Well, he couldn’t hide forever.
At some point, they’d have to come face-to-face. All Michael could hope was that the man wouldn’t tell him to fuck off.
Oh, he deserved it, but he had to have hope.
With the time he’d been awake, he’d read the other four letters, and they talked about their dreams, and hopes they’d once had.
Graham wrote about adopting some moppet-haired children, living in a little cottage with a garden where they could laugh and love.
He spoke of how he wanted to go home to his parents one day, but he couldn’t because he was an outsider.
And Michael knew that feeling.
Oh, he knew it more than Graham would ever know.
In the letters, he found hope.
Did he deserve to steal that from them?
No.
But he would.
What he wanted was to wake the man up so they could talk, but he knew how shitty it was to wake up with a hangover and have someone in your face.
He’d give him some time.
There were things he could do.
Now, as the sun was coming up, he knew what he needed to do.
He made another small fire in the room for Graham, and left him a note on the nightstand. It was beside the water, and the aspirin.
Then, he grabbed his gear that was in the kitchen, and carried it down toward the water.
The world outside was peaceful and silent. It was bliss all around him as the birds chirped, and the grass was soaked with dew.
He could smell heather from the flat land not far from the water, and it was something he could get accustomed to.
Without a doubt.
Hell.
He wouldn’t even mind having to share a castle with some ghosts.
On the lake, when he reached it, the water looked like glass. Nothing moved, not even a bug landing on the water, or a fish coming up to seek out food.
Everything was still sleepy, and he wasn’t shocked.
It was damn early, but he liked being up and out in nature in the morning. He’d run to stay in shape, and maybe later, after his dive, he’d do just that.
As the sun flickered down onto the water, he hoped it wasn’t going to be too cold.
Then again, he had brought insulated diving gear just in case.
He had a job to do, and the sooner he got it over with, the quicker he could deal with Graham and talk to him about the letters he’d left for him.
Because that’s what they needed to do.
