"What is love in this temporal life, if not just a distraction from the pain that doesn't seem to end."
After losing his best friend to an unexplained suicide, Mateu finds himself left to pick up the pieces with his best friend's younger brother, Fe...
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Momo was seated at the edge of the sofa, leaning over the armrest. The weighted blanket I had taken out from the closet wrapped around his shoulders. He had just finished showering, his hair still damp. I had made him a cup of hot chocolate and placed it on the coffee table in front of him.
I could barely look at him, I just felt too guilty.
"Thanks," Momo muttered as he picked up the mug, blowing into it.
He had turned the TV on and put on a Godard film to watch, but his eyes weren't on the screen. I suppose he just put it on as a distraction, his thoughts elsewhere. Meanwhile, I sank myself into the opposite end of the sofa, leaving a gap between us.
I didn't know what to do, or whether I should speak. We had barely spoken to one another ever since that afternoon, and the air was heavy and thick. I wanted to comfort him, but I didn't dare touch him. I wanted to let him know that I was here for him, but I didn't dare say a word. I didn't dare to do anything. Instead, to keep my mind occupied I just decide to shift all my focus onto the film instead.
"What is the centre of the world for you?"
"The centre of the world?"
"Yes."
"Our first real conversation, and you ask me such amazing questions."
"It's a perfectly normal question. What's your answer?"
"Love, I guess."
There was a pause as the protagonist looked away from the camera and towards the ground.
"That's funny, I would've responded: me."
Momo stretched his arms in front of him, shrugging the blanket off his shoulders. Reaching out for his cigarettes and lighter from the coffee table, he stood up and headed out to the balcony. He shut the sliding door behind him, leaving me alone with the film. My attention shifted from the screen to him now, as he brought up a cigarette to his lips and lit it up. I watched as he leaned against the railing, a stream of white smoke blowing out of his mouth.
Eventually, I decided to join him.
"You mind having me out here with you?" I asked, as I slowly slid the door open.
"Not at all," Momo said, a slight smile on his lips.
I walked up to him, the both of us standing side by side looking down at the street below. There was nothing much going on, it was quite late already, and the street was quiet.
I let out a sigh, wanting to talk but not knowing where to begin. But to my relief, Momo was the one who spoke out first.
"I'm sorry I wasn't entirely clear with you from the start," he said. "I know it was wrong to make you do it if you weren't comfortable, but I was afraid you wouldn't agree to it otherwise."
