To Forgive.

By Terrë
***
The skies were lead coloured, dark, deep grey. Clouds scudded overhead as if harried by some devil. There would be rain very soon – too soon. The water of the nearby lake hurried along, trying to keep up with the heavy sky, but, at last, it was thwarted on the shore and raged its imprisonment, throwing up angry spray before rushing back to the centre of the lake for another try.

Eicca could feel the anger. His own anger was locked tight within himself, unable to break free. He let the lake and the clouds express their rage, knowing that he could never let himself be that unrestrained.

His fists clenched, the only outward sign. Over and over, inside, he asked himself why.

Why?

A distant voice, calling his name, brought him out of his misery. He did not turn. He would only wait. The voice came closer, tossed away by the turbulent wind.

“Eicca! Eiccaaaaaa!”
Then the rain fell. It did not start drop by drop, slowly, getting faster with each passing moment. This was a deluge. Within moments his hair was soaked. Water ran in rivulets off his long, leather coat and dripped from the end of his nose. He blinked it away from his eyes, shaking his head slightly.

“Eiccaaaaaa!”

The scream had risen to an anguished wail. He did not turn.

The rain decided that it had had enough of wetting this part of the world. It eased to only steady drizzle; the kind that soaked you worse than a downpour, the kind that got everywhere, even under your coat and your shirt. Eicca shivered. The wind had picked up a little more. The clouds were growing lighter with each passing minute.

“Eicca?”

This time, the voice was soft, right behind him. At last, he turned.

Before him, the betrayer, his tempest tossed hair whipping into his face, his cheeks pale, eyes as stormy as the skies above them. He wore no coat. The hard muscles of his chest were sharply defined, his peaked, cold-swollen nipples stood out sharply under the soaked, thin t-shirt he wore.
Eicca looked away.

“Please...” Perttu came closer, plucked at his sleeve. “You have to believe me – I didn’t mean for it to happen. You know I didn’t.”

“I’ve heard that too many times.” Eicca’s voice, always deeper than a chasm, cracked with emotion, splintered like falling ice.

Perttu shut his eyes. A drop of rain splattered onto his cheek. It glinted there like a jewel, a tear.

“You don’t know how much it hurt,” Eicca whispered, “to find you...”

Perttu nodded miserably. “I know. I was wrong. I was so angry. I couldn’t help myself.”

But Eicca could never stay enraged for long, not with those forest eyes looking so miserable, those lips trembling with remorse. He took a deep, cleansing breath and opened his arms.

Perttu went to him, cradled himself firmly in Eicca’s enfolding arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “I’ll make it up to you somehow.” He was freezing. Eicca hugged his friend tighter and felt Perttu nestle deeper in, seeking more heat.

Above them, the clouds finally broke and a sharp ray of light flooded the lake, turning it into mercury. Warmth flooded over the grass, ruffling Eicca’s soaked hair, beginning to dry it. He sighed. To err is human, to forgive – divine.

Perttu was certainly, maddeningly human.

Slowly, he spoke.

“You can make it up by never losing your temper near my good cello ever again.”

********
end