That Is, Of Course, I Love You (Boreo The Goldfinch Oneshots)

Night by the Pool, Run in the Night

Third Person POV

Theo lay by the edge of the pool, watching Boris paddle around, somber and giddy at the same time, like an excited puppy who knows something's wrong. To be quite frank, they were both drunk, but different kinds of drunk. Theo lay depressed, wallowing in memories of his mother, while Boris was oblivious to all his maladies, cheerfully waffling to Theo.

"In New Guinea, there was a man on the corner of the road selling beer, and me being me, I took one, of course. Too expensive, they were, but I was naive and thirsty," Boris was saying. "Was the most disgusting shit I've ever tasted. And really, I don't even like the taste of normal beer all that much. This stuff was like... was like pig piss!" He found that analogy very clever. 

Theo was listening, he always listened to Boris, but he wasn't interested in hearing him talk about better times in different countries. What was wrong with the here and the now? Weren't he and Vegas good enough for him? Theo almost told Boris to zip it, but stopped himself.

Boris quieted immediately, looking up at Theo from his perch in the shallow end.

"C'mon, Potter, is warm," he smiled, patting the water like it was a couch to sit on. Theo shook his head, not to say no, but more of a "you're relentless. And hopeless." If someone had asked Theo how many times Boris told him to get in the water, he'd have said 30. It was, in fact, six, but Theo had no desire to be in the pool. "Please..." Boris whined. 

Theo thought of his mom, and in turn thought of the accident. As much as it pained him to think, something like that could happen to him, or Boris for that matter, at any given moment. Sure, the chances were slim, but weren't the chances slim for his mother? It was like he opened a new door, a new understanding, in his mind- he should have as much fun as he could while he could. 

With no warning, Theo jumped in.

"Potter! You did it!"  Boris attempted to walk to Theo, remembered he was in a pool, and proceeded to swim in his direction. 

"I did," Theo smirked. 

The two boys floated on their backs in the water, gazing at the stars. Occasionally, one would sneak a glance at the other, to see the pure wonder and childlike and innocent curiosity on his face. Once Boris noticed Theo looking at him, so he turned and smiled. Theo, cheeks flaming, swiveled his head back to the sky. 

Then, all of a sudden, the mood darkened. The proverbial cloud covered the metaphorical sun. Maybe only Theo felt it, though, for he abruptly began to cry. He thought of all the families loosing their members in unlikely accidents, how statistics promised they wouldn't die this way, but they did; they did, and their loved ones died a little along with them. He thought about all the people passing his mother on the street, strangers, thinking, "Wow, she's beautiful." Or people being touched by random acts of kindness, performed by strangers who later died in plane crashes or terrorist attacks or natural disasters. They would never know how those strangers are dead. Gone. Never, ever to make an impact on someone again.

"Potter? Potter, what's the matter?" In his drunken state, though, Boris did know something was wrong.

"F*ck you. F*ck you," Theo slurred through a sob. Boris was taken aback. 

"Pott-" He was cut off by a hand to his jaw, an explosion resonating in his whole head. "What the f*ck?" he said angrily.

Thoughts flashed in Theo's mind, Boris might have seen his mother before. It was unlikely, but in passing, maybe when Boris visited the states years ago, he could've seen her in a moment that Theo hadn't. And his mother's death taught him that however unlikely something was, those things still happen.