I was packing like a madman. I only had two hours until Matt comes and picks me up for our trip to my English estate. We changed the plan from going for Christmas (he had a family thing) to spending a New Years Eve there. I was so fucking excited. We will have the whole house to ourselves. Margo went to her friends' for a girls night. Vanessa is still stuck in Ohio, Caleb and Charlie are both with their families and Dylan went back to New Zeland for the holidays, which meant that there will be no possible distractions. Not like last year, when it was one emergency after the other. I was trying to find my good socks when the bell rang. I yelled for them to come in.
"Aron?" was said in Matts' deep voice.
I came out of my walking closet. It was still 18.00, he wasn't supposed to come until at least 20.00.
I gave him a quick kiss. Only then did I notice the unusual sadness in his eyes.
"Hey," I said softly as my hand brushed through his hair "What's wrong?"
He sighed and stepped away from me. He sat on the couch and I did the same.
"I need...I need to tell you something," his voice was so quiet. I know that whatever was coming wasn't good.
"You aren't pregnant, are you?" I tried to lighten the mood and ignore the nervous beating of my heart.
He chuckled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Just tell me," I urged him.
He clasped his hands together and took a deep breath: "Do you remember that exchange program I said that there is no way I will get chosen for?"
I nodded.
"Well turns out I did. And...it's in Nigeria."
I bit the inside of my cheek and blinked a few times. If I remember correctly that internship lasts for more than 2 years.
"Um...ok. When, ah, when are you supposed to be going?"
He seemed to find my carpet extremely interesting as he spoke: "On the 3rd of January."
"What?! And you decide to tell me this now?! Four fucking days until you go?!"
I didn't know what I was more. Angry or hurt.
"I thought I was going in February, but they gave me an option of going sooner."
That didn't make me any less pissed.
"I don't care! You should have told me, even if you went a year from now! How long have you known you are going?"
He started fiddling with his fingers.
"Matthew!" he looked up at me "How long?"
"Since September," he answered in barely a whisper.
I stood up and tried to calm myself by walking around the room. It obviously didn't work.
"FOUR MONTHS! You knew for four fucking months?! And you didn't think you would mention it?!"
He just shrugged. For all the talk about how I was the childish one, he really knew how to act like a damn kid.
"Well?!"
"I don't know why I didn't tell you?!"
If we were in any other situation I would probably give him a detailed psychological analysis of why he didn't do it, which would end with me just calling him a coward. But when his voice cracked, so did my angry facade. I sat back down beside him and put one arm around him.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he said while noseling my neck.
"I would say it wasn't your fault, but you know..."
He chuckled slightly. I turned to him and hugged him tighter. He brought his hands around my waist and pulled me closer. My head was now resting on his shoulder, inhaling his scent. My eyes stung with tears, but I didn't let them fall.
"Are you angry?" he asked after some time.
"Yes," I answered immediately, but the crack in my voice showed that anger wasn't all I was feeling.
"I'm angry and sad and-and everything in between if that makes any sense," I said a little louder, more frustrated and broke the embrace.
I moved a little bit further away from him.
"If you don't want me to go I..."
"No, I don't want you to go," I cut him off " I really, REALLY, don't want you to."
He looked at me with...I couldn't decipher with what actually. But it was definitely closer to guilt than to anything else.
"But you are. Going. Because I rather don't have you, than have you unhappy and resenting me."
He gulped. "Then you come with me."
My heart skipped a beat like it was telling me I should do exactly that. And for a split second all I wanted was to say yes.
"No. My whole life is here. And I just can't..." I took a deep breath, because the tears were, again, threatening to fall. I have never cried in front of him and I'm not about to start now. I stood up and turned away, gathering my composure. His hands were suddenly holding me from behind.
"I understand," he responded quietly, tenderly.
I relaxed and put my palm over his.
"We could try long distance," I suggested.
He chuckled again. But this time it had a sad undertone: "We both know that would never work with us. We get pissy when we can't see each other for a week. And you think we would manage to be apart for 2 years?"
I smiled. He, unfortunately, had a point. I nodded in agreement. We stayed like that for a while. Just enjoying each others warmth. Both knowing it was the last time.
"What now?"
I sighed and closed my eyes: "You kiss me, then leave through that door. I try to erase every trace of your existence and bitch about you for ages to Vanessa. I try to get over you, with probably the stupidest of methods. In a month I get nostalgic and decide to call you. I stare at the phone long enough to get stopped by Caleb or Dylan or someone. I'm good for some time until I find a picture or a T-Shirt and then start the ˝feeling sorry for myself˝ process all over again. But in some time, down the road, it gets better and it doesn't hurt as much anymore."
"I see you put a lot of thought into our breakup."
"It isn't specific to ours. Just a routine I usually go through."
He spun me around and kissed me. I held onto him tighter, trying to memorize the way his lips felt on mine. The way his tongue tasted. We pulled apart.
"Wow," was the only thing that came to mind.
"Yeah."
Our foreheads were pressed together now. My fingers still clutching his shirt.
"That was the first step well done. What was the second one again?"
I smiled and moved away from him.
"You leaving."
He glanced at the door for a second and then back at me. I nodded. I just needed him to leave right at this moment, otherwise, I will make him stay. We didn't say a word as he walked towards the door. No ˝I will miss you˝ or ˝I love you˝. Not even a goodbye. It wasn't needed. The moment he closed the door I slumped to the floor and let the tears fall.
X
Maybe drinking myself into oblivion wasn't the best idea, but I just couldn't convince myself to give a fuck. I was sitting at the bar of some gay club me and Matt came to sometimes, drowning my sorrow in vodka. I turned to the crowd dancing to the loud beat of a song I couldn't quite recognize. After a few moments, my eyes fixed on three bodies moving against each other. Two girls, one redhead and the other with dark green hair. Both wearing dresses that revealed just enough. The man in the middle must have been having a great time.
His dark hair was made up in a bun, swaying with the movement. I couldn't see his face, but his legs and ass were pretty damn nice in those jeans. The shirt was clinging to him just enough to know that he was lean but well built. My drunken brain decided that one-night stand was exactly what I needed. I was just about to walk up to him when he turned around and locked eyes with me. His green eyes showed surprise, but there was no way, NO WAY, he could have been more taken aback than I was.
"Lukas?"