What Remains

The days that followed were strained, to say the least.

Xavier didn’t remember much of anything. Since the ritual had been botched, he had also lost pieces of our childhood. He feared everything, asking questions and having panic attacks as we went about our daily routines. I missed the brave, witty man I had once known, and I longed for his presence and touch. I had never felt so lonely. He would flinch if our hands brushed while we were out hunting or if our bodies were too close on the cot we shared. I wanted to give him space, but it was hard to maintain any sort of boundary in the small apartment I had managed to secure for us.

We had a small breakthrough about eight days into our new arrangement. I was sitting on the cot, getting ready for another hunt. Xavier walked over to me, taking a seat at my side.

“Can you tell me about us, from before?”

I could feel the hesitation in his request, but he was making eye contact and maintaining it.

“What do you want to know?”

“Well, you haven’t really said much about it.” He fiddled with the sleeves of his shirt.

“To be fair, you haven’t really said anything in general.”

This was the kind of witty retort we often volleyed back and forth.

In that moment, I saw a glimpse of who he had been. Of my love.

“Well, Ezra.” He laughed into his palm. “You need to earn it! Now, tell me about our childhood.”

It felt surreal.

I hadn’t heard him laugh since that day. Instinctively, I reached to pull him close for a hug, and when I did, I saw him recoil. Xavier was shutting down all over again, my touch the trigger.

“I’m sorry. That was my fault.” I turned away and stood, heading towards the door and restoring the distance we had been keeping. “We can talk about it on our hunt. Now, hurry up and let’s go!”

We had taken one step forward and two steps back.

***

Days turned into weeks.

We started talking more frequently and with less hesitation. I could see his tension melting and his mannerisms returning to normal. It was incredibly slow but worth the wait. I let Xavier lead, making the decisions about proximity, what we discussed, and when. This was the only way I could give him control of the pace.

In week seven, he lay on the couch next to me and rested his feet on my lap. I wanted to touch him but held back.

“I feel drawn to you, brother. In ways I don’t quite understand.” He clasped his hands behind his head.

“Call me Ezra. Stop being so formal!” When he called me brother, it felt like he was keeping me at arm’s length.

“Ezra,” he said with just the right amount of snark. “You have told me about our childhood and our bond as siblings, about my crazy mother and how she tried to steal my memories, and how you saved me.”

I nodded. What was he getting at?

“Is there something you are leaving out?”

I nearly choked on my own saliva.

“Something like what?” I didn’t want to say anything to trigger him and set us back yet again.

“Whatever. Can I hug you?”

The change of topic was abrupt. I wasn’t sure how to react, but I didn’t want to rush it.

“Are you sure you…” I began to ask, but before I could finish, he leapt forward and wrapped his arms around my neck.

I could feel him tight against my chest, squeezing with all his might. He was straddling me with his knees beside my thighs. I grabbed onto him so quickly that I couldn’t stop myself. This was a moment I had been waiting for, and in an instant, I felt less alone and more complete.

“This is nice, Ezra.” He spoke softly, pulling himself out of the hug. “Thank you for saving me. I hope that one day all my memories return. Life with you at my side sounds pretty good to me!”

He laid back on the couch. “So, where are we hunting tonight?”

I felt the smile on my face, muscles burning that had gone unused for so long.

***

Weeks turned into months.

We were out on another nightly hunt, looking for trouble. We’d been walking for quite a while, laughing and joking along the way. Xavier had regained most of his memories; however, it appeared as though the ritual had successfully obfuscated what i'd wished it hadn't. Us.

We stopped beneath the trees just beyond the gates of some ruins we frequented. Xavier slipped off his jacket and settled it over my shoulders.

“You’re shaking.” It was cold that night.

“A little.”

He sat down on the low stone wall and tugged at my hand. I sat beside him, our shoulders touching. Before I could adjust and create a little more space, his little finger hooked around mine.

“I remember doing this I think,” he said with a smile, holding tighter. “When we were just kids.”

“Me too, whenever we were scared or caught one of the queens’ bad moods.”

He looked down at our hands and laced his fingers through mine.

“I wondered if I was right. Either way, I like this feeling.”

I leaned against him, and he rested his cheek on my shoulder. We stayed just like that until he spoke again.

“Ezra, did we ever kiss?”

I couldn't believe what he'd just said, but something was different. I wasn’t sure if it was his voice, the way he asked, or just my own imagination.

“Yes, we did.” I blurted it out.

A wave of stress rolled through my body—would this set us back? I couldn’t handle starting all over again.

“I knew it!” He was still resting on my shoulder. “Will you tell me about our first kiss?”

I lifted my head, sitting up straight. “You want to know? Are you sure?”

His mouth curved. “You’ve been very patient with me.”

“I was trying to give you space. I didn’t want to force your memories.”

“How generous. Tell me!”

There he was, demanding as he’d always been.

I smiled. “Well, you were very sure of yourself. You knew what you wanted.”

“Understandable.”

“I had wanted to kiss you first, you know, but you beat me to it!”

He lifted his head, and his smile softened.

“You had me pinned to a wall, confessing!” I chuckled at the thought. “Then you leaned in closer.”

Xavier turned towards me. His knee brushed against mine, and stayed there, our eyes locked.

“Like this?”

“Yes.”

His gaze dropped to my mouth.

“May I?”

I nodded.

He kissed me softly but with a passion I had forgotten, his free hand settling against my cheek. I held still for a beat before kissing him back, my fingers tightening around his.

When he pulled away, he still stayed very close.

“Was it like that?”

“A little.” I brushed my nose against his ever so slightly. “You’re a lot quieter this time.”

He giggled, his thumb moving across my lower lip.

“Could we do it again?”

“Of course,” I whispered.

This was only the beginning, of what remained, and everything to come.