Chapter Thirty-Eight

Entry:

Q: What do you wish for when gazing at the stars?

A: To join them.

Phoenix.

--

Greyson's uniform wrinkled as he stormed out of the room, unintentionally slamming the door behind him with a bang! Let Phoenix be with the Prince. Greyson didn't care anymore, he just wanted Cole. 

Cole, yes, Cole! 

Greyson diligently made his way back to their quarters, their shared room, their own space. He had finally found someone he could be with. He finally had someone to protect with his life.

Phoenix's new room was relatively close to Cole and Greyson's. It would be easy for Phoenix to pop over if she knew where Cole and he were staying, but Cole needed more time, so Greyson wouldn't tell her that information. 

Cole said he wanted to be protected and that it was okay for Greyson to be needy. 

A heavy sigh escaped Greyson's mouth. His hand unconsciously drifted to the gun he now kept at his hip, just in case. And then there was that knife in his pocket, too. Plus the big knife by the bed. And of course, he mustn't forget the revolver by the door. Yes, Greyson would not be defenseless again. 

He didn't bother to knock on the bedroom door.

Stepping inside, Greyson clicked the lock on the door behind him. The room was small, but it was more than enough for them. In the center of the room was one bed. The entire wall facing Greyson was a large window, a window Cole stared out of, the single flower Greyson had picked for him resting in his palm. The light poured out of the window and blanketed Cole's lanky frame in a grey hue. 

The flower-loving, lean, welcoming Cole.

Greyson's shoulders slouched and he dragged his feet over to his lover. Cole turned and met Greyson halfway. Together, they sank onto the edge of the bed, thighs brushing up against each other.

"She's awake?" Cole asked. 

Greyson nodded.

"I won't have to see her, right?"

Another nod.

"Did she fight it?"

"No," Greyson whispered, "she didn't fight anything, not even me telling her that I was done taking care of her. What are we going to do now?"

"If she can't show any emotion toward what happened, does she even care?"

"I don't know," Greyson sighed.

Greyson leaned his head on Cole's shoulders. Cole took his pale fingers and brushed them through Greyson's hair.

"Does this mean I lost three siblings?" Cole wondered.

A comfortable silence settled between them. They had spent the days talking, sharing stories from gone parents to a fondness for the smell of rain. This time, it was a while before either spoke again. 

"I gave her the journal again, my final apology and goodbye. I told you why I bought it in the first place, right?" Greyson asked.

Cole glanced down at Greyson. 

"No," Cole said. 

Greyson smiled to himself and adjusted his position so that he laid on the bed and his head was in Cole's lap.

"Do you remember when I bought it?" Greyson said. 

"When you took the family to the Highlands."

"I bought it as an apology," Greyson confessed. 

"Why were you apologizing?"

"That was the day I realized I couldn't be with her. It was under that shady tree when the wind blew through your midnight hair, and you looked at me. Do you remember what you said?"

Cole chuckled a little. "I said that 'She doesn't really wait for anyone, does she?'"

"But you do," Greyson explained. He looked at Cole, making sure Cole understood how important he was. "I realized that she would always move forward, but you would stay. Now I know someone can accept all of me, even the part that wants to lock you up and keep you to myself."

"You already know that I like that side," Cole brushed Greyson's hair once again.

"Yeah," Greyson realized, "I like it too."