Octavio walked alone in the cold winter night, as the street lights shined down on him. The wind howled in the night, the only sound that could be heard other than the snow crunching beneath his feet. He hoped he was heading in the right direction. The city looked so different the last time he visited. After some time, he finally made it to a small wooden house at the end of the street. He was hesitant about knocking, but after coming all this way, he had no other choice. He knocked and waited for a moment, before the door slowly opened. Craig looked up in shock when he saw who was at the door. It was a small moment of silence, before he sighed and began to close the door.
"Craig please!" Octavio said, holding the door open, "I just want to talk." Craig sighed. He let go of the door and motioned for him to come in. The small wooden home was filled with pictures and plants, with frames holding various things Octavio had never seen before. He sat down on the sofa as Craig headed to the kitchen. Octavio sat there staring down at his feet, before Craig came back with a cup of tea for himself and Octavio.
"So, what did you want to talk about." He asked blandly. Octavio took a small sip of the tea. As he did, he looked around for something to talk about, not thinking he would get this far.
"Um, what's with that cane? Old age finally catching up to you?"
"Well I got stabbed in nerves that connect to my legs, I can't really walk too well without it." He said staring at him. Octavio awkwardly coughed before taking another sip of the tea.
"So, how are things?" Octavio asked, hoping the clear the tension.
"Things are going good. You?"
"I'm not king anymore."
"That's good. You complained about it a lot." Craig didn't look back up at Octavio. Keeping his eyes on his cup.
"Yeah. I don't have my castle anymore either." Craig deeply sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Ok I get it now. You don't wanna talk, you just want a place to stay. Do you really think you can just walk back into my life after everything that's happened? Like nothing happened?" Octavio was taken back by his sudden burst of anger, however, he knew it was justifiable.
"I'm sorry that I almost killed you"
"It's not about-" Craig paused for a moment, putting his cup down on the table. He calmed himself before starting again, "it's not about that. I know you did what you had to do, the fact that it was you that did it, that's what hurt. The fact that you couldn't walk away, and acted like you didn't even know me. And then to top it all off, you never said anything to me afterwards." His voice began to crack and his hands started to shake.
"When the war ended I sent you a letter everyday to see how you were. You know what I said in those letters? What I would talk about? It was things that we did together. I would say that-"
"That you hoped I was looking at the stars at night because you where too, and that meant that we were watching them together." Octavio said quickly. Craig's eyes widened as he looked up at him.
"I read your letters Craig. Every last one you sent."
"Then how come you never sent one back?" Octavio looked down embarrassed.
"Because I'm a coward. Because I know I ruined something wonderful with the last person I had left, and I didn't know what to do. I knew it was too late." Craig stood up and sat next to him.
"It wasn't. I would've loved to get a letter back from you. Just to know if you were ok."
"Why are you so forgiving? I could have killed you."
