can see why I should have thought twice before sitting in an unknown train.

"You feel cold?" He asks as if it's the most foolish thing a person can feel. "Yes I do." He somewhat rolls his eyes, "dude it's chilly, yes but you shouldn't feel that cold. Let's exercise?" He suggests as if waking up early wasn't the biggest boring thing to exist right now
"No thanks." I fake a smile with my eyes closed and he takes the hint and goes back to his chore. The current location is too vintage. A perfect place for photography, our train passes from between trees and waterfalls. It's all orange and yellows, the dried leaves cover the whole surface while some flies with the wind. I remove my camera and March to the door, the glass is foggy from outside. Any photo I take will be blurry for sure, whether it's because of the dusty glass or the speed of the train.