~Rob's perspective~
I ring the doorbell. Was it a good idea to come here? My instincts are telling me to turn around, go home, do anything but be here. Leave the man inside to be by himself, let him cry, let him go through it alone. But something urges me to go in there. If he doesn't want to talk, I will go home, take a nice bath, read a book, or work on a speech.
But if he needs someone to talk to, I will be there for him. I will sit with him and listen to his problems. I will be a supportive... friend.
The doorbell rings again. Why isn't he opening the door? The light is on, so he is there. Right as I want to look through the windows to see if I can find him the door opens. Bloodshot eyes meet mine. Oh, this was a bad idea.
"Sorry, I can come back later if-" the words escaped my lips without my consent.
"No- please stay." his eyes are pleading, a tear almost escaping them.
"O- uhh- Okay.."
I follow him into his house. The living area is a mess. Bottles are scattered around the floor, tissues scrunched up into little balls in between them.
"How much have you been drinking this past week?"
"I don't know. Like six..."
"Six what."
"Sixteen bottles?"
"Jesus. Well, it's wine, so that's not too bad."
"I'm sorry for the mess, I wasn't expecting anybody."
"No that's fine. It's-" his eyes meet mine "-yeah, fine." I clear my throat.
He looks down and I took in his appearance. He is wearing an oversized sweater on top of sweatpants. His feet are bare and his hair is a mess. He does not look like the well-groomed man who showed up at the parliament every day. A ray of sun hits the side of his face as he looks up again. Even when they're red and swollen his eyes are still beauti- No Rob, stop. He's drunk and he just got out of a divorce.
"So- uhh- how are you... holding up?"
It's a stupid question, I have eyes. I try to look at anything but him, but the state of his house is not much better than him.
"Oh well you know-"
Suddenly he breaks down. Tears come pouring out of his already swollen eyes.
"Oh, hey, hey!"
I pull him into a hug. He digs his face on my shoulder and I can feel his hands desperately clinging to me. A sudden heat rises in me. Am I really-
I ignore it and grab him tighter.
"It's okay-"
"I'm sorry, I'm a mess. It's just that-"
He stops, choking on his words. My hand travels to his head, my fingers massaging the back of his head.
"It's okay, you don't have to explain yourself. I understand..."
I hear a soft whisper. If my head had not been next to his I would not have heard it.
"I just don't know how to live without them."
My heart shatters as a tear escapes my eye. What do you even say at a moment like this? What do you say to a man who lost his family? What do you say when you love- no stop it. Pull yourself together.
A little water stain stays on Jesse's shoulder as I pull back. My hand drops down to Jesse's face.
"You'll figure it out okay? I know it's not easy. I know you can't see it right now, but you are a strong man. You are a part of a government for Christ's sake! It's okay if you feel down about it. It's okay if you don't know how to do it, but I know that you will find a way. You always do. Okay?"
He sniffles and I wipe the last tear of his face with my thumb. I pull him closer once more. God, he smells amazi- UGH STOP.
"I can see why you would become a.. a... poli- pol- p"
"Politician?"
"Yes, polizizion."
I do not even want to know how drunk he really is right now.
"You can speak really well. I think. I don't know if I'll remember it, or remember it right now..."
I pull back and look into his eyes. He can not seem to focus his eyes.
"Okay, let's get you into bed."
He doesn't resist, so I lead him up the stairs having to catch him a couple of times as he stumbled. I am tucking him in as he drifts away.
"Hey Rob?"
"Yes?"
He grabs my hand. I freeze in confusion. Why is he-?
"Thank... you."
His eyes close and his head falls back. His grip loosens. I look at his sleeping face, not knowing what to do with myself, my hand still touching his. I should really get going- but just one minute more.
My thumb rubs over his hand as I lean forward. A lost curl gets pushed back. My hand lingers a little too long, but his face nudges towards it. I shake my head and my hand leaves his.
When I am back downstairs I pick up the empty wine bottles and throw away the used tissues. The kitchen is full of empty packaging and dirty dishes. I load up his dishwasher and throw away his trash. When everything is nice and clean again the sun has turned golden.
I walk up the stairs and take a peek inside. The rays give his skin an even more sunkissed tone. He has a soft smile making his face shine from within. I smile as I walk towards the curtains to close them.
"Rob.."
It was the softest of a whisper. I turn around, but he is fast asleep. I sneak out of his bedroom, only stopping at the door to whisper "Goodnight". He turns in his sleep, looking content. As I bike home his face won't leave my mind. How nice would it be to wake up next to that face?