Bruno

The deck is moving slightly under our feet, and the stars in the black sky dance along with it. The sea air is fresh and cold and it's a pleasure to be breathing it after the two days we have spent in the tiny, stuffy compartment. It's only now that we're far enough from the shore, and the hour is too late to run into any crew members, so that it feels safe to get out and stretch our muscles a little.

I walk over to the wooden handrail and look down into the gleaming black surface sprinkled with the bright reflections of the stars and the moon. Hadrian joins me there, his gaze following the direction of mine.

"I've never been on a ship before," I say. "Have you?"

We have barely spoken during the last two days, feeling numb and deafened by the latest developments. In fact, we've slept most of that time, and it felt right, to just take the time to recover before we could talk about the present and the future—before we could even think about them properly.

"I've been on a ship." He raises his eyes and squints at me. "You're getting recognizable again, Bruno. Congratulations."

I touch my face, the stubble prickling my fingers. The swelling is mostly gone, and even though the bruises still hurt, it feels like my face and body are mine again, and not just some alien, painful mess which my soul is forced to occupy.

Hadrian leans with his elbows on the handrails and puts his chin on his hands, peering ahead. The sound of the waves is calming, and the dark vastness around us makes me feel small and insignificant.

"It's like we've been erased," he says quietly. "And now we must create ourselves anew."

"I don't mind," I say. "I didn't like myself all that much. It would be good to start from scratch." The words come easy, like a declaration of something that I have come to understand without even realizing it. "I've been a mess for a long time, you know."

He rests his cheek on his hands, looking at me. "Aren't you still?"

I think about it. All that I can feel inside is a calm, dark emptiness—but not of a bad kind. More like the kind that is waiting to be filled with new and better things. When I think back, apart from the painful memories of Oliver, I can't think of anything that I would miss from my past life. It was filled with hatred and injustice and the relentless desire for revenge.

There's also Grumio I'm leaving behind, of course, but all that Philto was able to find out about him was that late in the night on which Oliver's army had smashed the nobles, Grumio had been seen leaving the camp. No one had seen him since. He hadn't been found among the dead—that was a relief to know—but he hadn't returned to the barracks where he had stayed before. He just...left.

Perhaps he felt the way I did about the rebellion. Perhaps he didn't want to be a part of it anymore.

It hurts to know that, having found him after all those years apart, we got separated again. It hurts even more to think that he probably believes me dead. Yet I find a measure of comfort in knowing that he moved on to build a new life for himself—the way I'm moving on with mine.

Maybe one day, I could come back to the familiar shores and try to find him. For now, there is nothing left for me there. The only person I wanted and could take away with me is standing by my side now.

I reach out and brush Hadrian's hair out of his face, but the breeze throws it right back into his eyes. A corner of his mouth curves in a familiar smile that I suddenly want to kiss.

"I love you," I say simply.

"Oh?" His eyebrows go up, and he pushes off the handrails and straightens up. "Really?"

I nod. He clears his throat. "Uhm...thank you?"

I chuckle. "Gosh, Hadrian. I'm glad you're learning the concept of gratitude, but you're still using it wrong."

He peers into my face, then reaches out and traces his fingers on my lips. "You're smiling. Did you even realize? I never saw you smile before."

I try to freeze the fleeting, strange expression on my face, to really feel it.

"Don't stop," he says. "I like it." He raises on his toes and plants a soft kiss on my lips. Then his hands wrap around my neck and he presses against me, his breath hot against my skin. We stand there, sharing the warmth of our bodies, rocking slightly with the movements of the ship.

"I love you, too," he whispers in my ear, his voice barely audible. "Don't tell anyone."

I only hug him closer, and for the first time since forever, I'm at peace with myself.

The End

***Read on for the afterword... :) ***