He collapsed against the wall, his legs barely holding him upright. And when his breathing returned to normal, he opened his eyes to find himself alone.
15
What’s One More Goodbye?
“You look… pensive, Feltham,” Armando said from the doorway of the drawing room.
Oliver glanced up from the sofa on which he lay like a depressed sultan, offering a soft smile. He’d had the roughest of nights after his passionate interlude with Bram, his weary brain sending him in circles. Sleep had evaded him completely.
“For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.”
Armando gave him a pitying look. “You’re not thinking about flowers, are you?”
“Oh, but I am,” Oliver assured him. “A rather particular bloom… peculiar even, in that it didn’t blossom in quite the way I anticipated.”
He didn’t know why it had taken him so long to figure it out. He should have guessed when he overheard Bram telling Cecilia the story of Clytie and Apollo after Oliver brought the girl a sunflower. Bram had told the story with all the exasperation it deserved, all the exasperation Oliver had come to expect from the one he loved.
That poor girl should’ve told Apollo to… suck on a lemon.
Cecilia had giggled at that.
Instead, she stared towards the heavens all day long, watching his chariot pull the sun across the sky, probably crying her silly heart out at night. And the gods took pity on her, so do you know what they did?
Cecilia had nodded, but Bram proceeded anyway.
They turned her into a sunflower. Because they are criminally ridiculous to their bones.
Oliver had laughed silently into his own fist, hidden in the hallway.
Oliver tells this story better than you, Cecilia had told Bram when his rendition finally came to an end.
“And does that matter?” Armando asked, bringing him back to the present.
“It matters, but I cannot deny the pleasure it still brings, nor can I say my heart dances any less.”
“Then what keeps you bound to the couch as if pinned by an entomologist?”
Oliver sighed deeply. “My life has thus far been plagued by loss and rejection. To fall upon the side of hope on this occasion would likely lead to both, and I’m barely surviving as it is, my friend.”
“Then you must stay here for as long as you like, for I will not have you lonely, Oliver.”
“Oh, I could find a way to be lonely even in a loving household such as this, I’m sure.”
“Bram has gone for a swim in the lake,” Armando said, apropos of nothing.
Still, when Armando left, Oliver found himself wading through the grass towards the lake. He left his clothes with Bram’s at the edge of the water and jumped in without a splash, a perk that came with his water jinn heritage. He swam underwater, popping up a few yards away from Bram, who shrieked and backed away.
“What are you doing out here?” Bram demanded. “This is… Nobody but me comes out here in the morning. It’s my time.”
“You ran away again.”
“So, you’re ambushing me in a lake? How chivalrous of you.”
Oliver moved closer. “I thought you didn’t want chivalry from me, Bram.”
Bram backed away, kicking out at him. “No, please.”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Oliver said, bobbing in place. “I wouldn’t.”
“But you know,” Bram whispered. “I know you do.”
“Because it has never been like that for me. Not with anyone.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’m here, aren’t I? Exactly where I want to be.”
