As The World Falls Down

The two versions of him

When he woke up, the daylight streamed through the curtains, pressing softly on his eyelids. A smile formed on his lips, warm in his heart. He opened his eyes slowly, and found Sander gazing at him. Has he been watching me sleeping? Robbe studied his pale eyes, the line of his face, conflicting emotions on his hesitant smile, and felt his stomach dropped.

"Morning."

"Morning." Robbe replied in small voice.

Sander brushed his hair and stroked the side of his face softly, then he looked down. Silence fell between them like muffled snow and Robbe knew nothing good would come out from his lips.

"Robbe.. last night—"

He didn't want to hear it, he didn't want to hear him said that it was a mistake, that they shouldn't have done it. Robbe sat up  and turned away from him. He said flatly, holding his emotions in, "We don't have to talk about it. It won't happen again."

He stood up and put on his shorts, took his towel and went to take a shower as cold as his inside.

*

Robbe kept his words, he stayed on his side of bed, tried to be discreet when he couldn't sleep, so Sander wouldn't notice it. He didn't want him to feel obligated to reach for him, or worse, if he didn't and he would have to bear that hurt. They went as usual, that night was never spoke about, put in shadow, became another silent, unspoken agreement between them. He had spent that weekend with his mom, his dad was out of town for bussiness trip. When he went back to the flat on that Sunday night, Sander was in the sitting room with Milan, Zoe, and Senne, watching a movie together. He had looked up at him, gave him a tentative smile, Robbe had flashed a warm smile at him which he replied back warmly. Robbe sat down next to him, took the popcorns from the bowl he offered him. Despite how it went after, Robbe didn't regret that night at all, at least now he knew that Sander wanted him too. Even though he didn't know why he insisted for them to only be friends, he felt they were moving somewhere and he just had to be patient.

It was one week later after that night, when it came as a blow that he had been deluding himself, thinking things were fine between them, tricking his mind into believing that happiness was just around the corner. That afternoon when he came home  after hanging out with Jens and the others, and walking into their room, he took one look at Sander's face and knew that something bad was coming.

"Hey." He greeted, but his smile was strained.

"What's going on?" Robbe asked without preamble, a knot in his stomach. He has found a place, he's going to leave and he will go back keeping distance with me again.

Sander stood up, crossed to the other side of the room, leaning on the desk. "I need to tell you something."

Robbe waited with a lump in his throat for him to say it, for him to not say it, because he didn't think he want to hear it.

After a moment, Sander said, "You remember the aunt I told you before?"

Robbe nodded.

"She lives in France. I have called her couples times, and two days ago when we talked, she mentioned a private school there and she offered to arrange a place for me there. They have better support for kids with dyslexia and I could stay with her."

With every words, he felt ice crept up into him, bitter-cold fingers crawling slowly toward his heart. Of all the things.. this can't be happening.

He forced his voice to come out, "But, it's almost the middle of school year."

"She knows some people from the school, they can arrange it."

"I thought you are doing great at school.."

A beat. "I am.."

"So, why are you.." He trailed off, unable to finish. He didn't understand why he had to leave now, his head hurts, trying to think through, with the news hammering inside his brain.

Sander didn't reply.

Robbe felt nauseous. "Will you come back after school is over?" He asked, even though he knew the answer.

Sander looked at him, his face a patchwork of emotions, ripples formed and broke on the surface. He dropped his eyes, staring at the floor. "I don't think so. I will go to art college there."

He felt a lead pressed down on his heart, threaten to crush him. He gasped out, "When?"

"In a few weeks." Sander was still fixing his eyes on the wood-panelled floor.

Blood drained from his face, he looked away for a moment, breathing in and out. Then, it hit him. Turning back to him, he said, "You said she offered you. That means you can say no."

There was no reply, his silence was an answer enough.

"But you said yes." His voice sounded dead to his ears.

In his eyes, he saw the two versions of him. One that was standing there, by the table delivering the news. And one that was standing in front of him, stabbing him, again and again through his chest, mercilessly, relentlessly. It hurts so much, so much.

Sander looked back at him, misery on his face. "Robbe.."

Fury rose up from somehere inside his core, broke through the ice, rushed out. He embraced it, with voice drenched in cold anger, he spoke, "Just like that, huh? You'll leave, just like that."

"Robbe.." Sander took a step toward him.

He step back, shaking his head. He didn't want to hear him anymore, all his excuses, his silent rejection; he didn't want to stare at his walls, trying to pierce through or find a way to jump over it. "No. It's enough. I can't anymore."

Robbe turned around without another word, and walked out from the flat.