How to Make a Sinner Sleep

120 | betrayal; steal the solace of death

"There was a sinner destined for ruin."

The delicate vine of the persisting flowers twined around Kaden's finger, happily curling around. They were alive in ways he did not understand, shaking their small leaves lightly.

"A sinner who would paint the world red, living a life scorned and despised. A life that would ultimately fall prey to death and descend into a hell of their own making."

He peered into the cracks of the rubble, refusing to turn around. Papers had scattered around him, falling and mixing with the broken stone. The skies had set into a settling black streaked with pale purple hues.

"The sinner, one day, sought to change his fate. And yet he lost, over and over. Never once had the fool considered an ending where he could find redemption."

It was a colour that could be called beautiful; it was the colour of something foreboding.

"Maybe it was because he couldn't, maybe it was because he couldn't bring himself to consider the idea that he was worth anything, much less worth saving."

"I'm afraid, dear Bellamy," interrupted Kaden hoarsely. "Of all the stories you could tell, that is the sole one I won't listen to."

"That is no longer your story, Chauvet."

Kaden Chauvet had changed. The tale of the sinner certainly belonged to him, once, but it didn't any longer. That was Noah's hope, that was all their companions' dearest desire.

A tale of a sinner who chose salvation.

Noah's gaze bore through his back chillingly, a cold silence settling over them. The dreams had started the first night they slept together as if Kaden's presence slipped into the crevices of his mind and crowded them.

He would only dream of those scattered fragments when the fool slept by his side.

After Kaden's death, he dreamed of them every evening. Sometimes, he would wake feeling an amused annoyance tingling at the back of his head, others he would jerk on his bed, scattering books across the ground as sweat beaded his forehead.

He did not know what the dreams meant. Were they nightmares of losing Kaden, dreams in which everything went to tragedy?

Were they manifestations of his greatest fears, of losing him?

In the dreams, Noah felt a sense of detachment from Kaden, the overwhelming, breathless feeling that tightened his chest, gone. He never realized hos his initial discomfort had become a necessity rivaling oxygen.

There was only Noah, the dragon's son, and Kaden, the much-despised sinner.

There was no Noah and Kaden, together.

When he heard Niklas' words, of a reality that didn't occur but did once, the pieces fell into place.

Noah bent down, picking up a page of paper gently in his slender fingers, and a new story began.

"I'll tell you the story of another fool."

"I don't want to hear it."

Kaden didn't want to be scrutinized, for this dragon to read his soul and intentions, knowing that he was destined for death.

Death was not something he could run from if it chased after him so persistently. Kaden didn't think himself capable of it—even if he resolved to remain by their sides—he didn't think it was possible.

Noah smiled, that faint, tired smile of his. "But you will."

Then, he continued. "There was a fool who pushed everybody away, kept to himself. He feared others, feared being admired, feared turning into something horrifying. He was scared of losing control, scared of every minor thing in life."