Shahrazad had a hard time trying to sleep. While Shahryar slept like a log, Shahrazad kept tossing in his bed and was awoke before dawn. Seeing no chance that sleep would come he went for a walk in the garden.

When he was a child he used to play hide and seek with Shahryar in the same garden. It was far more beautiful back then– the green looked healthier, there were a bunch of flowers dipped in rainbows and a sophisticated charm to the lap of nature. Now, even though the raw viridescent trees and bushes filled the garden, Shahrazad clicked his tongue upon feeling the rough edges of the leaves. It pained his eyes to see them descend into wilderness, unlike the olden times when the green would be trimmed to perfection. There were so many tired flowers drooping like a burden had been put on them.

"Shahryar isn't happy at all."

Maybe Shahrazad would have to teach him how to love and care. These plants were as special as children.

"And it's so wonderful to nourish something with your own hands."

They had too nourished their relationship with love. A clement smile on his face grew deeper into a blush as fond memories lighted up his mind, much like the rising sun spreading its colours of red and orange.

"Did I ever think we would end up in this way?"

Each day after their separation, when it had become obvious that Bagaos wouldn't return to the palace, Shahrazad used to crave for Shahryar's companionship. It was the abstract love of a child who knew not anything else in the world, but as youth touched his mind, he reshaped his love into something deeper– a fantasy to dream, to wish.

"If only we had not been separated... he would have remembered me. If only Baba wasn't accused..."

Whenever his mind went back to that point, he flinched. It hurt him to know that his Baba had to go through such an ugly ordeal. It pained him more to know that it was a love between men that was criticised. And it angered him when he realised his own blood had caused the friction.

"Shahrazad?"

Like an uninvited guest in his abode of thoughts Shahryar barged in without warning. Shahrazad felt a warmth surging in his chest when he saw Shahryar's tousled hair and sleepy eyes. He had wrapped a somewhat rumpled shawl around his body.

"You didn't sleep last night."

Shahrazad nodded.

"Don't worry. I will make sure your sister is safe."

"I will be happy to endure pain, however bad it may be, than to see my family suffer."

Shahryar looked down at his bare feet. A pensive crease appeared between his brows. "When I think of it, everything really overwhelms me, Shahrazad."

Shahrazad came closer, touching his shoulder to Shahryar's forearm. "Why?"

"You are a miracle. You are the first one to... survive. It is so very good, but it also scares me."

"Again, why?"

"What if, god forbids, you too–"

"I will not go before I am done."

"Before you are done with what?"

"Done with finding who has been disturbing your peace and playing with your precious life all these years."

Shahryar's smile was fragile. "Without taking my heart? I thought that was also a goal."

"Well, if I have to die, I better not win you. I don't want you to think about me after I leave and lose your sanity. It is"–Shahrazad clenched his fist and pursed his lips, pushing back his choking emotions–"very hard, to live in separation. It defeats you."

"Can we not be undefeated in the face of it?" Shahryar asked in a feeble voice.

"We cannot. It slowly eats you away and you die."

"Perhaps what you are saying is internal. For one can live half-dead, breathe like a human, listen to his heart beat but never get to feel things."

"Yes. And they turn blind to every happiness that life has to offer."

Shahryar patted Shahrazad's head. "I thought I am the morose kind. I thought it's me who's suffered so much. But it seems like I am not alone in this." Shahryar's eyes twinkled. He caressed his consort's head, running his fingers through Shahrazad's hair. "Tell me, what's your story?"

"I had a friend."

"Like me?"

"Yes."

Shahrazad bit his tongue. No, it was too late to back off. If he had kept his feet in the water he had to now dive in.

"Tell me about this friend. I want to know here and now."

Shahrazad smirked. "I hope you won't be jealous of him?"

"Absolutely not."

Well, well. "So here I begin– he is the fairest and handsomest boy on earth, oh I am sure by now he is a man. No one can match the otherworldly fairness of his skin, or the midnight colour of his hair, or the warmth of his chocolate eyes. He is a God, his body made of molten gold."

"I think I want to meet this so very exquisite friend of yours."

"He was very studious. Always into books and knowledge. He wanted to learn something new everyday. And oh yes, he was very obedient to me. He listened to me a lot."

"And you must have dominated him?"

Shahrazad chuckled. "Sometimes I did, but then I liked to care for him too, like braid his long hair. I taught him how to do that. And it was him who inspired me to keep long hair."

Shahryar raised his brow. Shahrazad took a pause too, gazing into his eyes with a longing.

"And what did he teach you?" Shahryar asked.

"About the moon, the sun and stars. The kings of the ancient, the stories of the gods. And his eyes would shine when he narrated me tales. He had a big collection of anecdotes too."

"Oh."

"Isn't he so very charming?"

"He-he is."

Shahrazad held his hands and dragged him to a bench where they sat. "And you know what? He was the brightest student I had ever seen. He was a quick learner. The favourite of the teachers. He wielded the sword like he was born to do it. He loved to eat grapes. He loved the colour red too, more because he said that it suited me."

Shahryar gripped Shahrazad's hands a little too strong. The words he heard snatched away his breath. He kept looking at Shahrazad's green eyes, unable to think straight.

"It's the reason why I stopped wearing red after we lost touch. I will only wear red next time he asks me to."

"And what did you like to see him wear?"

"A necklace of seashells. Those brought out the grace him in."

"I-I pray he still has those with him."

"He has my heart. I haven't forgotten him even after so many years."

Shahrazad couldn't speak any more. It was as if his throat had been scratched by a needle and it bled and burnt. Shahryar's eyes were unable to shift away from Shahrazad's face. Neither was the pair of hands ready to part.

"You describe him like someone I already know, Shahrazad."

"I hope you will help me find him, Shah."

"Can you tell me, di-did he–"

The sound of approaching footsteps alerted the two. They turned their heads to see Parmenion.

"I was searching for you Shah. He has come to meet you."

"Who?" Shahryar asked.

Parmenion cleared his throat. "Your brother, Shah."

The light vanished from Shahryar's face.