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Helplessly awake at late night, Maximus looked through the window, seeking escape from the never-ending cacophony playing in his head, tormenting him and prying sleep away. The moon shone high amidst a starry composition. He tried to find comfort in the same astros that brought Pierre peace. But they weren’t meant for him, were they?
How could he dare seek ease where the man who loved him so dearly, the man who he hurt daily, did? Hadn’t he ruined enough for Pierre? Averting his gaze from the celestial arrangement which did not care or change before Maximus’ scorching pain, he fought back tears, choking the strangled sound trying to make its way up his throat. The vastity and indifference of the universe enhanced his inner turmoil.
Deep asleep by his side, Pierre snored lightly, something so subtle Maximus more felt than heard. The arms wrapping him felt claustrophobic rather than soothing. He should not have complied to his boyfriends worried pleas, urging Max to stay with him for yet another night, refusing to let him grieve alone, alleging that he couldn’t be by himself in such a critical moment.
Besides, Pierre might not understand how heavily this loss affects him, but he has the same right to grieve as Maximus does. The twins were their children, after all. Were. What a funny word. So short, yet, it was a statement on itself. An indicator, the cycle repeated once more.
It took him so much effort to come to terms with the pregnancy, to let hope silence terror and allow himself to believe Pierre’s words that things would be alright, that he would take care of Maximus and their children, that they would become a family. How could have he been so gullible? Had he not learned his lesson yet? There was no happy ending awaiting him once the curtain falls and the narrative is over.
Another wave of nausea washes over his body as Maximus does his best to stay still and utterly quiet. If he had enough strength to head back to his place, he would. But his flesh is no longer his own, becoming foreign by the minute. It betrays him, arouses paranoia and, alongside the disturbing imagery he is met with every time he drifts off to sleep, forces him to wonder what outcome expects him around the corner.
Expects. English is such a limited language, so many meanings packed in the same combination of letters. You can be expected to do something, you can expect results and you can expect a baby. If you are lucky, you may even be able to hold them in your arms without anxiety reminding you that each second could be the last in their presence.
He wishes he could use his mother tongue when Pierre tries to talk to him about… it. He wishes he did not have to translate his sentences after they escape him in Spanish before he can stop himself, lost in his suffering. Pierre was not to blame for the confusion displayed on his concerned face when Maximus could not utter a single word in English, being taken by his despair.
Sighing, Maximus feels his heavy eyelids threaten to close. He is in desperate need for some decent sleep, but is it any use succumbing to exhausted slumber when it will be restless and as much of a living nightmare as his awake hours? In a similar fashion to all his existence in this island, he doesn’t have a choice here. His mind can race and shout all it wants; each and every organ still requires to be functional – and, for that to happen, Maximus needs to gather himself and go the fuck to sleep.
Eyebrows furrowing, Pierre shifts slightly, as if affected by a bad dream. Maximus wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case, his partner had been suffering from nightmares lately. Both of them had their own demons to fight, although Pierre insisted some of them were the same and could be fought in unison. Maximus had almost scoffed when he heard it, what did the other know about his anguish? Still, it wouldn’t have been fair to say it: Pierre was hurting too.
As his eyes close, Maximus brings one of his hands to his boyfriend’s hair, running his fingers through it gently. Pierre deserves comfort and love, but neither can be provided by him. Maximus should never have agreed to this relationship, not when he was well aware that he wouldn’t allow himself to feel anything. Eventually, he would have to work up the courage to break Pierre’s heart, but for now, he could let himself doze off in the loving embrace that should never have been meant for him.