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The room was quiet, everyone had already fallen asleep. Everyone, but Wille. He was sitting under the open window; seemingly deep in thoughts. Simon contemplated for a long time before he decided to get up from where he was laying down. The last push was the sigh and hands wiping on eyes. Simon quietly found his way to the window, and he sat down beside the boy who stole his heart. The silence stretched out for a little while. But it was a good kind of silence; the one that makes you breathe a little easier.
"What are you thinking about?"
"You," Wille said, turning his head fully toward Simon. They were looking closely at each other now. "About the movie night."
It looked like he wanted to talk further, but he stopped himself.
"You can tell me. If you want," Simon whispered.
"Isn't it crossing a line? Talking about us?"
"I don't know. But I would like it if we could be completely honest with each other. No holding back feelings. Even if things are complicated right now and even if we won't make it work in the end."
Wille pondered on it for a bit, studying Simon's face before turning away to stare up at the ceiling. "I was so confused about what I was feeling at that time. I just knew that I wanted to spend time with you. Be close to you, get to know you and make you smile. And you are like really really pretty too," he finished. The last words came out as a barely audible whisper as his mind caught up on what he was saying.
"Am I?"
"Hmm. The prettiest," a low whisper again. "And your heart is so… It's so… So good, Simon. I'm sorry I hurt it badly." He shut his eyes for a moment, letting the quiet and the darkness to consume him. Simon's eyes were still on him though, never leaving.
"Wille? You mean a lot to me. You know that, right?"
He opened his eyes and turned his head, to be able to look at Simon again. "You mean a lot to me too."
"I wanted to get to know you badly too. But it was also very overwhelming and confusing. I didn't know what you wanted—because you didn't know either—, and if it all was even worth the try."
"I guess it wasn't?" Wille said sadly.
"Do you regret it?" The question came immediately.
"Don't you?"
"No, I don't. Do you?"
"No. I just thought you might. I hurt you, all I did was hurting you."
"You are an idiot. I would never regret loving you."
"You loved me?"
"I love you."
Wille closed his eyes again, his bottom lip quivering lightly. There was a long pause there. It made the soft puff of air—coming from their sleeping schoolmates—more amplified, and made them aware of their presence. Simon looked around, but didn't see much; it was way past midnight and the moon didn't provide enough light to light in the whole room. He could see Wille clearly though; his short hair got messy because he ran his hand through it the entire night, and he was even paler than Simon remembered. The dark circles under his eyes and the scar that was begging for Simon to touch, to run a gentle finger along it. Simon wanted to take away his pain, to soothe and comfort him, to hold him and let him be himself. But Simon himself was hurting too. He wanted to be comforted too, someone to knock down his walls and get him to fall apart in their arms. To feel safe enough to let someone do that.
"Can we… hold hands?" A hesitant question brought Simon out of his thoughts.
"Yeah."
A tentative hand reached out, slipping hand into hand, linking fingers and holding on tight. Wille's hands were warm and soft as always, only his bitten nails scraped Simon's skin uncomfortably from time to time, but it was okay.
"Simon. I… How are you?"
"Not good."
"Is there anything I can… help? To make you feel better?"
"Take care of yourself."
"You too," Wille lost the battle in his head and brought up Simon's hand to his lips and kissed the back of it softly, "please."
Simon similarly lost a battle, and went to briefly run his thumb on Wille's cheek, up to the scar under his eye.
"What are the conditions you were saying when we broke up?"
"Not conditions. I'm not giving you orders, Wille."
"No, of course. I should ask like… What do you want? How would you like things to go, if we were to try it again?"
"I don't want to constantly fear of people finding it out, and sneaking around. For you to leave again when you feel like you don't have any other way to deal with a situation. This constant push and pull game. To consider my feelings more? I know that I'm not very good at talking about what I feel, and I know it's a problem that needs fixing as well."
"If you could tell me right away if I hurt you in any way, or if I did something wrong, or if you don't feel okay about anything. We could maybe take a timeout and talk through it before the feelings grow ugly inside on their own? So I know what's wrong, and you know what's wrong, and we can solve it together?"
"I would like that."
"Me too."
(...)
"We should sleep."
"Yeah."
They settled down beside each other and Simon suddenly got hit by a wave of emotions, he felt horrible. Why does life have to be so complicated? Why can't they just go with their feelings and love each other freely, as long as that's what both of them want? Why do outsiders feel entitled to have opinions on their lives?
"Are you crying?" Wille asked suddenly with a tiny bit of alarm in his voice.
"No," Simon lied, "but please comfort me."
Wille slipped a hand through soft curls to hold Simon's head and pull him closer. Simon buried his face into Wille's chest, crying himself to sleep silently as Wille held him close.
Nobody said a thing in the morning when they woke up and saw the two of them sleeping like that; holding each other close.