dark paradise

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This is my first work in the fandom (which was published on ao3 in December, first), leave some feedback and love, I truly hope you enjoy it

Also the title comes from Lana Del Rey's song dark paradise and a few lyrics are mentioned near the end as well

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Today is one of the those days where getting out of bed feels like the greatest hassle. Everything is heavy and hot, the world is spinning yet it feels like a dead weight on his shoulders. He doesn't know what is right or wrong or up from down, all he knows is this one feeling, the feeling of a warm hand threading through his bleached hair so gently and softly that he feels he may crumble from the touch itself.

With all his might he tries to turn and face Robbe but he can't. He wants to but his body won't let him, his mind is telling him nothing is worth it, that he isn't worth it and it only frustrates him more. But why would Robbe still be here then? He knows everything, he's seen it all and he's still here. That must mean something.

As if Robbe can hear the gears in Sanders mind turn he puts his book down and curls into him. "Guess what?" He murmurs, voice quiet and smooth as always, looking down at him as he continues to thread his warm fingers through Sanders hair.

There isn't much Sander is able to muster up. He wants to tell Robbe he loves him, that he's listening and wants to speak as loud as he can on his love. To stand atop the highest building and shout his profound love for him. But all he can muster is a hum while his eyes are slowly blinking.

"I'm still here." He says simply, and at this point it really shouldn't surprise Sander that Robbe can read his mind but it does.

The next time he blinks, his eyes don't feel so heavy. The next time he inhales and exhales, the air feels clear.

Robbe can feel Sander start to relax, his body going limp as he kisses his tousled hair and moves off the bed. He rounds it until he's on Sanders side and finally looking at his face. "Mhm.. how about a bath?" Robbe asks, kneeling beside the bed. "As much as I love your hair, the grease is starting to turn me on and I don't know if that's a good thing." He teases, raising an eyebrow in lieu of getting his point across.

The small smile that starts to break through Sanders face telling him it does just that a he gives him a slow nod. Even in moments like this, Robbe can see the fire behind the eyes he fell for. He can feel the spark every time their skin touches and most importantly he can read Sanders thoughts, the ones he can't speak out but he can feel them anyways.

He moves to stand, slowly taking the blanket off and grabbing his hands. He pulls him up as Sander moves his feet to the floor. The cool sensation of the wooden floors sending a jolt through his body as he clenches his hands together.

"Here." Robbe says, placing his hands palm up in front of Sander. He lays his over top in his time until Robbe moves them above his hand. Tugging his shirt off over his head and through his arms, letting it fall to the floor. He moves Sanders hands back down, running his fingers through the bleached locks once more, unable to stop himself from touching Sander- reassuring him of the truth. Of the now.

He discards his own shirt quickly along with his socks and sweats, leaving him in his boxers as he places his hands out once again. "Come." He whispers, for all he knows Sander is done trying, he's ready to lay back down and rest and Robbe will tell him that's fine. He'll kiss his forehead and tuck him back in, tell him he's fond of the grease anyways and make him breakfast. But instead Sander places his hands over Robbes and pulls himself up. Making their way to the bathroom and shutting the door. He lets Sander sit on the closed toilet seat and just as he turns to go grab his phone he feels himself being pulled back.

𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 Where stories live. Discover now