He didn't knew how long he lay there. The wind and rain were a constant roar, but their sound was distant compared to the throb of blood in his ears, the roar of memories in his head.
“You’re going to do great things,” his lover says. He hugs him. Wipes tears from his eyes.
“You’ve already done great things. The moment you came into my life. That was the greatest thing.” And he tells himself not to cry. Not here, not now. He tells himself he will see her again. “I will always...”
He sees him.
He sees his hand.
He sees his hand from where he stands in the great wild field.
A finger c****d.
His fingernails red. Fingers red. Red, red—
Ren curled against himself.
Curled against the memories.
Nothing else moved in the world.
Just the rain.
Just his breath.
Just his blood mixing
