Work Text:
Sander now:
- Drawing even more pictures of Robbe
- Looking at the photos he took of them together but mostly the candid ones of only Robbe
- There’s one picture that he printed where Robbe is turning away and laughing, hands outstretched and this huge beautiful smile on his face
- Sander can’t stop looking at that picture
- He wants to reach out to him, fingers are itching to grab his phone
- But he won’t, can’t, fights with every fiber of his being to not call or text him
- Britt has called and texted him, he’s stopped answering. He thought he could go back to her, but every time he kissed her, he thought of Robbe. He thought everyone would be safer. It would hurt Robbe, and it killed him knowing that, but Robbe would be better off without him in the long run.
- He broke it off with Britt, told her in no uncertain terms it was finally over. He couldn’t return to Robbe, but he was also tired of everyone controlling him and telling him what he should do. And he didn’t love her, what he felt for Robbe wasn’t like anything he’d ever felt before, made a mockery of any other relationship he ever had, and a thought: probably any he would ever have.
- He doesn’t want to hurt anyone, but the thoughts just won’t fucking stop, and he knows he’ll end up hurting Robbe so much more if he doesn’t stay away.
- He turns toward the television, it’s the scene where DiCaprio kisses Claire Danes underwater. He’s played the film over and over again.
- He smiles a soft, sad smile and looks at the picture of Robbe again. There’s Robbe smiling (before it all went to shit). Robbe - not yet touched by the darkness that always seems to follow Sander.
- And he thinks, maybe in another universe…