49.

I see Eryx again. This time, I am pretty sure it is not a dream. I have been looking at him through my mirror for about an hour now. He is disappointed in me. I can see it in the way his eyes don’t shine, in the way his muscles are tense. Mine are too. Oh, mine are too. I can’t think him away, I can’t blink him away. Breathing doesn’t help, either. He stays there, in the darkest of my room, his eyes fixated on my face. I want to yell at him, I want to tell him to go away, but my lips are sealed. Only when I try to lift my hand does he move. His silhouette becomes real, and I swear that I truly feel his touch on my shoulder.
“Don’t- please don’t-“
“Just a little while longer and you’ll be a true king.” His voice is so.. real.
When I look at myself in the mirror, I am me, but younger. I am that seventeen year old boy again, that boy who wasn’t aware of what I was getting myself into. The boy who was unaware of the man’s true intentions, of his goal to take the fame and kill me for it if necessary. I am back in that young body of mine, one that was still untouched and blessed by the moon. A body that was sacred to myself, one that I appreciated every time I looked at it. I am in a body unharmed and unscarred. I am that boy who didn’t know how it felt to have Eryx’s hands all over his body, who didn’t know what it was like to feel the love of a man too old for him
I was innocent.
“My true king..” His voice whispers in my ear. It is clear; it is real. I am back, am I not?
I try to tell myself to wake up or to snap the fuck out of it. I want to pinch myself, slap myself, yell at myself. But I can’t; I did not do it that day.
I want to cry when I realize I am dreaming.
I am dreaming one of the ones I rarely have, one of the ones so real I swear I could smell the scent of his breath and hair.
He shocked me in this moment. I feel his hand pulling at my chin, I feel my head turning, and I eventually feel his lips against mine. I want to cry; I don’t deserve this. I know I don’t deserve this. So why do I feel like I missed the feeling of his kiss? Why do I feel like I want him to continue? If I know it is wrong, why do I beg for it?
I feel the boy I once was kiss back, I feel his tongue in my mouth and his hot breath intertwining with mine. I was about to become king; of course he had to kiss me before that’d happen. It gave him power, security, safety. It gave him a position in my life. An important one.
I thought it was love back then.
I think I still believe it was.
No, I know it still was, because why would he look at me like that? Why would he smile, touch my cheek, wipe away my tears? Why would he comfort me?
Why would he- what is that?
My eyes open up, or don’t, but Eryx disappears nonetheless. I realize I haven’t woken up, nor have I been asleep was I hallucinating? Imagining? Am I getting sick again?
My eyes look at a different face in the mirror now. It is a face that can truly comfort me, a face of which I know loves me.
“Hey buddy..” Connie’s hand feels different than Eryx’s. It is still rough from the war, but it holds a kind softness underneath it. “Was I sleeping?” I have to ask. I have to know. I watch him shake his head, still too afraid to turn around I don’t know if this is real or not, I don’t know if looking away from the mirror will make it all disappear.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I saw him.” Connie and Cesilia ones promised me to never talk about Eryx ever again, yet now I am the one to talk. It is too difficult to live with a secret that eats at me every single day. It is even worse now that Elai is here, because I am feeling things I once felt for Eryx. He is a confusing boy. He is confusing me.
“Just now?” Connie leans down on one knee to be able to look at me properly, and I feel that he wants me to look away from the mirror. Once I do, Eryx will be gone again. That seventeen year old kid will be gone again. I will be me, and Eryx will be dead.
I have to gulp when I look away. I am sorry, Eryx. I did not meant for it to end like this.
“Yes. It was the day of my coronation..” I haven’t dreamt about that day all that often. Usually, it is the days where Eryx touched me when I didn’t want him to, or the days he abused me until I understood how to use my ability. Usually it is the bad days. Usually..
“He was so kind to me..” I can see the sorrow appear in Connie’s eyes, and I know how much it hurts him when I talk about Eryx this way. But I can’t stop; I feel guilty. I feel bad.
“I didn’t get to say sorry, Connie- I didn’t get to-“ Words turn into cries when I feel the warrior’s arms wrap themselves around me. My hand reaches out to lean against the back of his head, his short hair tickling against my fingers. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t say a word to try and make me feel better. That is not how it works; not when I’m with Connie. His physical comfort is enough. He knows that, and I know it too.
“Do I have to stay for the night?”
He does. It will keep the nightmares away. Or the spirits. I still don’t know what had happened only minutes ago, if it was a dream or a hallucination. I can only hope it was a dream; I don’t want to get sick. Not now that the festival has begun. Not now that.. Elai is here. I want to spend as much time with him as I can. I want to get to know him more, I want to know what I feel, even if it terrifies me. I won’t let Eryx take this from me.
Connie falls asleep much sooner, and I sneak out of bed with soft steps. I need some fresh air; I need to talk to the moon. She will be full on my birthday, and it usually the best time to talk to her, but I can’t wait anymore. I need to try and stop myself from getting sick; I need to stop Eryx from haunting me just for a week.
The balcony’s floor is cold under my bare feet, the robe holding onto me not warm enough to ignore the cold breeze.
I look up at her, her light shining down on my face. She looks peaceful. She looks kind; maybe she will grand me my wish. I talk to her in my mind, beg for her to let me breathe for just a week. I tell her I understand that I need to go through this, that I have done so much wrong to deserve all the shit that she’s giving me. I tell her I know what I did was wrong, and that I am truly sorry. I tell her that I want her to understand.
I tell her that I want to sleep.