The entire journey back from Greece was tense and it seemed that every time one of them opened their mouths, the other got offended. Owen couldn't figure out what was going wrong but as soon as they walked into their bedroom to deposit their luggage, the sight of their bed had him sitting on it and sobbing. When Vincent sat with him, he clung to him and choked out a plethora of apologies, admitting that he hated fighting with him and he would do better. The only problem with Vincent's acceptance was that Owen didn't understand what he'd done wrong but it was soon lost in a turbulent bout of make-up sex.
Owen and Vincent went together to Karen's the next night to share their news and show her the ring. She seemed overjoyed and Owen's feelings were the same, in her presence, the certainty of his future reassuring her (and him) somehow. Once he was alone, though, it wasn't the same. The fight they'd had on the way back from Greece still weighed heavily on his mind, for he couldn't figure out if Vincent expected more of him or less, and whether his own expectations for his lifelong achievements would be realised by changing species. Everything felt unfinished. The only place he felt safe thinking these thoughts - and pulling off the ring to stare pensively at it, twisting it around in his fingers and wondering what would happen if he suggested they get an extra 'I' engraved onto it, to delay things a year - was on the toilet, where Vincent wouldn't disturb him.
By the time a week had passed, Owen had defined their first travel destination; China, to see the Great Wall again. It had been one of the first places Vincent had taken him as a child but, because he had been a child, he'd only been able to see it at night with Vincent chaperoning him. Now he wanted to see it by day and Vincent was agreeable. They only spent two weeks in China, touring around a little, before they returned to the States. Once there, their next destination was inbound and they set off for the Grand Canyon, Las Vegas and San Francisco. Owen did all the tourist things by day and fell into his old habit of waking Vincent at the start of the night. Sometimes, he'd done something through the day that had encouraged him to leave his ring by the bed (so he didn't lose it) and he would hasten to replace it as soon as he noticed (though he was sure there were a couple of times Vincent noticed first and he felt terribly guilty about that).
After they returned from their United States journey, Owen did something he'd never got the chance; he took that road trip with his friends to Florida while they were still on vacation. Vincent didn't go, of course, and it wasn't the same as it might have been had they done it when they left high school, but Owen still had a fantastic time. He kept his ring in its box buried at the bottom of his bag, though, because he didn't want to face any questions from his three buddies. By the time he came back a week later, bronzed and still mildly hung over, his ring finger had a smooth tan but he didn't think Vincent would notice.
The tension returned to their relationship, though, unwelcome as it was. It was already mid-September, his friends were returning to study and jobs and he was just counting down the days until his mortal life ended, sitting on a toilet and spinning a ring that didn't hypnotise him but did weigh him down with questions. Was he good enough? Had he done enough? Would he regret it? He had no answers and he eventually realised Vincent didn't, either, when he broached the subject of his final trip - from Mongolia, through Russia, Finland, Sweden and Norway - and he was asked if he wanted Vincent to accompany him.
He was stunned and believed, from the way it was said, that Vincent didn't actually want to accompany him on anymore of his 'Goodbye Sun' tours, even if it would be his last. The screaming tension between them meant that it would have been easier to go alone, but he didn't want to - especially having just returned from a 'boy's week' with his buddies. He told Vincent that whatever he thought was best worked for him, to which Vincent told him he should decide and let him know, then walked from the room to stare unseeingly at his book. When Owen eventually followed after him, insisting that of course he wanted Vincent with him - though he'd understand if he didn't want to come - he was relieved to be told that Vincent would book two berths everywhere they were going.
Sadly, they should've booked three, for Tension was with them again. This journey had plenty of sights and dazzling day scenery for Owen to appreciate, but he found himself spending more than one day close to where they were staying, watching Vincent sleep and fretting. He was going for stress-relieving runs in the morning and the evening in an effort to wear out the worry that he was losing Vincent - despite the way he kept up appearances and smiled back at Owen - because he wasn't good enough. He was trying not to voice his doubts, but it seemed like Vincent wanted something from him and the only thing he could think it might be was something more meaningful than his good looks and fit body. It felt like that was all he had to offer, though and it was killing him that he was going to make the least inspiring companion possible.
One day, after a day-long tour of the southern Swedish wilderness spotting native animals and enjoying lunch cooked over an open fire, Owen got a most unexpected offer. One of the men that he'd done the tour with invited him out to dinner with a smile that promised more than just food would be sampled. It was nothing Owen hadn't turned down numerous times since becoming involved with Vincent - as his lover had also had to do - but this time was very different because this time he actually considered going. It was a brief hesitation in the end, nothing more, before he politely turned down the offer and talked about neeeding to get back to his fiancé. It was taken with a philosophical shrug and Owen had gone about his business, making his way back to the hotel in an increasingly degenerative state.
He sat by the bed in the armchair, watching Vincent sleep and crying, twirling his ring in his hands and wondering what he could do. His view had drastically changed in the past three months and now he was miserable about his upcoming birthday for an entirely different reason than the one he'd felt the night he'd said yes to the love of his life. Now, he was terrified that he'd bind himself to Vincent and they'd never again see eye to eye as they once had, and he'd always have no idea why. Somewhere along the way, they'd lost each other and now, with his birthday looming in just a couple of weeks, he was mourning the loss of Vincent, not the sun, and wondering how he could ever find his way back to happiness without him.
When Vincent's eyes opened, Owen had blown his nose repeatedly and stopped crying (though his eyes were puffy from it) but he couldn't stop sniffling every now and then. He'd taken off his thick yellow and black ski parka but still wore the pants, thick navy blue socks poking out the end of the mustard yellow material and a light blue turtle-neck jumper on his torso. His gloves were gone and he was staring at the ring when Vincent first stirred, but he didn't say anything until he was sure his lover was properly awake. "I nearly had dinner with another man, tonight," he said mildly, looking past the ring at Vincent in the bed, his voice thick from crying out his guilt about it for the past hour. He wondered if his statement would have the impact that he wanted it to, or whether Vincent would merely shrug this off, too.
