His Hidden Love

13 | Are you letting go?

It was a good day, Nate liked to believe, it was a good day, he enjoyed the normalcy.

But now the time almost seemed to be stopped, as if he left the whole world outside when he entered his apartment, his old apartment, the one he used to live in when he was in college, or maybe the world shut him out, locked him in there.

Because nothing has changed there, everything was just as he left it, his mom did say that she came to clean every now and then, but she never shifted anything and now Nate was choking on too many memories.

He flicked the switch to turn the light on as the night rolled in and everything was a lot more haunting with an illuminated surrounding, in center he saw the ridiculously big blue couch he got back then, and he quickly took a deep breath to make sure he was still doing it, that couch was too big for him, but that was the thing, it was not only just for him.

Everything he bought, he put, the way he altered his entire apartment was for two people, because even though no one actually lived with him, there was always someone at his place, almost all the time and now he absolutely hated it, hated that couch too.

He hated that couch, not because it was such a bright shade of blue out of Nate's taste, or not because it was too big for the lounge and stood out too much, he hated that couch, because he could see it so clear, the image of him and Finn pressed together huddled there under a blanket.

The fools in trouble grins the always wore, watching shitty romance movies none of them really liked, focusing on touching each other more than the movie, Nate could see it like an old picture as he stared at the couch and he quickly shook his shook and yes the image vanished like fog with the air, but the feelings? The feelings lingered and Nate could feel his heart sink.

Turning on his heels, he turned the lights off again and went towards his bedroom, when he arrived in the morning he didn't really pay much attention to it or anything, just wanting to get out of there and do what he was here for.

But now, he couldn't help and notice every single thing as he entered his room, the pictures, the decoration of someone else's preference, striding towards the suitcase threw open on the bed, he picked his pajamas.

And just as he opened the small cabinet of the bathroom to brush his teeth, he saw two packed toothbrushes and wondered how they got there or for how long they had been there.

Under the dim light of the bathroom, his reflection in the mirror looked nothing less than a ghost, dark circles making his eyes heavy, so puffy and red, skin dry and neglected and he heaved a worn out sigh, finishing brushing his teeth.

Nate was tired, actually that was an understatement, he was completely exhausted, shattered, as if he needed to sleep for a lifetime or two to feel human and real again.

After removing the suitcase from the bed, he dusted the bed sheets, when his eyes fell on the small picture frame on the bedside table, beside the lamp.

And every shred of stubbornness told him no, the voice in his head screamed, thrashed, no, don't, but he didn't give it any heed, he knew exactly what it was, after all it was him who put it there, yet it didn't stop him from picking it up, from seeing it.

Of course, the picture was the same, it was carved painfully in his heart, sometimes it bled there, but it was his favorite one.

The picture of two guys, Nate and Finn, clicked while strolling the streets at midnight, it was Finn who took the picture, he had his arm wrapped around Nate's waist, who squished his cheek roughly making a pout at the camera and Nate remembered tripping on the ground right after they clicked it, because they were not looking at the front, remembered the cursing and dumb laughter.

He was hearing it now, it was echoing in between the quiet walls of his apartment and if he listened carefully, he was sure he could still hear it.

A puff of air escaped his lips and he smiled to himself, mockingly, thinking he was going insane, putting the frame back in its place.

His body melted on the bed when he laid down, stretching leisurely like a cat.

It was too early to sleep, but he didn't want to do anything, knowing he wouldn't be able to anyway and even though he couldn't sleep, he was ready to spend some time scrolling on his phone.

— or so what he thought.

But, it had been more than an hour and nothing enticed him, turning the phone on and off, fumbling with it, before letting it drop on the bed just as the screen turned black again.

He rolled to his side, stuffing his arms under his head and curled to himself, recalling the afternoon, recalling Winter's words and what he finally had accepted.

Maybe, maybe Winter was right, maybe things could be easy, maybe just like she said, he was the one who needed to forgive Finn, he was the one really needed to let go.

But, letting go of the past meant... then what would he cling to keep himself going through his life? What would keep him held onto.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled shakily, rolling back on his back and gulped, because he realized that Finn never asked him for forgiveness.

Yes, there was a desperate need to fix that was broken, but he didn't ask for forgiveness, not even once.

Before questioning himself, that if Finn were to ask, would Nate forgive him? Would he be ready to let go and finally move on?

And the answer finally came to him like the way wind brushes your hair when you open your window at night, quietly. The answer came to him like the way the sun gently falls below the horizon, sneakily, away from the naked eyes.

And the answer was something he knew all along that yes, he would.

He would forget everything, would forgive Finn if just asked once, just once to remind him that yes it still mattered, whatever they had, whatever they were, it mattered.

Or else, they wouldn't be able to do anything, even if all the skeletons were out.

Because he needed to forgive not for himself, but for Finn. He wanted Finn to ask for forgiveness, so that he could forgive himself too.

And maybe, maybe it would make things easier for Finn too, because they both needed to forgive each other and themselves.

A single trail of tears trickled down his eyes, falling on the pillow beneath him and Nate wished he had Finn's number, he wished he could talk to him, they could talk about anything, he didn't really care, he just needed to hear his voice.

Because he was tired of wishing, hoping, hating and holding himself back.

— And that's how he fell asleep later that night. Craving the same man who used to sleep on the same bed he was sleeping in.