Andante con Brio

CXXXIII

It didn't take Brett long to come back, but when he did he avoided Eddy's glance. He sat down on the free chair, and suddenly he was all smiles and talk with the rest of them. Eddy wanted to scream. 
What's going on, Brett? Tell me!

The whole day was torture, and their music theory lesson, with Brett right there, but still not giving him any contact, was the worst of it all. He eyed him sideways as Theo explained something he already understood. Was Brett even okay? The blue shirt quivered slightly where his chest was, almost as if his heart was hammering. 
Is it? Why is it hammering, Brett? 

He couldn't help the way his mind worked, either. He couldn't help closing his eyes and seeing the horrible scenes. Brett, breaking up with him. Brett, telling him he didn't love him anymore. Or even worse: Brett, telling him something was seriously wrong with him. 
He shook his head hard. Look. Hadn't Brett told him it was a good thing, whatever the thing he wasn't telling him was? So surely he shouldn't worry so much? 
But again. That simply wasn't the way his mind worked. 
And just then, just when he thought he might explode, Brett looked his way. His eyes were still hooded, but he gave him just the littlest, secretest smile. 
Eddy smiled back, blinked away the tears and tried to focus on the board Theo was writing on. 

Surely, if Brett was smiling at him it couldn't be so bad? 

He had to sit through the whole day, and through dinner with their housemates. Through practising after dinner, in their studio which was Brett's room to the outside world. And he was sure the others wouldn't notice anything wrong with Brett at all. He was talking quite normally, his face completely deadpan and pleasant. His comments normal and funny.
It was only Eddy, who would be able to catch the different inflictions. The slight bit of tension between the eyebrows. The fluttering of the shirt around his chest. 
When he couldn't take it anymore he put his violin down and told Brett he was going to shower. 

Look. Whatever it was that was coming, he had to brace himself. He had to be ready for anything. So he stripped quickly, threw his clothes in the hamper and stepped under the water, turning it up so hot it almost burned his skin. He held his breath, turned his face into the scalding stream and tried to let the water wash away all of the worries in his head. Tried to calm his pounding heart. Then he turned off the shower with a shock and dried himself vigorously with a harsh towel. 
Yeah, they would never get their towels as soft as his mum used to, would they? 
He put the towel around his waist and padded into their bedroom. 
Their bedroom. Would it still be their bedroom, after tonight? 
He had just finished putting on sweats and was about to head to the living room, when a disheveled looking Brett came into the room at speed, closed the door behind him and eyed him soberly. For a moment silence stretched between them like an ocean of awkward.
"Hey." Eddy said then. It was a lame text, he knew, but what else was he going to say? Because now that he finally had him here, had him alone, just the two of them, now that he would finally know what had been bugging Brett all day... suddenly he wished he could go to the living room after all, watch some stupid shit on TV with the guys, have everything be normal. Because everything after this depended on what Brett was about to tell him. 
"Hey." Brett said back, and his tone mirrored his. 
Eddy breathed in once and tried to square his shoulders. Then he walked the couple of steps to the bed and sat down. He pointed to the spot next to him. 
"So. Tell me, then."