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The guitar had just been left there, as if waiting for anyone who wanted to try.
A hesitant smile crept across Lysander’s face. “I… I don’t know, Maxi. I haven’t played in a long time…”
Meeting his eye, Max gave him a soft smile. “Please? For me?”
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“Hey,” he whispered, icy eyes following his finger when he pointed further up the path in front of them. “Look.”
Palm leaves rustled in the breeze, a bird cawing from somewhere in the direction of the ocean.
When he offered his hand, Lysander took it, intertwining their fingers. He wasn’t usually a hand holder, but Max loved when he humored him.
Neither knew where they were heading or how they would find their way back to the rental, but they walked anyway.
Max bit the inside of his cheek.
He wanted to tell him that wouldn’t happen. But, he’d not thought anything would happen to him the night he had died either.
“You wanna take a walk?”
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“It was stupid…” he whispered to his lap.
Max had to stop himself from arguing. It wouldn’t do either of them any good after all.
“I…” Lysander shook his head, “I’m so scared… that I’ll lose you again. It’s been eating me alive, the thought of… existing forever… without you.”
“Can I rub your back?” It took a moment, but Lysander nodded. “Will you talk to me?”
Again, he paused, likely trying to collect his thoughts. He swallowed hard, pulling his knees up to his chest.
When he could finally breathe again, Lysander let out a dry, humourless chuckle. “Gods, how fucking pathetic,” he muttered to himself, rubbing a hand over his face.
Max wanted to smack him for it. “You’re not pathetic Lysander, don’t say that again.”
But that would only make it worse, and he had learned that the hard way.
The best thing right then was to talk to him, quiet and calm, remind him where he was and let him ground himself back in reality.
“Hey,” Max whispered, wincing when Lysander flinched. “You’re okay,” he continued, voice as soft as he could make it. “Breathe, baby.”
He wanted to wrap himself around the other man, hold him till his breathing had settled and his body no longer trembled.
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Breathing ragged, he put a hand to his mouth and Max knew he was trying to gauge whether or not he needed to run to the toilet before his stomach emptied itself.
“No!” he cried with a start, Max jolting upright when he did, reaching for Lysander’s hand before he could think better of it.
As much as it pained him to think about it, Max was beginning to grow accustomed to Lysander’s nightmares waking him in the middle of the night.
He almost missed the dreamless sleep brought on by his exhaustion prior to Vedia’s help, if only for the fact that Lysander had never woken up screaming.
Of course, it couldn’t be a peaceful sleep.
Nothing could ever be that easy.
“I will… I just wanna look at you a little longer.”
That was the last thing he could remember before he had drifted off, far sooner than he would have liked to, Max’s eyes on him the whole time.
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He wished he’d waited before he took them, but it was too late by then.
“You should sleep too,” he heard himself say, a yawn punctuating the sentence as Max nodded.
“That’s my line,” he answered, pulling Lysander’s hand by the wrist so he could press a kiss to his palm.
He could feel the medicine in his system fighting to keep him calm, keep his heart from racing.