Work Text:
A draught of cool air teased the curtains of the small apartment decorated with scraps of metal, bits of wire, and masses of paper covered in passionate scrawlings of ideas. The fervent chirping of birds peppering the otherwise mostly silent hours of the early morning and the bitter smell of freshly brewed coffee had become the reminder of the closely approaching deadlines of their final projects and the school year. Sat by candlelight, Alva had once more taken to checking through the paper that they intended to submit. Unlike their quickly penned ideas that sat on papers populating any spot one would look in the apartment, this paper was written in a careful, precise hand. He remembered the evenings he would come home and transcribe their many drafts into what would become this final document. Certainly, he had been careful not to make any error, but to assume he couldn’t make a single mistake was foolish. Just as he remembered his dedicated hours, he remembered the many times Herman would burst through the door after his classes had finished with an inspired idea. He had learned after some time that putting the pen down upon Herman's arrival would serve him best, as his own interest would be piqued by Herman's rambling. Hours could pass of them speaking on some hypothetical topic that hardly had anything to do with the task at hand, and yet he appreciated the time.
In a nearby room, Alva heard the familiar sound of rustling sheets and a strained vocalization of a stretch, followed by a break of silence. He allowed the silence to hang in the air for a moment longer before sipping his coffee.
"Good morning," he called out, his voice gentle. A nicety that could have faded into the background. The sheets rustled again, less violently this time.
"Morning," Herman gave a grumbled reply. A few moments later, the other young man made his way into the room in a well-loved nightshirt. His eyes glanced over their paper from over Alva's shoulder. "Have you ever found anything to worry about yet?"
"Hm?" Alva paused to steal a glance at Herman. "Oh, no, nothing has flagged my attention yet--"
"We did fine," Herman cut him off. "I'm sure your work is as thorough as always. You don't need to get up this early every day."
"I don't mind," he replied as he mindfully moved his fingers between the pages he was working on as a sort of bookmark. "It's a small task that should be done at least once."
"Well, then let's look at it another way," Herman said while moving to sit at the wooden chair next to him. "I mind." Alva flashed him another glance, his confusion showing on his face.
"You keep waking me up," Herman said while throwing an arm over his roommate's shoulder in a playfully rough way, earning him a roll of Alva's eyes.
"I hate to bother your precious rest, Herman, but this is important for the both of us."
"It is, sure! I'm not saying that it isn't. What I'm saying is, I believe in our work, and I trust that your final draft is more than suitable. What I am also saying is that I'd like to spend my final days in school sleeping peacefully because they also have been very well-earned, my friend!" He gave him a light shake. "You've earned your rest as well; for my sake, cash in on it!"
By this point, Alva had cautiously taken his hands off of the papers, lest the thrashing cause them any sort of damage. A sigh escaped him. Once Herman was like this, there was little to no point in trying to dissuade him. He had learned that hoping that he would just forget about the whole thing was much easier in the long run, and even if he hadn't forgotten, he would just go on another sarcastic tirade. After having lived with each other for several years during their schooling, the two had learned to accept each other's quirks.
"You want breakfast," he said plainly. The birds continued to chirp loudly outside. Alva watched as the candlelight lit up Herman's face as he laughed.
"I want breakfast," he agreed.
"You forgot to get the groceries after your classes yesterday," Alva reminded.
"I know," Herman said while leaning back in his chair. Alva looked at him with a raised brow, unsure of how he meant to remedy that situation. "Did you really think I forgot?" A rhetorical question. It had to have been. All too frequently did Herman forget to get the groceries, only to run out of the apartment in a mad dash to secure some sort of food for the next day. There was a long silence in the apartment as the two men held each other’s eyes captive as Alva thought on how to answer. A mischievous twinkle sat in Herman’s deep brown eyes, a youthful spark that was almost always at home in his complexion. It hardly gave Alva any insight into his motives.
“Hm.” A simple answer. Noncommittal. The way that Alva preferred to navigate through the grey area.
“Hm,” Herman teased back, mocking the pouted lip of his roommate. “Of course I didn’t forget!” Alva watched as Herman pushed himself back precariously on his chair. He was always surprised at just how quickly his peer could find his energy upon waking.
“So you left us to starve on purpose, then? Is that supposed to be much better?” He responded, his tone flat. He had decided to concede to the antics; it was his turn to tease Herman.
“Well,” Herman paused for a moment. “I suppose that I did, but it was with purpose! I’ve been wanting to take you out for breakfast. We’ve both deserved something nice for some time now, and I figured we would never get the chance if there was food here. You’d tie yourself down to practicality again, insisting that we had food at home! And like an overattentive mother, you’ve hardly let our baby out of your sight!” He gave the stack of papers a light slap. Alva sighed.
