Chapter 6

[Friday, October 4]

The sound of the alarm clock pulled Erik from his sleep—a deep, soft, and sweet slumber that he was reluctant to leave even after waking. He kept his eyes closed, groping around to turn off the alarm, but he couldn’t find it.

Then it suddenly hit him: the alarm clock wasn’t within reach because he wasn’t in his own bed. The night before, he had carried Felix to his room, held him until he fell asleep, and then went to sleep on the living room couch himself.

Erik leaped off the couch and ran barefoot to his room. The bed was empty, with only the alarm clock blaring incessantly.

He turned off the alarm and ran back to the living room, scanning the area. There was no sign of Felix. He glanced at the hooks by the door, and his heart sank in an instant: the hooks were empty. Felix’s coat and backpack were gone. Looking down, his shoes weren’t there either.

Felix has left.

Erik paced from one end of the living room to the other, his steps unsteady, his head heavy. Countless thoughts rushed in, tangled in a chaotic mess: Felix was gone. Maybe there was no Felix to begin with. It was all a figment of my imagination, just like how I hallucinated seeing a nymph on the cliff yesterday… But, of course! I’m definitely not mentally ill. I just have my issues, but I’ve never had mental problems. So yesterday was real. I met Felix and brought him home. We had dinner together, listened to music. But what happened afterward doesn’t seem real… I woke up in the middle of the night and found Felix on the balcony, sitting in Fritz’s armchair, crying, and then…

He felt a wave of heat. The memory of that moment was like a hot iron brand seared into his brain: on the bathroom floor, he held Felix tightly, stroking his hair, patting his back gently as if comforting a child. Felix buried his face in Erik’s chest, sobbing, tears streaking his cheeks and soaking Erik’s shirt, dampening the fabric and his heart alike.

Then Felix lifted his head from Erik’s chest, staring at him with those green eyes like deep forest ponds, shimmering with light.

For a moment, Erik’s heart seemed to stop, his mind blank, as he watched that green draw closer, engulfing him… drowning his entire consciousness in the depths of the pond.

The scene felt too real to be imagined—he didn’t think he was capable of imagining something like that. But on the other hand, the intensity of the experience was overwhelming, leaving him disoriented and losing all sense of reality: how could something so absurd happen in real life?

Erik ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots, trying to clear his head. But it didn’t help. His memories and thoughts were still like fractured ice on the sea, drifting apart, unable to come together.

“I need a coffee,” he muttered. A big, steaming cup of black coffee.

He hurried to the kitchen coffee maker, but as he reached for the glass pot, something on the table caught his eye: two small, shiny objects glinting silver on the beechwood countertop.

He moved closer. They were a pair of uniquely designed silver earrings—one shaped like a bird in flight, the other like a feather.

Felix’s earrings.

Erik’s heart pounded, unable to figure out why Felix’s earrings were here. Did he leave them on purpose? Or did he forget them…? Maybe it meant he’d come back.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he picked up the earrings and brought them to his lips.

The bird’s wing was sharp, leaving a faint sting on his lips. Just a few hours ago, they had been on Felix’s earlobes, those small, delicate, shell-like ears resting against his chest… He kissed them again.

Then the doorbell rang. Erik jolted, put down the earrings, and ran to the door.

“Erik, open up.”

Erik’s heart skipped a beat. He pressed the door release button and dashed to the window, looking down.

Felix’s golden hair shimmered in the morning sun, turning into a brighter hue—almost like the silver feather he had just held between his fingers. He looked up and smiled at Erik.

Erik’s knees went weak, a lump forming in his throat, aching faintly.

…Just minutes ago, amidst the chaotic whirl of thoughts, he had still been sure that his mind was solid, unbroken, without a single crack.

Now, he wasn’t so sure at all.