“I’m...going home.” He managed those words, choking down the urge to lash out, to put up a fight - to cry. Yet somehow he kept a neutral look about him, not allowing her eyes to make out the hurt he felt nestled deep within his gut. Her company was...for the most part appreciated but it seemed she was fueled with far more anger and rage than he could handle at the moment. “You should consider talking to your husband. At least you still have him…”
The specialist rose from his seat, setting the cup of half-tasted whiskey on the coffee table. He didn’t like her, she was too...simply too much for him. At least at this moment, her unwanted company was enough to get his mind off the feeling that drove knives into his heart. He should be thankful for that at least. “Thank you Noel, try not to break any more walls…” Ezra pulled the coat to his chest, and nodded, stepping out of the Carlaci penthouse feeling heavier than when he stepped in.
He hated her then. How could she feel so much anger toward someone who adored her, who loved her? At least he could fixate on that feeling instead of all the words he wasn’t able to say to the Miraluka man before he stepped away. Ezra was mourning, he was bargaining, he was hoping for a moment where he could change this feeling in his chest for hate, for anger...but gods did he miss that man more than any words in their entire galaxy could express. This is why he understood his solitude more than any fruitful connections that ever graced a path before him. Attachment. Emotional. All of those things foreign and yet, his smile was all that pulled him into accepting those steady moments of calm. Halketh was his calm. And in his own special and chaotic way, he made him feel whole.
X X X
The walk back to the tower was just as he remembered. Yet every step, every inch was paved with memories etched into the snow. Peaceful moments like these were few and far between. Since the moment he had left, each day was mixed with ferocious waves, unsteady ground, and piles of paperwork and weapons schematics he seemed to drown him in. If anything else, Ezra understood, this was by his own hand, his own doing to get him to distract from the pain in his chest. And even that pain was physical, his heart was actually breaking and all the medicines he took were to quell the inevitable.
Halketh was not coming home.
As he stepped by them, he could hear their breathing ramp-up to speak, yet he was quick to respond, “I don’t need anything...just water again tonight.” The specialist mumbled at one of the many attendants still aiding him in the keep. He didn’t understand why they still treated him as though nothing was wrong - as if this were business as usual. “Are you sure you don’t need anything Mr. Dune?” Ezra just waved his hand, forcing a smile on his unkempt face. “I’m fine, thank you.” He hurried into the office, shutting the door behind him, hand-pulled to his chest hoping his heart would stop slamming into his ribs. Tonight he would have to do the unthinkable. No one ever prepares you for moments like this. Never.
:// Thank you for coming…
“F-fuck...why am I doing this?” he sucked in a heavy breath, wiping the steady flow of tears with the backside of his ebony jacket. Each word he penned onto that paper forced another wave down his cheeks. Ezra would give anything at that moment to sleep, to disappear until he could feel nothing, but he had to push past the urge to hide. His goodbye was the most important. He wanted it to be just right.
:// Halketh was a man that moved mountains with his bare hands when he could have used his mind to. He was complex, misunderstood at times yet whenever you got him going, his laugh and his sass could light up an entire room. I know today we are mourning him, but I can assure you that is not what he would want from us...he would want us to celebrate him. I just wish you all could have seen just how hard he fought, not just for himself, but for all of us…
That was enough, he couldn’t write much more than those lines. It was all becoming too real, like each word he was putting on each line solidified his death. Ezra didn’t want to believe it. Slowly he pulled the photograph from his desk, tracing over the frame with his finger gently. That beautiful memory warmed his heart, yet it hurt all the same. “I wish I had the chance to tell you how much I love you...how much I didn’t mind your cold feet at night. Wish I had the chance to pull you away from your desk whenever you’d ask for ten more minutes...Halk I wish so many things...I wish you were still here most of all.”
“If this is what bloodletting feels like... then dry my veins, render me a husk…”