“Herman–”
“I won’t hear it, Alva! I’m not going to let you sit here to starve! There’s a nice cafe in town; it should be open by the time we walk ourselves down to it,” he lightly pulled the chair Alva sat on out from the table. “Come now; time is precious. Come on, come!”
The scene stood still for a moment within Alva’s mind as he watched the two of them as a bystander would. There was an aching in his chest wrestling with the happiness that had made its home there. Herman’s playful antics that he had grown to love over their years together were just a few weeks from exiting his life for who knew how long. Graduation, the thing that had brought them closer together than anything else in the past year, was lurking, waiting to tear the two of them apart and plunge them both into solitude once more. Surely the plans that they had excitedly made to continue working together were meant in their hearts , but Alva had reminded himself that all too often life was much more complicated than the idealistic world of their lofty daydreams. Nevertheless , he couldn’t help but wish that it could turn out for the best. Sharing a lab, working ceaselessly towards their shared goals, and supporting each other in both their work and their home life—if life could go on like that, Alva figured that he would always be able to find happiness. He wondered if Herman felt the same.
He knew that Herman regarded him fondly and that they were closer friends than many of the other acquaintances that Herman had picked up during their time at school. Herman was taking him out for breakfast, having set up troubling machinations to be able to guarantee that he would have no other choice but to join him. Herman had also made somewhat of a habit of calling him his wife when Alva began to lecture him for coming home late with a fair share of liquor upon his tongue. There was no doubt in Alva’s mind that they were close friends—to have any doubts about that would be absurd. But was it only a condition of their circumstance? Herman, a highly passionate and adaptable individual... Would any of his college life still matter once he found himself successful in the world? Alva decided to push those disheartening thoughts aside as best he could in order to fully enjoy the breakfast they were going to share .
The cafe was humble. Cozy, homely, and nestled well within the winding streets of the town. Alva couldn’t help but wonder how Herman had first found himself here. The walls were a stippled honey-yellow plaster, and somehow this made the cafe feel even smaller than it was. It reminded him of a grandmother’s kitchen. Herman had sat them near an isolated corner that easily looked out over the rest of the cafe. He appreciated the privacy that it granted them. Their breakfast was served quickly, and the aromas of their plates joined the medley of appetizing smells that filled the air. Alva looked over to Herman’s plate, which was stacked with an egregious amount of food—a stark contrast to his simple plate of eggs and toast.
“I see why you decided to forget the groceries,” he stated while looking at Herman with a hint of a smile. Confused, Herman looked up from his banquet. “I don’t think I could imagine you cooking half of the things you have there, let alone doing it all in one morning.”
Herman’s face reddened. Putting a napkin up to his mouth, quickly he responded. “I just wanted us to have something nice; is that so wrong?”
A smile flashed upon Alva’s face, something he quickly hid behind a sip of his drink. Having composed himself, he looked back at his roommate, his eyes brimming with genuine warmth. “It is nice; thank you.”
—
Herman felt Alva’s gaze pierce through him, making him want to squirm in his seat. It was that look again. That kind, doe-eyed look that was so incredibly disarming. It was that look that he was weak to. How could any man have that amount of kindness within them? It never failed to distract him. He held Alva’s gaze for a moment before he had to pry himself away, back to the comforts of his food.
“I–” He hadn’t realized that he had prepared nothing to say until he opened his mouth to respond. Why did he have to make the conversation so personal? Herman’s face felt hot. “It’s nothing; don’t worry about it.” He felt Alva’s eyes still gazing at him as if they were deconstructing him like one of their many machines. Quietly. Peacefully. Gently. Deep down, Herman knew that ultimately he was being looked at with some sort of love. It was that fact that made his chest tight. He had to distract himself. Quickly he blurted , “Just toast?”
“And eggs,” Alva responded. Just a statement of fact, but carried with such delicacy that Herman couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed. He didn’t know what to say. If he talked about breakfast, he’d feel like an idiot, and if he talked about their project, it would have defeated the whole point of him bringing them both out. He wanted to spend genuine time with Alva. Time that was uninterrupted by their work. He could seldom recall a moment between them where work wasn’t their focus. Years of living together, and he could hardly say that he knew the man that he was living with. He had to redirect the conversation if he were to be able to connect with someone that he had been wanting to.
“What are your plans after graduation?” It felt like the natural question to ask. Surely they had exchanged words about their lofty goals, but not those minute details such as “Where are you going?”
