Sander had been sitting there, on his sleeping bag, staring at the pictures around him. The darkness was creeping closer again, slowly, watching him eyelessly. Sander had grabbed on the only thing that comforted him, a light that kept the shadow at bay. He had torn off all the pages of Robbe from his sketchbooks and put them up on the walls and door. The boy with soft black eyes, a little sad, with a kind of loneliness hiding under the surface. But who could smile so genuinely, unquestioning, a smile that touched your heart. Who could laughed with that ring in his voice, a joy so pure, like a child, sweet, laced in wonder; it rose and fell in vivid colors, rich, mesmerizing. The melody flowed in harmony with the world, sang to him, wiping away the clouds with its glow. When he laughed with him, he felt like a hand had reached out and took his in theirs. The light was dim now, but it's all he had, so Sander kept it with him.
*
Voices. Obscure, drifting from below. Vague noises, thumping, murmurs through the walls. Sander looked up from the page he was drawing. It must be morning, the classes would started soon. It didn't matter, the noises were low enough to be ignored. Meds, I have to take my meds. He got up, unwrapped a sandwich that he bought, it was the only thing he ate after the croque yesterday. He was not hungry, again, but he forced it down and took his dose. He had to get out and got more food and water at some point, or left. He couldn't be bother. Later, he would bothered about it later. He went back to the desk. Sander had woken up from a slumber last night and unable to sleep again. He had started painting after that, or more like brushing black across white pages. At one point, he poured an entire bottle of black onto a sketch, his hand moved, following his thoughts. He put these up on the wall too. Then he had stared at Robbe, and some time later there had been new pages of silver moon, of blue and yellow with shadows peeping at the edges.
He looked back down at the paper in front of him. It was a memory. Their first kiss. Sander had been drawing their story from the first time they met. There was a kind of persistence to put all of it onto papers; physical, tangible, immortal. His fingers were slow, but everything was clear in his mind, still vivid, so he took his time. Time passed and he put them up one by one. The supermarket, feeding Robbe a croque, their tunnel race, Robbe stroking his hair, carrying Robbe on his back, sleeping next to him. The darkness was there, watching from a short distance away, almost in amusement, but they didn't come closer. Robbe filled him and he stayed with him.
*
He checked inside him. Four? Six? Three? Stupid scale. Sander turned on his phone, it's after eleven in the morning. Lots of voicemails. His mom mostly, asking where he was and to just call back or came home. There was a couple from Britt. They sounded worried, or maybe Sander just wanted to think that they were. There was a voicemail from Robbe. Sander's finger hovered for a second. He pressed on it and listened to that voice: Sander, what you said, it's not true. There is something between us. A beat. A soft, trembling voice: I love you, Sander. Please, just call me as soon as you get this, okay?
Sander listened to the message again a couple of times, just to drink in the sound of his voice. Did he know that he check out from the hospital? Did he go there to talk to him? Doesn't matter. Sander had let go of him. He thought of his mom. I had made her worried, again. He should called her and apologized. Felt like that was all his life about, apologizing. Would the word still has its meaning if you kept saying it? There were times when he said them because he knew he should, without even feeling it. Sometimes he was not sure what he apologized for. The guilt and self-hatred would added another layers then. His mom's shocked face flashed again in his head. Everything he said to her in the past. Maybe his mom just stay because she thought she should, like an obligation. Maybe she already considered leaving him. Is it possible to unlove your child? He would hurt her again, over and over. And the shame, the shame and the guilt.
Sander felt so alone, he wanted someone to touch him, so that he could believed that he was real. He didn't want to see anyone, not like this. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to live. Sander's hand moved and he pressed on Robbe's voicemail again. Moments passed and he sent him a text: Everything I do is Chernobyl. I can not protect you from the fall out.
Robbe's reply came in immediately: Everything okay?? Where are you?
Sander typed: I'm taking shelter until the meltdown is over. Somewhere safe.
He put down the phone, flipped on a new paper and started to draw. Sander was tired, but he wouldn't be able to sleep, and the persistence was there, so he moved his hand unhurriedly, pulling the memory from his head.
*
The door opened. Sander sighed and slowly turned his head around.
"Sander." It was Robbe, the sun in his night.
Sander closed his eyes in pain. Guilt, shame, regret, longing, fear and something else. Robbe had closed the door.
He stood up, "What are you doing here? You have to leave." I don't want you to see me like this.
He took his arm and pushed him toward the door, "You have to stay the fuck away."
"Hey, Sander.." Robbe exclaimed. I just pushed him. Sander let go of him.
He threw his hands frustatingly in the air. Trembling, he said, "Just stay away, okay?"
