Unspoken

The traditional eerie darkness of the night, consumed with mystery and the fear of the unknown broke the chains of stigma for but a single night. A canopy of luminous stars accompanied by the full moon gave the ocean side a tiny amount of natural light. Chasing away any of the bogeymen that claimed the darkness as their domain. Tonight wasn't about fear or evil but the unity of two beings displaying affection. An open festival with song and dance to welcome the night as they would the day. A celebration of love and acceptance. Scarcely seen in modern-day chaos. A sight so peaceful and filled with joy, the atmosphere was ideal for the self-proclaimed hippie. Similar to his kind he partook in festivities supporting the love blooming all around.

Yet his joy was shaded by his own envy of old lovers exchanging flowers, and sadness from the newer relationships being formed. His envy didn't fester as hate or resentment but desire to have what he simply couldn't. For years his reputation as a playboy was one River had been proud of. A natural heartbreaker, He thrived off the attention of other men. They knew his reputation but still gravitated towards him only for the mystic to cut them loose when he simply got bored. His attachment to them was all lust and no love. However, things had changed. He hungered for something more than just sex, it didn't satisfy him. He began turning men away and for a while, it seemed like a mystery that would never be solved. Deep down he knew it was because of him, Aphrah.

His bright smile more infectious than the common cold. When days were bleak and void of hope the witch boy was a dim candle in a sea of endless darkness. Offering advice or just an ear more often than not would guide him out of his sorrows. Being sad was impossible around such a vibrant personality. Aphrah wasn't like the other men that River had been infatuated with. The temptations of lust existed just with any of his crushes, yet that feeling paled in comparison to his more romantic temptations. Late-night cuddling on the couch, dates, hand holding the whole nine yards of a typical relationship he desperately wanted with his best friend. Even now sitting side by side near the bonfire the distance between them felt like miles apart.

"Has thou been stricken with illness? thou hath been entranced by the flames not uttering a single word."

The familiar voice shook him from the confines of his own mind. Oblivious to how bizarre it must have appeared to be staring unblinkingly at the dancing flames just a few feet away.

"No man, I ain't sick. Just thinking that's all." He spoke in a somber tone not breaking his eyes away from the glowing embers leaping and twirling about. The refusal to make eye contact with Aphrah was personally justified by the mystic. It would only stir up that intense empty feeling. Bringing the whisper of temptation to pull him in and confess his sinful desires to an unbearable scream. No, he couldn't do it the stakes were far too great and the loss was even greater. Mentally preparing himself for rejection wasn't the problem but the loss of a friend however was. If he spoke out those words that clung to the tip of his tongue would he walk away or be on guard? Would Aphrah judge him because of his long unspoke crush? It would out of character for him to do so but that ugly voice in the back of his mind kept insisting that would be the case.

"Care to share? thou appear unnerved yet thou expressed joy in our conversations about the festival." there was a hint of concern in his voice. a tinge of guilt washed over him for making his dearest friend worry. Never did he want Aphrah to worry. Why couldn't he just say it! with other guys, it came as naturally as snapping his fingers. With others, the obstacle of heavy anxiety didn't exist in simply saying 'I like you' but now he felt fear of rejection, fear of possibly losing him as a friend.

Sadness knowing that he may someday regret not speaking about it. He didn't want to live with regret, it wasn't in his nature. He was a risk taker but this risk didn't give him that thrill he often went seeking this was genuine fear of being heartbroken or worse Aphrah walking out of his life. He was stuck between two paths and gods did it kill him inside. Never knowing what could be if he just took the risk.

"Sure, but uh not here man. It's too loud." Before he could finish his sentence River was already to his feet brushing the sand that mysteriously found itself clinging to places he was sure didn't even come into contact with the pesky stuff. outstretching his hand to assist the blue-skinned witch boy.

It must have been a relief to not have to mask his appearance on the island with the physical oddities of sirens and pixies. He easily blends in as one of their own without fear or judgment. He recalled their first meeting first took him by surprise. The blue skin a bit unsettling but over time it just became another thing he grew to love. Aphrah was unique in every sense of the word.

The witch boy took his hand with ease. slightly embarrassed River prayed he didn't notice how clammy his hands had been. With a light tug, he assisted Aphrah to his feet. Guiding him at a snail's pace away from the bustling crowd. The further they drifted away from the group the less audible the music and chatter was. All that time he refused to let go of Aphrahs hand. Similar to how he would walk in New York guiding the witch boy along the streets. Despite here on the beach, there were only one of two ways to really go.

"Concerned for thou, Not a word has been spoken. It is peculiar not to converse." Aphrah knew him well. Another reason why he must have fallen for the witch. He knew him inside and out, his quirks and expressions. Aphrah could read him like a book and most likely didn't even know it. River stopped for a moment inhaling a deep breath as the summer breeze brushed against his skin.

"I'm fine I promise." River lied and the expression Aphrah made told him that he to could see right past the fib.

"Okay, I'm," He paused to collect his thoughts. "I'm not okay."

It was now or never and by the gods did he just want to run, find a way to avoid the subject just as he had done all the other times he wanted to confess. Now there was no escape no running from it and it made him nervous. He felt as if he would become ill with his heart pounding so fast and his body was visibly shaking his nerves. Despite the hot summer weather his entire body went cold.

"I'm not okay." He repeated.

"Listen Aphrah, I'm just horrible with this kind of stuff. I can't explain it even if I wanted to."

Aphrah gave him a concerned look, great now he had to say something..do something! That's it! He didn't have to say a word to tell him. River reached up pulling the dark blue and purple flower from his hair.

The lunar flower the symbol of romance. It bloomed but once a year and legend say the sun god created it as a wedding gift for the moon. It was to capture her beauty, traditionally men gave it to women but from River was told homosexual males will give away their lunar flower to a man of their choosing. As the sun presented it to the moon, River was presenting the flower to Aphrah.

It felt like ages before either one of them had said something. Only the waves crashing and the muffled music of the festival filled the now tense air.

"I-" the silence was broken by Apharah who could only stare at the delicate yet mysterious flower. again slience-filled them for a few seconds.

breaking the tension River laughed nervously. "If—this is too much, man I could just give you the solar flower." River reached up with a free hand but was stopped by Aphrah.

"No." The word was timid and low, whispering as if he were back home trying to keep the confession hushed. reaching out he took the lunar flower in his hands. his fingers stroking the soft petals of the plant. "I—Thou art giving this to me, to only me..."

"Yes! I— I don't want anyone else to have it. just you and only you." He tried his best to smile but he could tell he looked strange and nervous.

"I accept." the words were spoken in a whisper but River could hear them very loudly in his head. It felt like a weight has been lifted from off him. He felt a sense of freedom. The words he wanted to say, all his fears and worries vanish like the fog he was now filled with excitement that he couldn't contain. Without warning the other he wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into the tightest hug he could without harming the witch boy. He felt a set of hands slowly return the affectionate gesture. The coldness brough on by anxiety now left him with a warm feeling.

"You don't need to tell anyone, this could be our secret."