Alva’s eyebrows raised as he slowly placed his cup onto its place on the ceramic saucer. The hand-painted powder-blue flower design of the set struck Herman as very natural within his counterpart’s hands. Alva’s words caught his attention. “I have a job already lined up with me through the university. I’ll return home for a few months to settle loose ends, but I will be returning shortly thereafter . You?”
Work again. Herman wondered why Alva didn’t wish to be known. He had hoped that he would share vacation plans or something that he had been looking forward to when returning home. But yet again he was met with a simple, pragmatic answer. Despite his frustration, Herman refused to let Alva believe that he wasn’t happy for him. After all, having one’s studies funded through the university was an honour that should be celebrated. If anyone was to receive such an honour, Alva was one of those people. He smiled.
“Is that so?” The words poured out of him boisterously as he raised his cup. “Cheers to that then! Why hadn’t you told me sooner? We could have gone out to celebrate!”
“We were very busy when I received the news; I didn’t wish to distract from what we were doing, and after a point, it didn’t seem relevant to mention anymore,” he replied plainly as if the matter held no weight.
"Still, I wish you would have. We are roommates !” he said as he leaned over the table towards Alva. “I would have liked to celebrate with you. It’s something worth taking a break for!”
A small smile appeared upon Alva’s face. That small smile that would often show when Alva couldn’t help but disagree. It was gentle. It filled his eyes. It was full of such deep emotion and distance that Herman could never quite decide whether it was a look of pity or a look of compassion. On occasion, he wondered if that to Alva it was the same thing.
“Thank you, but it was best that we finished what we were working on.” Herman quickly began preparing what he was going to say next, the words burning on his tongue. “What about you? What are your plans?”
Herman’s stomach sank. He should have known better. Much as it was only natural for him to ask Alva about his plans, it was only natural for him to return the favour. He had hoped not to breach the topic. In truth, he had plenty he hadn’t wanted to tell Alva, but the secret that ate at him the most was the font from which many of the others began to flow. He was engaged to be married. This too was only natural, Herman believed. As a member of the upper class, he was expected to perform this formality; unless he was willing to sacrifice his image, it was something he would have to address in time. He counted himself lucky to have met a woman with an interesting personality at a gala he had attended over their winter break. Not one to take a good opportunity for granted when presented one, he had begun to court her. Not long after, the plan to be married had come to pass. By the time Alva was working through the university, Herman was to be wed.
“Oh, I’m not sure yet. I’ll probably look over my old manuscripts again. I’ve not given them as much attention this semester as I would have liked.” The lies burned in his throat like acid. The smile on his face stayed the same. Alva’s genuine smile made his stomach churn. He wished that he didn’t have to lie to him.
“I’ll have to see if I would be allowed to let you borrow some of the facilities, or at least put in a word about your studies. I would be happy for us to work together again.”
“I would like that.” He wished that this was a lie too. It felt like it might have been easier that way. A silence hung in the air as the two looked at each other.
—
Herman’s trip home was agonizing . Graduation had come and gone in a flash, as he had expected it to . There was plenty of work for him waiting back home, and his final days in school were spent juggling academia and organizing his future affairs. He was meticulous in not allowing the two worlds to bleed into one another, knowing that if Alva had found out his plans, it would leave them both gutted. He had been able to hide the truth. The two men had parted ways with diplomas in hand and smiles on their faces. The novelty of that glorious piece of paper that Herman had, for years, worked tirelessly to have quickly wore off as the steady bump of the train upon the tracks took him further away from his old roommate.
He stared out the window, watching as the landscape quickly passed him by, bringing him painstakingly closer to home. He had thought that once he had finally left campus the guilt that had been eating away at him for months would finally start to fade, along with the memory of Alva. However, he found it to be quite the opposite. More vivid than ever, he could remember the nights he had stayed up working where Alva would come in and chide him, encouraging him to get to bed, lest his exhaustion affect his finals. He remembered the sinking feeling in his stomach as Alva would speak of their future projects together, not knowing that they were plans made on faulty ground. How could it be that a smile was so torturous? His stomach turned, and he leaned against the window for comfort. Even when the man wasn’t nearby, he haunted him.
Upon arriving home, Herman was greeted with celebration. The prodigal son had returned, diploma in hand, and a bright future ahead of him! The joy that filled the air at the Zeeman household hardly uplifted the somber youth, but he tried to focus on the festivities, hoping that the mirth would drown out the troubling feelings that had plagued him.
