As The World Falls Down

We are, Friends

Robbe was studying with headphones on, in his room that afternoon, notes flowing into his ears, humming softly but brokenly to the rhythym, as it was a new song he just found out. He smiled to himself, and reached for his phone next to him, scrolling through the contact quickly. Then he stopped when he realised that he was just about to text Sander to tell him about the song. A fresh stab of pain and longing pierced through him. Robbe sighed and dropped his phone back on the bed, the pain settled into dull constant throbs. This was not the first time it happened. He would see some sardonic meme or some beautiful picture and thought of Sander; he would read a comic or found something interesting, something would happen and Sander was the immediate person he wanted to tell. It would catch him by surprise everytime how much he missed him. It had been a week since that afternoon. Sander didn't contact him and Robbe didn't reach out too. Sometimes when he was passing through the yard, he would see Sander, alone. They would stare at each other across the space, and then Sander would start to move, whether toward him or not, he was not sure because he had walked away. Sander never appeared at lunch; he didn't know whether he's still with Marie or not, he didn't want to find out. He had only ever seen them together twice after that first time, and he had looked away quickly.

He went back to his paper, but his head was filled with Sander. Finally he stood up and walked to his desk, starting his laptop. He sat down on the chair and opened Sander's picture, the one he took in that empty house. His beautiful sideway profile filled the screen, looking out at the view, the vast horizon framed his black and white feature in colourful, vivid contrast, making him the more mesmerizing to look at.

"That's pretty. Isn't that Sander?"

Robbe jumped in his seat, hand quickly shut the laptop close in his alarm. He turned to see Milan standing behind him, watching him, glancing at the laptop.

"Milan, can you fucking knock for once?" He said irritatingly.

"I did knock, I called you out, you didn't answer, Robbe." Milan looked curiously at him mixed with what seemed like concern.

Robbe rolled his eyes so he didn't have to reply, and turned his back on him, hoping Milan would take the hint and gone from his room. But of course, he didn't, instead he walked closer and sat at the edge of his bed.

"Everything allright Robbe?"

"Yes."

"Tell me what's up. Anything new?"

Robbe turned to him, "Jesus, are you my mother or something?"

Milan smiled and chuckled a bit, which made him felt bad for bursting out like that. "Sorry."

Milan waved his hand in a 'it's fine' gesture and waiting for him.

Robbe looked at him hesitantly. Milan might be the person who was able to give him some insight. Robbe thought of how to voice his mind. "It's about Sander." He fell silent.

"Yes, I gather as much." After seconds passed without him saying anything else, Milan asked, "Something happened between you two?"

"It's complicated."

"I find most things in life are." Milan flashed him a kind smile.

He decided to just say it, "He kissed me." Robbe looked down.

There was a pause, while Milan was taking the information in. "Okay. That's good?"

"And then he— he gave me a handjob." Robbe felt the heat crept up his neck.

"Wow, that's fast," Milan giggled. "How was it?"

Of course Milan will ask that. Robbe looked away, he was sure his face was a tomato now.