(ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE CREATORS)

Birds sung their evening songs from the treetops surrounding Cross. Lush flowers and grass stretched before him. A group of kids ran along the path that passed the bench he sat up. Cross' eyes glanced between a well-placed statue of a flock of peafowls, which resided in a pretty assortment of planted flowers, and his sketchbook. He sketched what he saw with quick strokes of is pencil.

He wasn't a particularly talented artist, but he certainly wasn't bad. It was clear what he was drawing. Sitting down with a pencil and paper, drawing whatever stood before him, calmed Cross. It was almost therapeutic. Everyday, after work, he would come to the park to relax and take in the environment.

Cross' phone beeped in his pocket. He flipped his sketchbook shut, placing it in his bag and taking out his phone. A message from Dream.

Dreamy

'Hey Crossy. Love you so, so much. Be home soon, ok?'

Cross always felt unnerved by Dream's messages. Throughout the day he would constantly receive a reminder about how much Dream loved him. He didn't have a problem with it, but every time he read them, he got a feeling that Dream was going to do something less than ideal.

Sighing, the skeleton replied with a 'Love u 2. B home soon.' And dropped his phone back into his bag. Tossing his bag loosely over his shoulder, he walked on over the gravel path through the park.

Cross always felt a sense of déjà vu when entering his yard. Every day was the same. He'd wake up, go to work, go to the park, then return with an aching hunger and a feeling of homesickness. Reaching his door, he would repeat the action he had done a hundred times. He would knock.

Two knocks, three knocks. One knock, five knocks. Two knocks, four knocks- twice. Three knocks, four knocks. A code Dream had insisted they should use to ensure they knew who was at the door. As soon as Cross finished, the door opened. A skeleton peered through the opening, having golden eyes and wearing saggy clothes. Dream.

As always, Cross opened, closed and locked the door behind him, before taking Dream into an embrace. Gently he stroked the back of a smaller skeleton's skull, feeling him bury his face into his shoulder.

Cross planted a light kiss on Dream's head. "Are you alright, Dreamy?"

Dream nodded slowly. "I'm alright." His voice was quiet and smooth. Although pleasant, it reflected a broken man. "Was work OK?"

"It was fine," Cross leaned away to meet Dream's gentle gaze. "I can cook tonight, if you're not feeling up to it."

Dream shook his head. "No, that's alright. I can do it." He tried to pull away, but Cross kept him close. A glimmer of worry was evident in the taller skeleton's eyes. He leaned back in and their teeth met with a sweet kiss.

The kiss lasted a good five seconds. To them, it didn't last long enough. Cross pulled away and said softly; "We'll cook together, OK?"

Dream nodded, taking Cross' hand. As he was led into the kitchen, Cross thought reflected over their past. What a dreadful, painful past it was.

But that's just what it was. The past.