𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 | 𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊 [Collins]

Chapter 15 - Departure

(revised)

Those past days together had been magical, perfect, out of time. Spending time with the person you love, it was all life should have been about. You shouldn't have to prepare to say goodbye to the love of your life without knowing when you'll see him again. You shouldn't have to think that you were maybe living your last moments together. All the joy I had felt during this last week had been erased by this creeping fear that was eating me from inside. I couldn't believe that the day before, we were at the museum, having our best time. I had come up with the idea, and Andrew had immediately agreed.

We had walked around the rooms and admired the few remaining masterpieces, those that had not yet been evacuated to a safer place, always holding each other hands. This perfect afternoon was engraved into my memory forever. At some point during the visit, I had lost sight of Andrew and had decided to look at the Greek statues by myself while waiting for him. I could remember how impressed I was by the realism of the work, the softness of the curves, the perfection of the stone. I was mesmerised by these petrified characters and so I had let my fingers trace the reliefs of the white marble, enjoying its coolness against my skin. I had lost myself in the contemplation of a demigod standing just before my eyes when Andrew's voice had startled me.

"I leave you for two minutes and you already replace me," he had teased me, emerging from behind a statue.

I had chuckled and let him wrap his arms around me.

"Not to sound pretentious, but I'm more handsome than this naked guy trying to steal you from me," he had joked, as always.

"Don't worry, you're the only demigod I've eyes for," I had declared and kissed his cheek to back my words.

"You know how to talk to me," he had replied before kissing my neck in an exquisite manner.

The old lady supervising the room had cleared her throat to express her disapproval at our display of affection, causing Andrew and I to chuckle like kids. I had grabbed his hand and dragged him away, to discover another room and admire other treasures. I had been amused at the fact that he was unable to focus on the paintings more than thirty seconds straight, always turning his blue eyes back to me. He had found the very best excuse; I was his favourite masterpiece. But it was the day before, and it felt like ages ago. This afternoon at the museum had given place to something way less exciting for the both of us. The Collins's house was witnessing our last moments together and these precious memories, I had to store them in my heart, in my personal museum.

Andrew's bedroom was just like I had imagined. Quite simple, not much decorated, but just enough to know it was his bedroom. He had stuck pictures of planes on the walls when he was younger, making his mother furious because it would ruin the wallpaper, but he had never intended to remove them so she had forgiven him. A chest of drawers was covered with some books about aviation and plane toys. It was impossible to ignore it was his passion and it was amazing to see he had become the person he wanted to be when he was a boy. Of course, there was football too, as clearly stated by the ball and cleats stored in a corner, but what I loved the most in his room was the photograph placed on the mantelpiece next to the window; a photograph of Andrew with his two sisters posing on a beautiful beach. It had probably been taken fairly recently considering how mature Andrew already looked.

"Where was it?" I asked him as he was rummaging through his drawers to look for appropriate clothes to bring to Merston. He looked up to me to know what I was talking about.

"Scotland!" he said with a beaming smile. "In my hometown, actually."

"Really? You lived close to the sea?" I wondered.