His eyes open. He can still hear the cannons. The gunshots. The moans of the dying. He can smell the smoke and blood. Burnt flesh and gunpowder. When he blinks, he can see the faces of the people who he had come to love. He sees them laughing and smiling, joking around and teasing... And he sees them dying, in fields of churned mud and dirt. Their blank eyes that once held so much life, staring off into nowhere.
Ezra rolls over, burying his face in his hand. He can't block it out. The darkness seems to press down all around, suffocating him. He can't breathe. He can't see. He can't feel anything but the hollowness in his heart.
Wiping the tears from his face, he slides out of bed, and over to the fireplace. The embers are dying, so he nudges them with a stick. They flare up in the slightest, throwing light onto the walls. Sighing, Ezra sits down in front of the dull glow.
The door creaks. He jumps, his mind still wired to fight a war.
"Ezra?" Awaheya says softly and questioningly, pausing at the threshold.
Ezra's shoulders relax. It's only Awaheya.
"Are you ok?"
Awaheya closes the door behind him. It creaks again, and Ezra flinches.
"I'm fine," Ezra rasps, looking away. His eyes gaze into the fire. "I'm...fine. I just can't sleep."
Awaheya blinks. Ezra is usually happier than this. Something isn't right. He is unsure of what to do. He thinks of the things that Ezra does to cheer him up. Hm... That might work. Awaheya looks at Ezra, who has turned around again. He'll just have to be careful. The only reason he strays from these sorts of things is because he fears that he will destroy all those around him.
Ezra shivers as Awaheya sits beside him, resting his hooded head on his shoulder.
"You don't have to tell me what's wrong," Awaheya whispers, snuggling against Ezra's side.
Ezra looks down at Awaheya.
"I thought that--"
"I don't like to be touched?"
"Uh... Yes?"
"Hm. I don't. But I like your touch. You're warm."
"Oh."
Ezra looks back at the fire. He is warm. Inside and out. Carefully, he drapes an arm over Awaheya's shoulders. He can feel a chill through the cloak. Perhaps he can chase that coldness away.
Awaheya's contented sigh is so small that Ezra almost doesn't hear it. Almost. Ezra melts just a little inside. Evelyn used to make that sound when he'd hold her after a nightmare.
Ezra cannot see Awaheya's face, but he can tell that the embodiment of death is completely and utterly relaxed. His breathing is slow and steady, and his twitches tell Ezra that he is beginning to fall asleep.
Oddly, Ezra feels calm. It's almost as if the dreams are nonexistent. As if the war ever happened. As if he never lost friends.
Ezra closes his eyes.
"Thank you."
YOU ARE READING
Little Blue Strings
General Fiction**COMPLETED** This is the story of Life, Death, a lonely human, and all those other names and faces that linger or are forgotten by time. It is a story of the violent and chaotic world, and the places in which, every now and then, everything is stil...
