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They’re an ocean. Inside a bigger ocean. Fields of irises softly swaying the breeze. Bright skies without a cloud to be seen.
“Bittle?”
Twilight creeping over the river, the clean scent of his freshly-laundered jeans, the thousands of shades in a single robin’s egg.
“Bittle!”
I saw you standing alooooooone, without a dream in your heart…. Without a love of your own…..
“Bittle?”
I feel so…
“BITTLE!”
Eric blinked. “Well, gosh, Jack, there’s no need to shout.”
Jack ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. “I’ve been saying your name for ten minutes. What the hell were you dreaming about?”
“Oh,” said Eric, settling his chin back on his hand. “Nothing.”
And kept gazing into the fathoms of Jack’s eyes.