WILD ( freddie mercury. )

TWENTY-ONE - THE NAME OF THE GAME

Elijah seemed to startle out of his musings and he accidentally stared directly into his eyes and Freddie's breath hitched— years may have passed since they last have seen or even talk to each other but Elijah's eyes still shimmered like gold to Freddie. Words can't even begin to describe how much the longing emotion he kept inside of himself intensified when Elijah leaned in fortuitously. Freddie inhaled the addicting scent of cardamom and whiskey that mingled with his skin, unexpectedly rich yet picante at the same time due to the alcohol he drank a few hours ago. It was a tricky dichotomy yet Freddie craved to get a whiff of it once more. He saw the texture of Elijah's shirt, silky cotton that glimmered under the lights with intricate designs unnoticeable yet not concealed. Freddie could see the natural curls of his brown hair; curls most women would sell their soul for just to be able to showcase their own. Elijah's chameleon-like eyes entranced him anew, the colours changed with the lighting, Freddie figured. One second it was blue, the next they were green with a tint of golden specks and they were eyes that could have women and men fall in love with him just by staring. A serious smile formed into Elijah's face unknowingly and he coughed shamefully. 

A tinge of red draped across Freddie's cheeks and he turned away to swallow heavily, his heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest and unbeknownst to him, Elijah was feeling the same way. The distance between them was tangible and Freddie swore that he felt an unknown force pressing and pulling him towards the guy against his own whim. He breathed deeply, a fraction of his breath touching Elijah's flushed cheeks. It would take a small amount of temptation until Freddie would actually kiss the man but he removed the notion out of his mind. It was thoroughly absurd, he could have kissed him. He wanted to kiss him but then it would make no sense, no matter how much he'd love to admit out loud that he's still in love with his darling Elijah and nevertheless the fact that he spent nights with men just to feel pleasure, they could never amount to even a one-fourth of what Elijah makes him feel.

"I just wanted to ask how have you been these past few years, Freddie. I know I don't have the right to know anything about you and you don't have to tell me your secrets, hell, anything personal at all, if you don't want to—" Elijah was interrupted by a disbelieving noise that involuntarily erupted out of Freddie's throat. "You're an idiot, Elijah." He was unable to keep the words from leaving his mouth and a shocked intake of breath was the only sign that Elijah heard what he said.

"Just because we fucking broke up doesn't mean I'd act like a stranger towards you, you have to know that." Elijah let out a flinch at what Freddie declared but he stayed soundless as Freddie continued speaking, "I know I've been moody and you're probably receiving mixed signals from how I've been acting and for that, I'm truly sorry. But Elijah," He stopped to exhale and Elijah waited in apprehension.

"Never mind that three bloody years have passed and you probably don't love me like that anymore, don't spew out shit like you don't have the right to know anything about me anymore because before you were my lover, you were my bestfriend first. And I want you to be friends with me again, if you're willing. Let's forget everything that happened." Freddie ended his rambling and quelled down the torment that ripped through his chest when he spoke of their past romance. Three years have passed and Freddie's willing to renounce their friendship but it doesn't mean that he has ever forgotten the love he experienced and he knew by being friends with Elijah would ruin his shattered heart even more, it was better than treating each other like foreigners. Sometimes he'd like to ponder of how masochistic and unhealthy it was on his part to keep on reminiscing on memories long gone and terminated but he couldn't help but yearn for the contentment that occupies his body when he does it— no matter how temporary it'll be and no matter how much it hurts him after.