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He'd slipped away from the party, and I watched from the window as he disappeared around the corner. I grabbed my coat and followed, curious, leaving a houseful of guests in the capable hands of Huggy. I could see my breath, white as if I were in Minnesota again. Bells rang ahead and I pictured St. Anthony's a few blocks down. I found him sitting in a dark, back pew, in the middle of a Midnight Mass. The choir was singing and people were moving, lined for Holy Communion. Candles burned, and there he sat, still as a churchmouse, his eyes closed. I slid in next to him. "What are you doing here?" I whispered. He didn't seem surprised but reached for my hand, capturing it between both of his. "Starsk?" I asked, a little worried at his silence. "Looking for peace. This year, just looking for peace." I closed my eyes too, my hand warm in his, remembering the past year. So much anger between us, and then Death came lurking. Everything changed, then, when I realized what I stood to lose. "Peace," I murmured, remembering May's horror, and how close I had come to being alone this Christmas. My eyes filled. "Starsk…" I started, then realized this wasn't the place, peaceful or not. I tugged gently and he followed, until we were in the park across the street, hidden in shadows. "I love you," I said, and kissed him. His eyes shone, Christmas lights reflecting. "Think they'll ever understand the peace we have? All that love they've got in there – it's like they've saved it up for one day. What about the rest of the year? What about us?" I hugged him close. "Someday, buddy. Someday. They will." "I love you back," he said, and kissed me hard. *** Prompts: mass, baby jesus, peace 300 words |