Jun. 27th, 2003

decadent_david: (Pensive)
David stood on the deck of the ship that carried him back towards Paris, having left Hugo behind in Ireland. He had chosen the exact same spot at the rail that he shared with Hugo and Rhea on their earlier voyage, the place where she had seen in her brother and his friend something that the two men had not yet figured out for themselves. Ironically, this bit of railing was never to be witness to the full acknowledgement of the love they shared.

David still held that love in his heart, but now he struggled to find a way to contain it, to find a place it might still live, yet not hurt as much as it did right now. Hugo has moved on, I should be able to as well, I'm a strong man, I will not let this defeat me. I've made the right decision. He is happy. That's what matters the most, that he is happy.

David turned to walk back to the shelter of his cabin. He was suddenly cold, chilled to the bone. As he reached to pull the outer deck door open, he paused and looked back over his shoulder, out across the water, in the direction of Ireland. A quiet whispered voice, his words flung to the waves, the knowledge that they could never reach far enough... Gráim thú, Hugo [I love you, Hugo.]

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decadent_david

August 2003

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