I hope I come in your dreams like you do in mine.
~Julian to Heath
Though he had never seen Julian's grave he was standing in front of it now. A weird sensation of familiarity flowed through him like he had been there. He saw flashes of himself, kissing his boyfriend but for some reason Jules' face was blurred. No, it wasn't blurred, it was shielded from view, only his back visible.
He had tried to stop imagining his face, he hadn't forgotten it. It was stupid of him to think it would entirely disappear. Three years with someone is a long time.
When his face was finally visible, his blue-green( not exactly hazel) eyes that looked like precious stones, his soft wavy brown hair flowing in the wind though Heath couldn't feel any air moving. Everything was deathly still.
Heath smiled at him, wanting to hug him and kiss him and tell him he missed him so much. He knew he would come back. Julian didn't seem amused or even smiling at him. He looked at him with indifference and as if he were something very wrong, an entire stranger. He looked at him as if he were water and all he had seen was fire.
"Jules?" Heath echoed, his body felt heavy. He couldn't move, felt weighed down. He looked at his feet, he was standing on the grass wearing his shoes expect they were black instead of white.
"Don't say my name like that," he snapped angrily. Fire danced in his pupils and Heath flinched even though they were at least ten feet apart. It was almost like he was whispering like a snake, his throat putting pressure on every word to make it sound like pure venom. "You left me to die."
This time Heath felt like he had actually been slapped, he recoiled in horror as Jules moved forward freely unlike him. He glided forward, barely moving like time affected him differently than Heath. He came closer until they were only a meter apart.
"You think this is helplessness?" he said, every word fused with pain and hatred. He gestured towards his feet that refused to move. "It's nothing compared to what your dad did."
Please. I don't want to know. I am sorry. I am sorry he did that. I am nothing like him.
The words got stuck in his throat, refusing to come out as if Jules could control him with his mind and mere thought.
Why are you doing this to me? I thought you loved me.
"Your dad knocked me out with a bat first," he seethed and Heath could see the replay of the events in his eyes. His dad came closer to Julian, almost like a shadow behind him. He was holding a bat, no big deal. He was dressed as a little league coach. Suddenly, when Jules was about to turn to a larger street, he hit him in one blows and knocked him out. His head was split open like a fruit, blood comes out of it, oozing like a fountain.
Heath could feel his throat closing up, his senses going insane. He couldn't stop imagining the gruesome scene. Jules' body hitting the ground slowly, like a feather, another life gone in a flash of seconds.
"He mauled by body next," Julian said, sounding a little softer like he was telling a bed time story. Flashes of the scene passed through Heath's mind. He had not seen his dad in years but he could imagine what he looked like. He ran his nails over his face and Heath screamed, almost feeling the sensation. His dad smiled, feeling accomplished at the amount of blood he had trailed across the boy's face. He licked the blood off them, wincing at the coppery tang. Heath's head spiraled into the void. He felt like he was dying.
"He saw a bottle lying next to my body, some fucker must have left it around," Jules's voice said, though he was nowhere to be seen. "He pushed it through my left eye. You said you loved my eyes because they looked like sea-glass once. Did you love them when you saw them be destroyed and toyed with?"
Please, I am sorry. It was all my fau-
"You are right," Julian said, he could feel his sad smile reaching him. "It would be so much better if you didn't exist. I wouldn't be dead. Conan wouldn't have to be with someone who is always miserable and sad and depressed. Lim would have a friend who actually likes to have fun and not just sit at home the whole day. And your mom? She wouldn't have gotten divorced. She would have been...happy.
"You are such a waste of space," Jules whimpered, reappearing again. He looked like was about to burst into tears. There was a piece of glass stuck underneath his eyes. "But I love you. I really do. You left me to die, Heath but I still love you. You let your dad murder me, but I still love you. You didn't even show up at the court proceedings or the funerals, did you? Too busy being the best. Even after it all, I love you. But what I don't get...is how you could replace me so easily."
I didn't replace you. I love you still.
It was almost as if he heard him screaming in his mind. His eyes flickered with the barest fleck of humanity as he spoke again, giving his words attention.
"Then why are you with him?"
I am not in love with Conan.
"Then why are you with him?" he screamed, demanding an explanation. His eyes burned with rage, killing all the softness that had existed once. "You don't love me enough. You threw me away like some fucking toy!"
Julian didn't like cursing. He never used these words, never. He hated cursing. He would wince if Heath cursed and smack his hand for using them around kids. He must be really angry.
I didn't throw you away. I never did. I have always loved you.
"I am sorry, Heath," he said, picking out the glass from underneath his eyes and holding it like a pen. It didn't look like it hurt. "Some things must be done." He raised his hand, the piece in his hand.