Gold
Tulio's POV
I love gold. Of course I love gold. Who doesn't love gold? Gold mean power, fame, fortune, respect. Gold means riches, possibilies, luxuries, oppurtunities... silken locks and wide blue eyes....
His hair is gold. Not blonde, not brown. I've never seen anything like it. It's gold. You know who I'm talking about, don't you? Miguel, of course. More puppy than man. My best friend.
My best friend who I deserted. My ex-best friend. "Together forever", we'd said. We'd promised. We never broke promises. Not to each other. But I did. For a girl. A girl who hadn't even been able to see me as a person, only as a ticket to freedom and fortune. A girl who deserted me only a week after stepping foot on civilized land.
It's been two years since I last saw him. Two entire fucking years. I've never gone this long without him. We've always been together. Always. My first conscious memories were of him, smiling and laughing as we played together. I always thought those would be my last too, that we'd grow old together, and the very last thing I'd see before my death would be him smiling and laughing.
Two years without him. I'm surrounded by golden treasures, but none of them compare to the gold of his hair or the treasures of his heart. Just listen to me. I'm talking like... like... I don't know. Sappy, that's what it is. Sappy cliches. He's not a girl, and he wouldn't appretiate me talking like he was one. He'd laugh. He's not like some perfect angel haunting my dreams, or any of the other poetic phrases I could say. Not really. He's more like an addiction I just can't kick. I need him I can't stop thinking about him. It's a hunger that no amount of food could satiate. It's amazing how he affects me. I miss him so much.
I need to see him again.
I'm rich, and now that I have my mind set on the idea, it doesn't take long to arrange a transport and to travel to ElDorado. The trip was quite a bit nicer than the last time, and not only did I have water to drink, but the finest wine money could buy. We landed on the sands and I stepped out, clothed in rough materiel -- not the silks and satins and velvets I'd been wearing since I'd left him, but my clothes. My clothes, the ones that defined me as Tulio, not as "that guy with all the money".
I made up my mind then, and told the captain of the boat to leave and never come back. What would I do if ElDorado wasn't there? If it had been struck by some deadly plague, leaving everyone dead? I would have killed myself. Life without Miguel just isn't worth living -- it's a lesson I've learned well over these last two years.
The gates are still there though, and I step through them. He sees me immedietly. Was there some sort of guard I hadn't spotted, who ran to warn his "god" that an intruder approached? That doesn't seem right though, because Miguel is just standing there, alone. He's dressed like ElDorado royalty. Not a god, though. I understand immedietly. He isn't a god anymore. He's their companion now.
"Tulio?" his voice is breathless, awestruck.
Gold flashes in the sun, and it's not just his ornate jewelry. He's smiling, trying not to, but still smiling. His eyes are shining with that puppy appearance, like he's afraid to hope, but hoping anyways, not quite sure whether or not he's dreaming. He takes my hand -- it's a striking difference. He's so tan, so strong, and my delicate pale hand fits into his so perfectly. Like a princess' hand into her lover knight's. Which is silly, really. Just because I have girl's hand doesn't mean...
"Miguel." I smile and meet his gaze. I realize that I'm still the same. That he's still the same. But that we aren't the same together, not sure how to be around each other anymore. "It's been a long time."
He gives a short, half-laugh half-sob. "Tulio, I never thought you'd come back! Tulio!" He throws his arms around me and I stand there, stunned, before hugging back. Everything falls into place right then, and I remember him. I don't just remember the perfection I felt with him, I remember everything. The way his eyes laugh when he smiles, the way his fists ball when he's angry, as if he expects a fight, the way he loves to sing and play instruments of almost any kind, his adorable sentiments. I remember him for who he truly is and that momentary discomfort between us vanishes.
He's sobbing now, and I think he felt the newest change between us. Tears spring to my eyes too, but I hold them back with more restraint than Miguel's ever posessed. I don't like to cry.
This wasn't what was supposed to happen, and I'm not sure if I regret it or not. He was supposed to hate me. He was supposed to remind me why I hated him. Or be nonchalante. Maybe laugh at me for needing him.
But I never expected that to happen. I knew he needed me as much as I needed him. Why else would I send the ship away, leaving me stranded here? I knew I'd fall in l -- I knew I'd remember why I lo -- I knew I'd want to stay.
"Tulio!" he gasps again, and I can't help but laugh. He rubs his tears away in two fierce strokes, reminding me that just because he was crying doesn't mean he was going to wax poetic about how much he missed me. Which is a good thing. I don't want to hear about him being upset and missing me. I want to hear about happiness, about future -- about how glad he is I came back.
"How are you? I've missed you! What've you been doing? Is all that gold all gone already? Are you just here for more gold? Are you going to stay for a while? You can stay forever if you want! I won't mind. We won't mind, everyone will be glad to see you. You haven't changed a bit! I missed you!" he slows down, a beaming smile lighting up his face. Then his eyes cloud and he frowns for a moment. "Where's Chel?"
A residual flame of anger ignites at her name, accompanied by the guilt of ever leaving Miguel's side for that deceptive bitch. "She left me first chance she got." I admit readily. "I should have known, huh?"
"You should have." Miguel agrees, bobbing his head and seeming as if may he'd guessed that this would happen. On reflection, maybe he did.
"I missed you." I said, I know from his face that he understands how much. Maybe even more than I'm willing to let myself admit, because he pulls my head towards his, stands on tip-toes to reach, and places his lips on mine, and suddenly I can put into words how I feel, but I can't speak because my lips are covered by his, so instead I deepen the kiss and, oh, he tastes like honey...
He pulls away when he needs air, smiling wider than before. I remember the words I'd wanted to tell him during the kiss -- had I forgotten? I think I did. Now, though, it's really hard to say them. Saying them has so many cconsequences, both good and bad. Are Miguel and I really ready to be in love? After two years of seperation, can we really just spring together like this? It's all okay, though, because then he says the words first, still smiling in the way that reminds me so much of a puppy wagging his tail, and I know that everything's going to be perfect again.
"I love you."
And I say the words back.
"I love you too."
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