Short Stories

Short Story # 6

Major warning:
This a small snippet from my upcoming book, so if you don't want a spoiler. Don't read!

A SNIPPET.

Hope, unlike death's gentle pause at a doorstep, lacked such grace; it didn't knock politely at one's door. It thrust its way in, and if the door stood locked, it shattered it, penetrating forcefully like the relentless waves upon the shore.

For hope was begotten by change, and change was a kin to fear.

Thus, they conversed through the lengthiest of hours, amidst the darkest of days and the chilliest of mornings.

Did you ever fathom the pearls of your words? How you reshaped them ceaselessly, only for them to love you a tad more.

Just a little more.

"Would you believe an actor if he removed his mask?" Zade asked, gently twirling a strand of Niko's hair as his head rested on his chest. Niko shifted his gaze to meet Zade's.

"I don't think I would," replied Niko, sighing as he felt the warmth of Zade's skin against his own.

"Why not?" Zade inquired, now fixated on Niko's eyes. They resembled the petals of peach blossoms, round with double lids and a subtle upward tilt.

Zade thought they were perhaps the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.

Niko yawned, "Maybe because they've been playing a role for so long that it becomes hard to know what's real anymore?"

"But you wouldn't know that, now, would you?" Zade responded.

"I guess you're right, but I think I'd trust an actor's word more," Niko said, as Zade let out a small laugh.

"You just contradicted your earlier statement," Zade chuckled, and Niko raised an eyebrow in response.

"I did? Well, what can I say, I'm quite the contradictory one," Niko remarked with such a pretty grin, Zade thought that even paradise couldn't compare. 

He gave him an unimpressed look. "Why would you trust an actor more, then?" he asked.

"I think it's because actors wear many masks, understand their surroundings well, and grasp how people react; they probably know who's lying or not because they do it so often... and they're more intuitive?" Niko paused before adding, "I think."

Zade hummed, "I suppose our perspectives might not be so different as I'd thought."

"What? I didn't quite catch that," Niko asked, and Zade merely grinned. "Nothing, go back to sleep."

Niko made a face at his response, sighed, and slipped under the duvet, turning away from Zade. Zade followed, wrapping his arm around Niko's waist.

"Goodnight, Niko... I love you," he whispered, but received no response. No reciprocal "I love you," just silence. Silence that wasn't cold like winter's chill, it was like Spring; hopeful.

Niko was asleep.

And Zade found solace in that silence, he liked it better compared to the piercing ache of heartbreak and regret. He could live like this—close to Niko, attuned to every sigh that escaped his lips, every blink of his eyes, and the warmth of his body against his.

He could live like this; Niko was all he needed in a world that had lost its meaning, and as pearls fall down to Earth and soon they forget. Forget to breathe, to blink and to eat.

They change.

Zade would change, just for Niko, because hope was kin to change.

Always.

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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the snippet (if you stayed )