A sequel to Years Go By.
Illya walks the streets.
An established relationship story.
Written: December 2007. Word count: 300.
The wind whipped around him, blowing his hair off of his face; blowing so hard that for a moment or two he had to fight to move.
With the wind came the hail, pouring down on him, hitting sidewalk and bouncing off it. Hitting him, cutting into him. He didn't even feel the needle sharp bullets.
Finally tired of fighting against the wind, the hail and his feelings, he paused.
He paused and allowed Napoleon to catch up with him.
Had Napoleon believed he had not known he was being followed?
Illya doubted it.
He turned and looked through the hail at his partner, his lover. For the first time in their acquaintanceship, Napoleon looked a mess. His hair flopped over his forehead; his shirt was untucked; his jacket, despite the ceaseless hail, was unbuttoned
"She means nothing."
"I know." And he did. In many ways that made it worse.
"Then come back. Come home. Come home with me, Illyusha. Please."
He stood, the wind still swirling around him, the hail still beating down on him, and he knew.
He knew he would do as Napoleon asked.
He would return with him.
He would do so because there was nothing else he could do.
Not quite as much as it had done the previous time.
Just as next time it would not hurt quite as much as this time.
And the time after that would not hurt quite as much as . . .
Until the day came when it no longer hurt.
And then he could keep walking.
As he turned against the wind and the hail, letting the former blow his hair forward and help propel him along and the latter beat down on his back, Illya did what he always did: prayed that day would never come.
Keep Walking is the sequel to this story.
Feedback is always appreciated
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