Memento Mori (MxM)

Chapter 13

Time passed by slowly, and the more days Calael spent confining himself to Semper Place - desperately avoiding having to leave and join the outside word - the more the house began to feel like home. Decorations began to crop up everywhere, ordered largely from any quirky, bohemian Etsy store he happened to like to make the interior reflect the cozy style that he enjoyed. The home was no longer dated and cold like it had been in those first few days; it felt warm, and bright, and had become the safe space he had always intended it to be. Artemus had taken some convincing on the redecorating front at first but he gradually began to adjust and acclimate to it until eventually, he adored it as well. He put his opinions forward often, but generally speaking, he seemed to be happy as long as Calael was happy. As long as he had his smiling lover and his precious garden, he was content.

The garden, in fact, flourished more and more every day. It was a beautiful hive of life and colour, and Calael on sunny days would enjoy sitting out at the old copper table on the lawn and painting. Artemus' passionate love of flowers gave them new beauty to him; and the blonde was always so happy to see him sharing in the thing that he adored.

Still, his favourite thing to draw and paint was the spirit himself. He was his muse, and an array of art pieces had sprung up around his beautiful image, enough to comprise an exhibition and auction at a historical local gallery. Many of his most important clients would be coming down for the event, who all found the prospect of a brief visit to the countryside rather charming. Mostly it had been an excuse for Calael not to travel too far from home, but it had been terribly convenient in advertising his event.

One thing was to be different about this particular exhibition, however, and that was that none of his personal friends were going to be there. At least, he had reason to assume so, as not a single person had called or messaged him since his argument with August. They used to check in on him regularly, but what had transpired at the Basement had apparently been a good enough excuse for them to rid themselves of the basket case they obviously thought he had become. Calael didn't need them. Or at least, he told himself that again and again. He told himself he didn't need to feel lonely, because he had Artemus, and had never much appreciated their patronising concern anyway.

It was evening, the summer sky outside blazing with shades of amber and peach as the day conceded to night, and the two were sat in the living room with LED candles illuminating the stone cold fireplace. Calael refused to touch it, so the coal had never been restocked, and he simply sat on the rug beside it packaging his framed paintings in cardboard and bubble wrap to be transported to the gallery tomorrow.

Artemus was sat on the couch absorbed by the television, and while he'd usually be lounging across it luxuriously or at the very least with one leg folded over his other, he currently had his legs drawn up to his chest, chin resting upon his knees. Calael could have sworn he hadn't blinked or torn his gaze away from the Silent Hill film he was watching for at least five minutes.

"Uh, Artie? Would you pass me the stapler please?"

Artemus still didn't look away, and just reached out to fumble along the table blindly until he found the stapler, which he handed to his boyfriend after a few long moments.

Calael grinned. "Is it scaring you?"

"No, no!" Artemus objected, quickly snapping out of his daze to look at him with an insulted expression. "I'm just.. Amazed by the quality of the special effects."

"It's scaring you."

"No, no it most certainly is not."

"The lady doth object too much," the artist teased, setting down the frame he was working on and moving to sit beside the blonde on the couch. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and seemed smug as the smaller man promptly relaxed into him.