He was busy. Quickly days passed as vows were practiced and paperwork finalizing the distributions of the future household’s wealth was drafted. Those days turned into weeks, and those weeks led the young man to the stairs of a gorgeous yet humble chapel. His mind had never cleared, and even on the staircase, moments before becoming a married man, he couldn’t focus on anything but the man that he had abandoned. His mouth was dry, and his head spun. His groomsmen, men whom he had grown up alongside but had no particularly strong feelings toward, had been trying to ease his nerves the entire morning. It didn’t matter, though. He wasn’t nervous about the wedding. His wife-to-be was a beautiful woman with a knack for conversation and a promising financial background. She was everything he could have hoped for in a marriage, and he wasn’t one to look past his luck. He was grateful. What gnawed away at him was the fact that the man he had come to consider his best friend, even if he didn’t know him as well as he had hoped to, wasn’t here with him.
Could he have been? Herman knew deep down that he believed himself to be shielding Alva from a painful reality. He knew deep down that Alva cared about him in a way that he couldn’t understand. Even if Alva never opened up about himself, Herman could never argue that his quiet roommate wasn’t interested in getting to know him. He had never really realized that he had confided in Alva more than he had anyone else. It was so easy talking to him. It was only in his absence that Herman truly began to realize that he had taken his partnership for granted, and now he was gone. He remembered how he scolded the man for not telling him about his achievements in his career. Now here he was getting married, his best friend, a man he cared for, none the wiser. He felt ill.
Herman knew that marriage would teach him something about love. He had hoped that it would catch him and envelope him fully like a fairytale and whisk away all that troubled him. After all, that’s what the ideal marriage was. A successful marriage would only push his life further along, guaranteeing a future that was even more prosperous. But what he learned instead was that he was never taught that love, true love, was not based on simple transactions and mutual benefit. He loved his wife in this way and believed in his heart that this love was worth some value, even if it did not capture him fully. Even more regrettably, he learned that love had been left behind on that campus.
He had come to believe that Alva had truly loved him. He had his reasons for that hypothesis, but none of them truly mattered. He feared that he had come to love Alva in their time together too. How was it fair that something so unthinkable—so unachievable—could burden him? Tried as he might, he never could truly cast the thoughts aside. The closest he would come were those moments where he could truly bury himself in his work, but just as work would bring him solace, it would just as quickly plunge him back into those turbulent memories of that man he worked alongside for years. Many times he had been urged to cease working while he was upset by his wife, as she stated that he had a hard time focusing as he once could. She would invite him to spend time with her and their newborn son. His emotional world was crumbling; how could he allow for his work to weaken as well? There was simply no room for leeway; he couldn’t stop working to entertain a simple distraction. He hoped that perhaps if he solved those questions that he had been chasing for years, he could finally move on from everything. He had to move on. The newfound loneliness without that man was killing him.
—
It had been years since Alva had heard from Herman. It finally started to hurt less. Even back then, when it had only been months, he knew it was silly of him to have expected things to have gone any differently. After all, Herman was a remarkable person. He was charming. A man who was able to light up a room wherever he went; he was never in short supply of friends. Many times Herman had confided in him that he didn’t care all that much about these people that he so often would brush elbows with, grabbing drinks after class and playing billiards. Associates. Acquaintances. Classmates. The word ‘friend’ was shorthand for it all. He figured ‘roommate’ was just the same. He had served his purpose, and college was behind them.
He knew everything would have been easier if his time with Herman was something he regretted, but he loved him still. There was still a sliver of hope that one day a letter from his best friend would find itself nestled in his mailbox, written as if nothing had happened between them. He knew that he would welcome him back into his life without hesitation, as senseless as it would seem. But Herman was not just another man; he was a man that Alva loved. To be senselessly devoted, willing to overlook past harm and move on with forgiveness, was to love. Love was never easy. But even when it left its scars, it was because of love that it was worth moving on.
“Return to sender,” read the words written over the letter that had been addressed to Herman. The paper felt heavy in Alva’s hands. He chose to believe that Herman had finally moved away from his family home or that perhaps his hand had slipped and caused the address to be illegible. What to do with the orphaned letter was the trouble now. It made no difference, truly, if he were to throw it away, but it didn’t feel right to do so. The thought of the envelope sitting atop the trash, waiting to disappear with meaningless junk, hurt. He held the envelope in his hands for a moment longer. It would do no good sitting alone in one of his desk drawers, but at least it would have a home there. Carefully, he tucked it away amongst other loose papers.
A quiet sigh escaped him. Perhaps it was time to revisit that cafe.