Resse - All just a game

A pretty shell

So... yeah sorry about that, I started listening to Maneskin and it had been two weeks with no updates. Anyway, I hope you're all okay besties <3 This chapter is mostly just an excuse for some poetic descriptions, because why not. Sponsored by my religious trauma, 'cause hell yeah. I'm going to sleep now because I'm going in vacations tomorrow (well, today).

Of course it had happened again, their momentum was too great, nothing could kept them apart. They could pretend, for a few days, for a few weeks, but they would ultimately fail, fall back, sink again. They were like celestial bodies outside of their orbits, attraction between them was critical, they could dance around each other all they wanted, they would eventually collide and only destruction would remain.

A month had passed by, or maybe two, and the small hotel room had finally been abandoned for an unfurnished and impersonal apartment, far from the centre, close to the sea. But in the privacy of the unfamiliar bedroom, their affair felt more like an addiction than a love story, irresistible, consuming, unsatisfactory.

Once they were done, barely, the stolen moment quickly forgotten, they would already be thinking about next time. And each encounter was more and more a bittersweet release, a quick fix, a habit, a reflex. What had drawn them together, this spark that Tik Tok had ignited what seemed an eternity ago, had died somewhere behind hidden doors, the secrecy, the indecision choking them, spoiling the beauty of what they could have been.

Rob had contemplated the irony for hours, how he had fled the loneliness of his life to finally lose his relationship and his friend to this, how he had always known it was a mistake, yet pursuing it like a fool, how he had bet everything on a losing hand, with so much confidence. It was laughable, pathetic, yet he was not strong enough to stop this, and the helpless hope was destroying him.

The sky was too grey and sad for an early morning of June, and he could hear the wind blowing and the faint sound of crashing waves in the overwhelming silence preceding a busy day. Jesse was fast asleep, peaceful for once, no denial, no lies in the soft lines of his face, entangled in off-white sheets bought not so long ago. He had not spent the night since their first time, their first break up, and it was strange to have him there in the nascent lights of a nostalgic Saturday.

Jolein was out of town with the kids for the weekend, he suspected the need to distance herself from her husband, and he could only understand and envy this. He, too, wished he could fly far from this trap, far from this doom attraction, to have the courage to end this.

He admired her, her strength, her fidelity, her devotion. How she was sacrificing herself for her family, how she was achieving the selflessness he was incapable of, yet remaining dignified in the process. This was true love. Not just the joy and the bliss of a shared moment. True love was ugly, messy, it hurt. It was not always worth it. Yet it had to be.

He strangely felt close to her, on a spiritual level, while being the root of her suffering, and he wanted to be her, but not in a jealous way. He’d rather be the cheated husband than the lover, rather be the home, steady, familiar, suffocating sometimes, than the secret hotel room, rather be the ordinary affection than the passionate sex. Because Jesse was always coming back to this, to her.

Despite his adrenaline-high promises, his moaned oaths, his empty vows, his broken covenants, he would always betray these words, because she was his true future, and he was just a passing fancy. It was her, always had been. She was his guiding star. Yet they had a lot in common. They could have been friends. In another reality.

His eyes went back to Jesse, to the almost angelic features, to the glorious nudity, too beautiful to be anything but a work of art. The scene had a divine quality, the traits of a sculpture, the drape around his hips reminded him of master paintings, he was a temple he had profaned, a stolen artefact, fascinating, attracting, painfully radiating an unreachable fulfilment, an inaccessible peace, unmoving, unshakeable. He was not his. He never had. Never would.

He had no tears anymore, not had in a while, only in a state of dull torpor, a detached observer of a cataclysm he had created, as if watching the flood destroying everything he had arrogantly built for years, with a morbid captivation. He couldn’t look away.

He knew he should savour their morning, it would probably be months before their next occasion, but even this seemed corrupted by the lies they were embroiled in. It was no blessing. He was feeling claustrophobic in the impersonal apartment, suffocating with the guilt that he couldn’t silence anymore, he was out of place here, like a stranger in this place he tried to call home. It was transitory, it would not last, he had this strange certitude, he wouldn’t live here for long.

He longed for the soothing presence of the sea, for a walk on the beach, for the forgiveness of the waves, no judgement, only the shushing of the moving waters. If she could transform mountains and cliffs into sand, so small he could hold the world in his hands, she could easily crystallise his grief and culpability into so tiny pieces he wouldn’t be so heavy to bear.

He sighed, abandoning the lukewarm bed with just a regretful caress to the wild curls of his lover. He had to leave. It was an evidence. As the door was quietly closing on himself, he realised he was taking an almost cruel pleasure at the idea of Jesse awaking alone for once, of being the one who was flying away in the first hours of a new day. A bitter revenge for countless lonely mornings, with the cold sheets as only companions, and fainted scratches on his back as only memories.

Maybe this would finally open his eyes, make him realise that Rob would not be waiting for him forever, that he didn’t own him. Maybe he’d look for him, be desperate again, maybe he would truly stand a chance then. He brokenly laughed at this burst of hope, smothering it immediately. It wouldn’t happen, because it was never Jesse’s fault, everything was about him, but never because of him. He would never question himself.

The air was cool, salty, the wind blowing, the promenade deserted, too early, too grey. The colour of the sea was indescribable, tormented, disappearing far away in the heavy clouds. Majestic. Overpowering. Humbling.

And for a while he forgot about all his problems, strolling, his now bare feet sinking into the wet sand at each step, his eyes searching for a pretty shell among the colourful pebbles. It had always been his favourite activity, it was calming, comforting. A silver glimmer caught his attention, but it was only a polished scrap of metal, not a seashell.  He remembered how much more there were when he was a child, all shapes, everywhere, but the global warming had made them rare on this beach.

This sad thought led to another one. This one thing he had put away for days, not daring to really contemplate the idea. The email. The proposition. Last year, he wouldn’t have even considered it, maybe he wouldn’t even have opened it. But he was another person now, so he had read it. Multiple times.

It was a great opportunity to be honest. It would be good for his career, for his image, for his party. He would expand his network, meet new people. And Copenhagen was a beautiful city, he loved Denmark. And it was not every day the European Environment Agency had a job offer for a Dutch politician. He could thank his Tik Tok celebrity for this at least. Yet he was unsure, because he was under the impression his motivations were wrong. He had so much reasons to go, but the biggest one was a flee.

It was a six months mission. Six months far from him. Six months to finally forget him, to move on, to heal, and then to go back to his normal life. It would be just a break in his parliamentary life, a blink, he could just focus on work.

It was so tempting to just take it, to disappear, to leave him definitely behind, it was his get out of jail free card, his joker, a checkmate in two. It would be the best for everybody, an easy win. The best for him, for Jesse, and for Jolein. His heart hurt in a painful protestation. He ignored it.

He could at least talk about it to Sigrid, it would do them no harm. And she would be discreet of course...

Hope it was interesting despite the long wait haha. I started writting another Resse fanfiction, more on the lighter side, and I planned a happy ending for it. Check it out if you want, I'll update it soon! https://www.wattpad.com/story/272154489-resse-this-light-between-us