He moved to the desk and leaned his hands on the surface, controlling the emotions that started to bubble up. Why? why should you have to come?
He tried to hold himself in, but his voice shook, "Leave, please." His hands quivered, yearning for something, he closed them into fists.
Please I don't want to hurt you. Not again. I can not handle this. A small sob escaped him. He hold it back and pleaded, "Just leave."
"No, I am not leaving," Robbe said in a soft voice. He heard his footsteps moving toward him.
Sander sat down tiredly, "Please.." The sudden surge of emotions were overwhelming and he felt his strength wavering.
"I am not leaving," Robbe whispered. He crouched next to him.
Sander didn't look at him. He was afraid of what he would saw reflected in those eyes. Do you see me differently now?
He said without looking at him, "That's what you say now." Because you will change your mind.
"I'll be saying that tomorrow as well." There was a solidness in his voice.
Sander thought about this. Then he shook his head and stated firmly, "I don't believe you."
"But it's true," Robbe whispered again.
Sander didn't reply. You left Robbe, and you will again. One day, you will.
"Fuck man, Sander.." Robbe touched his fist on the desk. The touch moved something in him, and he felt the yearning again, he resisted it.
"I was so worried.. I thought you.." Robbe trailed off.
Robbe exhaled and he felt him kissed his knuckles, "I thought you would—" He didn't finish it, but Sander knew what he meant.
"I just cause problems. I'm toxic. Everything I touch, it—" his voice quivered, and he turned to Robbe, "Everything I touch just breaks."
Robbe looked at him, "That's not true."
It is true.
"Hey.." Robbe pressed his fingers on his hand. Sander sniffed and turned away.
"Sander.. Look at me."
He couldn't.
Robbe pressed his hand gently, "Look at me."
Sander took a shaky breath and turned to that voice. He stared down into his eyes, searching.
"You touched me, and I've never felt anything like that before."
Is that wonder in his voice? Is it possible? Sander looked down at his hand, Robbe was stroking it.
Robbe said again in a tender voice, "I love you."
You said that before too. Will you be saying it tomorrow? A month from now? Shaking his head, he said, "You say that now, sooner or later—"
He took another shaky breath, "I'll hurt you again, and you'll grow to hate me." And I can't have that. It's better to remember you loving me. Let me have that.
"No, no," Robbe said firmly and stood up. He leaned closer and looked into his eyes, "Not in this universe."
Sander looked at him, wanting to believe him, needed to. Afraid to believe it, just to have it all fell apart. Just to lose him all over again.
"In this one, I stay with you."
Sander gazed at Robbe, so many colors warring in him, pushing and pulling at him. He felt so tired, trying to hold everything inside from tearing him apart.
Robbe said, "What happens later, we'll deal with that then." He squeezed his arm.
"Come on, let's go do something." He tugged on his fist, and opened it.
Sander didn't budge.
Robbe took and hold his other hand, saying, "Come."
Sander didn't move.
Robbe tugged his hands again, "Sander. Come."
He sighed.
"Come."
Sander stood up slowly.
"What?" He asked wearily.
Robbe said, "We're gonna play a game."
Sander looked at him quietly.
"It's called.. Sander and Robbe, minute by minute."
A pause. He asked, "What are the rules?"
"The rules are that we are not going to be thinking: what if we ever.. But: What if we.. in the next minute, okay?"
"Okay."
Robbe gazed at him, "The next minute we're gonna.. kiss."
A beat and Sander said, "That's chill."
Robbe smiled, "That's chill."
Robbe put both of his hands on his neck gently and kissed him tenderly. It was soft and warm, filled with love, it reached toward him and Sander reached back slowly, hesitant at first. But every touch called to him, like a siren, calling him to the shore. And Sander leaned into that kiss, flooded with assurance and promise. He felt Robbe's arms circled his neck; strong, solid, real. It was safety, it felt like total acceptance. And he saw every walls inside him collapsed. His shoulders heaved and Sander broke down, crying into Robbe's shoulder.
He heard Robbe murmuring soothingly, "It's okay, I am here." And felt his arms wrapped around him, steadying him.
And suddenly his body was shaking uncontrollably and he sobbed like a child, holding on to Robbe. Tears pouring down his face, everything was wrenched out from inside his core. His last strength was gone and he half-fell, but Robbe's arms were around him, cradling him on the floor. Sander didn't have to hold back anymore, he could finally let go and it's like a whole weight just lifted up from him.
Kissing his hair and holding him tightly, Robbe murmured to him, "I am so happy that I found you." And Sander wept and wept in relief, because he was finally home.