Mid-summer Lessons

Mid-summer Lessons

He was playing again and as the mellow tune drifted through the room another young man sighed. Rain was falling steadily outside the huge bay windows and as the emerald eyes clouded, the almost twenty-two year old could only think of those he lost and hardly of what he had gained. How many days did he just sit here on this white sofa staring out the window while the flute played in the background? How many days would he have to live until the pain of the war ebbed away.

The man on the flute had tried to make that go away, but there was still a barrier between them that couldn't be crossed. No matter who was on top and who was on bottom...it just wasn't working yet. The incident that haunted the one with the green eyes was six years removed now, but that didn't stop it from lingering. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw that pained moment over and over.

The flute had stopped, but the green eyed one didn't seem to register it. Even after the other man had come to sit to his right, folding his arms on the back of the couch, studying the younger man with concern.

"What are you thinking about?"

The green eyed man lazily looked to the blond haired man and shook his head. They both knew what. No one in their right minds could forget it. It had been the first death, the first of many, and ironically it was the event that had brought the pair together.

"I know," the blond slid off the couch, crossing the room to where the flute rested on the piano bench, book still open on the music stand. Picking the flute up gingerly, he lifted the piano bench's top and pulled out a similar book to the one he was playing from, only this one had green trim instead of blue. "Come over here."

The green eyed man glanced at him, "What for?"

"Just come over here."

Hesitantly the green eyed one stood and came over only to be directed to the seat before the music stand, the book open to the first place and the blue book put away in the bench. Then the flute was placed into his hands.

"What...?"

"I am going to teach you," the blond explained.

"But, this is your - "

"Should that really matter?" the blond smirked and the green eyed man had to look away, bad memories of their early school years flooding back. They had been sworn enemies for so long and it was mystifying how they had become lovers over just one event. If you could classify a war as "one event."

"What do I do?" the younger man was slightly lost at the situation. The blond had just thrust him into it without warning.

"Easy," the blond smiled very, very faintly, "you play through your pain and use this as a chart for your song, and your pain will ease until it goes almost completely away.

THE END