All the While

Dawn came pearly grey, the birds quieter than usual as they too woke to a damp fog hanging low over the grass. It was still cool outside in the wake of the night storm. The grass appeared almost silver with dew as the sun broke the eastern horizon and crept through the open window of Sebastian and Damen’s bedroom.

Sebastian loved mornings. He loved waking up early, before the sun had completely risen when everything was still and quiet. He loved rolling over to find Damen’s large, warm body next to his and waking him with soft kisses. He loved slow, lazy morning sex, neither of them saying a word, the only sounds the birds outside and their own heavy breathing. He loved the satisfying feeling of pulling on a tee shirt only to be tugged back into bed for another ten minutes of kissing. He loved the easy silence between them. They rarely said a word to each other in the mornings. They didn’t need to.

This was one of those mornings. It was the perfect temperature, so all Sebastian would need to keep warm would be a steaming mug of black coffee, his worn, blue hoodie, and the big hunk of man who shared his bed. He rolled over to press a kiss to Damen’s shoulder and begin his daily tradition of waking Damen up with nothing but his lips, but when he opened his eyes, his good mood vanished.

Damen wasn’t there. He hadn’t been since he’d shipped out last August. Normally, this reminder wasn't accompanied by such a deeply painful ache, but… well. Sebastian had been putting off any sort of funeral service for weeks now. Missing in Action didn’t have to mean dead, after all. It didn’t. It couldn’t.

He stared at the empty half of the bed for several minutes, only broken from his thoughts by his phone. Sebastian ignored the several texts from his sister, who insisted on checking up on him at least twenty times a day. Apparently, she had decided that he needed babysitting and was on her way over. His sister did have one thing right: there wasn’t any point in just laying there all day, so he got up, running through excuses that would get his sister off his back, but when he opened the bedroom door and looked out into the upstairs hallway, he came to an immediate stop.

There was one more door than there should have been. Where there were normally a few framed photos of their trip to the Grand Canyon, there was now a large, darkly stained, wooden door. The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was back.

Without a second thought, Sebastian crossed the hall and opened it.

The door hadn’t been there for ages. The first time it appeared was when Damen had first told Sebastian that he was enlisting. They’d fought, Sebastian had stormed off to be alone, and there it had been, waiting for him. He’d never been able to parse exactly how or why it ever appeared. Every time had been in a moment of pain, but it didn’t always come when he was hurting. If that was the trigger, it should have been here when he first got the call about Damen. Instead, Sebastian had been left to stare at those photos and cry until he ran out of tears.

Now though, a large staircase stretched up in front of him, turning at a landing and continuing on past what he could see. He pulled the door closed as he stepped inside. Silence enveloped him. He didn't hear the hum of the furnace or his cat's soft meows, begging for breakfast. Nothing. It was oddly pleasant.

With the silence pressing in on his ears, a new feeling fell over him. An odd sort of tingle deep in his chest, alerting him to the fact that not only was he completely alone, but not another living soul knew where he was. This was the kind of alone that is exceptionally dangerous for mountain climbers or sailors, but for Sebastian, right then, was a blessing.

He stood there for a moment, letting that feeling of solitude fill him up before beginning along the path that had been laid out for him. It simultaneously felt like it had been hours and yet no time at all when he reached the top and was presented with yet another door. He didn't even bother to imagine what might lie on the other side.

He turned the door handle and was greeted with a soft rush of warm, wet air. The room beyond was tiled in rich red and filled with a sweet, soft light. It was a bathroom. A shower was mounted against the far wall, already running and filling the room with steam that made the tiles shine like glass. A table sat nearby with a small bamboo plant and a few bottles of expensive-looking soap sitting atop it.

The door closed behind him with a decisive click.

Sebastian dropped his clothing somewhere the water wouldn’t hit them and stepped into the shower. A long, relieved breath left him. It had been over a week since he'd last bathed. His days were usually spent fending off Damen’s family or on the phone yelling at some colonel or private in an attempt to get more information—to learn where Damen had been before he’d disappeared, why they weren’t telling him anything useful, and just what were they doing to find him?

But right then… Sebastian could just be. For the first time in weeks, he could breathe. The water was perfect—so hot that he wouldn’t stop feeling it anytime soon, but it didn’t burn.

The first time the door had appeared, it had led to a small, yellow room with an enormous tub filling one corner, spilling bubbles everywhere. Once, it had been a clawfoot tub inlaid with gold leaf around the rim. Bright green paint had peeled off the walls, and the water had poured into the tub through dull, creaky pipes.

The bathroom itself was different every time. Even the stairs changed: a dark spiral staircase became a wooden set, lined with cupboards, or a rugged stone set that looked hand-hewn. But every time the door appeared, it led him here (wherever here even was) to quiet, safe solitude. He could never predict when it would be there. The only pattern he could discern was that it came when he needed it to, and he had really needed this today.

After a few minutes of simply enjoying the heat and the water pressure, of letting his hands roam the smooth planes of his body and comb through his hair, Sebastian reached for one of the bottles. The soap smelled sweet, like white lilies and pears, and it lathered thicker than any shampoo he'd ever bought for himself. His hair felt as smooth and soft as satin as the soap rinsed away.

Eventually, though, he knew that he needed to go back. He couldn’t stay here forever, as heavenly as that might sound. He couldn’t abandon himself to this—couldn't abandon Damen. It wasn’t disappointment, though, that settled in his heart as he dried off and stepped back into his clothes. Sebastian felt new. He was going to make himself (and his overbearing, if well-meaning, sister) breakfast, and then he was going to get right back to work. He would scream at every military official in the entire country until they brought his man back to him. Maybe he'd fly overseas and rescue Damen himself, he thought as he walked back down the stairs. It was silly, but the idea made him grin, and he knew that it would have made Damen smile too.

As the large, wooden door closed behind him and he returned to his usual plane of existence, he took a deep breath of the cool, morning air and jumped suddenly at the sound of a familiar voice calling his name.