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Sitting in the home with Frau Eva was suffocating. It’s not like Emil didn’t enjoy her company, in fact, he adored it. Every minute she spent with him felt like a warm blanket around his consciousness. Her soft words pierced his delicate heart, and pulled the love from deep within up to the surface. But recently, since he joined her in a home in the countryside, far from the war raging on across Europe, things were different than when he spent the time with them while in university.
Her brows were always tightly knit, unlike her usual calm expression. Of course, Emil knew of the elephant in the room. Demian was gone. Away in the midst of the war. One morning, as Frau Eva poured their cups of coffee, she let out a long sigh. “Emil, darling, have you ever felt loss, even though there is no one to mourn?” Her voice was uneven and fraught with concern.
“I believe I have felt the feeling before, yes. One does not forget such a sensation. Why do you ask so suddenly?”
“I am deeply worried about Max. Although I have called to him, he has not called to me. I am afraid of what has become of my son. I can feel he shall return, assuredly he will. I do not know what will happen to me if he does not,” she related, sitting down rather quickly at the dining table. Her hands wove around the mug, delicate and precise. Even at her worst, Frau Eva radiated the sort of poise you would find in that of royalty.
Emil brought his mug to his lips, sipping the hot liquid slowly so as to not burn himself. “I understand your anxiety, Frau Eva,” he started. “Demian is my dearest friend, and I hate to have him depart as soon as we have finally been reunited. However, I know he will return. On the night in the infirmary, when he gave me the kiss you sent, I knew we would be together again after this was all over.” Frau Eva smiled, and then a look of confusion washed across her face.
“Kiss?” she questioned, leaning forward in her seat.
“Why, of course. He told me if I shall ever fall ill, that you wanted me to receive a kiss on your behalf, since you were already here at the safe house,” Emil said, chuckling as he sipped his coffee. Frau Eva looked at him with a sort of pity. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but quickly decided against it, as she brought her cup to her lips instead. “Is something the matter, Frau Eva?” he asked, sensing something off.
“Emil, I never sent any kisses. Sure, I said to send my condolences but…”
“What are you implying?”
“I did not send the affection, Max did.”
Emil felt his body go numb for just a moment. He remembered that night again in his mind. How could he forget? His back ached from laying on the makeshift bedding. He felt the burning throb from his wound. The air was thick with suffering all around. He looked over to see the familiar face smiling at him. The words he exchanged were brief, he did not remember them clearly. However, when he told Emil to close his eyes, his body obeyed as if it was made to. His lips were soft, they warmed his body in an instant. When he pulled away, his body became frigid again. And Demian disappeared into the night.
Emil stood from the table after a while. “I think I shall go on a walk. I hope you don’t mind, Frau Eva, but I should rather myself be alone,” he whispered, departing from the dining room as quickly as possible. Once outside, he started down the dirt path to the road. The morning breeze was refreshing and gentle, touching his skin like the waves hit the beach.
The road was not paved like he was used to, rather, it was an old dirt road. There was a town a few miles out, though definitely not a huge one. Sometimes, Emil made the trip in order to get some things for Frau Eva and himself, but other than that, they were alone in the country house. He walked down the road until he reached the fork towards the fields. The flowers bloomed this time of year, making the grass littered with wildflowers.
Emil settled into a spot in the grass, staring up at the clouds. They were fluffy and white, swirled with cool grays and yellows. They mingled and intertwined; a dance known only to that of the heavens themselves. It was warm, and the sun enveloped his body like a blanket of warmth. Demian. The name rang in his head like church bells, melodic and solemn.
The kiss was from Demian himself. So why did he lie? Was the fabrication just to guarantee his obedience? However, Emil would have let him either way. Did Demian know this? Did Emil know this? The thoughts jumbled in his mind.
Emil heard someone walk through the grass. “Frau Eva, I’d really rather be in my lonesome today. I appreciate your concern, but you should focus on your own worries, like that of Max,” he called, staring at the clouds.
“I should hope I know of Max,” a familiar voice beckoned. Emil sat up faster than lightning. He knew that voice. It was Demian’s. He saw him, standing there in uniform, leaning on a crutch. “Demian…” Emil’s voice faltered.
He rushed toward the older boy. “Demian, you’re here. I thought you… we thought you...” he was at a loss for words. Months of silence, not knowing if he would ever write or come back. Yet here he was, standing in front of Emil. And it couldn’t be at a worse time.
His mind surged with questions and emotions, but one thing he did know is that he wanted to feel that warmth again. The cold shattering feeling that Demian gave him so many months ago. The feeling of peace, of hope.
Before Emil could think, he held Demian’s face in his hands, pressing their lips together. Despite months away at war, his lips were still soft. They felt warm and safe, like burning embers. Demian welcomed the surprise greeting, holding Emil close with his free arm. At that moment, Emil forgot about the battle, his still healing wound. He forgot about the safe house and the trips into town. He forgot about Frau Eva and the clouds. The world was empty, and Demian stood beside him.
“It’s wonderful to see you, too, Sinclair,” Demian said softly, pulling away. Emil’s face heated up. Their faces were mere inches apart, saliva still sparkling on their lips from the kiss. “I didn’t-”
“There’s no need to apologize, Sinclair. I knew you had been thinking about that night.”
“How did you know?”
“You’re easy to read, friend. Your thoughts are an open book to me.”
Emil stayed close to him, burying his head in his chest. “You worried us so, Demian. Your mother-”
“I know. I could hear her calling to me. I wasn’t ready to return.”
“Wasn’t ready? You fool, we thought you had been killed!”
“Don’t get so angry, Sinclair. I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“Still, I missed you. And now I understand why I always have. This sense of longing, surely you knew, did you not?”
“Sinclair, I have known for longer than you know,” he chuckled. He tucked Emil’s hair out of his face, planting a few delicate kisses on his temples. “But you did not. You needed to learn to love yourself and this Earth before you could learn you loved me.”
Emil felt his heart ache. However, for the first time in a long while, maybe since childhood, it was not an ache of despair. It was an ache of longing, of a sincere need. Demian had been before him for so long, but he never understood the tension. Now, as he leaned against him, his arm wrapped tightly around his back, he knew. He leaned into the warmth, the safe threshold of the embrace.
And for a moment, the war did not exist. The world had melted away. A myriad of unspoken promises and confessions seemed to open between them. And for the first time in years, Emil felt whole again.