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“So this is the end.”
Never has Gwen ever seemed colder. In theory? She was right. The three months Jonathan had asked of her were over—two months until the end of the semester. Plenty of time to “get over” this fake relationship and ask Fiona out. God, he was the one who made this plan, why was he struggling with the details? Wasn’t today supposed to be a good day? The end of the line? Yet, as the golden sunlight waned, the night wasn’t the only thing seething something bitter and dark.
“I guess so,” The sound burned like bile leaving Jonathan’s throat. “Thank you for all of… this.”
She only nodded because her she was looking him up and down, gaze stuck on how the light in his eyes fell. His sunny grin gave way for the night to fall. His warm was turning cold, and in some weird attempt to salvage it, Gwen held her arms out in offering. Without a second thought, Jonathan fell into her embrace, holding her like this was the last time. Maybe it was. She only loosely hugged him, that hug eventually fell into her patting his back for some time.
“It was nice,” Did he hear her voice quivering ever so slightly? “You and Fiona will be great.”
This was the plan! Why was his heart breaking as Fiona’s name registered in his mind? This is… exactly what he wanted three months ago. Everything had gone according to plan, and now he was supposed to be “heartbroken.” Why did it feel like his heart was shattering and cutting him from the inside out? Sentimentality, he told himself. He eventually untangled himself from her, tears beading at the edge of his eyes. With all his weighing on his chest, he could only muster a dying string of words.
“Thank you for everything, Gwen.”
And with that, Mr. and Mrs. Evans were now Mr. Sato and Ms. Evans once again.
. . .
The dorm was pitch black save for the moon when Alec got home from whatever outing he had with his friends that day. There was a chilliness in the dorm that belonged to the desolate winter, not the flowering warmth of late spring. Jonathan wasn’t in bed, instead perches by the windowsill. The moon hummed her silent tune as his tired eyes remained glued to the night’s dark cloak, stars twinkling in the blue of them. Heartbreak painted his expression in a way Alec only could describe as grieving.
“Hey,” Alec stepped into the dorm, voice and footsteps light as feathers. “Don’t you think it’s a little dark in here?”
His weak attempt at humour even get a hum from Jonathan. Alec kept treading closer, but it was easy to see the dark circles beginning to form above Jonathan’s cheeks. The only details Alec thought upon his roommate’s face were “bloodshot” and “bleak.” Underneath all the melancholy, Jonathan’s good looks remained—but this upset weighed upon his face, and aged him in a strange way his roommate found himself unfamiliar with. The dreary mood sent a shiver down Alec’s spine, but still he tried to get something out of Jonathan.
“What happened?”
His voice pounded at the thick silence between them, but there was a layer of glass shielding Jonathan’s heart. The latter covered his mouth with his palm, like laughter, or perhaps a sob was going to spill from his lips. He took a deep breath, and released a painful sigh before muttering something inaudible. Alex hummed in question, brow furrowing as every quiet second passed.
“Gwen broke up with me.”
Jonathan’s voice cracked with every word, and just like that, the glass shattered. There weren’t tears, just a numb silence filling the cracks in the room. The cold stilled the dorm, and the air was too heavy to breathe. A coffin of this plastic love might be the most fitting name, or perhaps a romance dead before it was even born. That last weight would be something Jonathan would have to carry alone.
Never in all of Jonathan’s 23 other failed relationships had this emptiness happened. There had been loud cries, there had been parties to take him to—of course he would mope, but this quiet was perhaps the biggest red flag of them all. The tears that eventually came were few, and rolled away to stain Jonathan’s shirt, but there was no outburst. There was nothing but the hole that threatened to swallow Jonathan whole, and the cloud of sombre draped over the room like humid silk.
“We never even kissed.”
Jonathan tickled the gap between him and Alec with that small sentence. The latter jumped to try and bridge the abyss.
“What?”
An innocent question.
“We only kissed once, we never… we never…why?”
The way he sounded was nothing short of pathetic.
“Why what?”
Alec pressed further.
“Why do I feel this way?”
There was no immediate reply to Jonathan’s question, only a pat on the back. This upset destroyed any (rightful) doubt Alec had about the validity of this fast love his roommate fell into. Looking back at what there was to remember, the most he could remember was that drunken kiss at the party last month. Sometimes if he looked hard enough, Jonathan’s wrist would graze Gwen’s, and only for a few moments, they would link fingers. Alec had always assumed them private—Jonathan being a shy lover didn’t fit him, but who was he to deny them after this?
“You love her,” The moments passed by too slowly before Alec’s response. “Of course you’re sad.”
Two months ago, Jonathan would’ve added “as a friend” to the end of that. Loving her the way he was supposed to love Fiona, that was something else. It tasted bittersweet on his tongue. He loved Gwen. Just playing that in his head made his breath catch on nothing. He nodded to Alec’s words, a small chuckle dying under his breath. His head sunk, gaze falling to his lap, and drifting to his empty hands.
“Yeah. I love her. I love her so much.”
The moon made his skin glisten, and like this, Jonathan seemed younger than ever. What was he even supposed to do now? What was he even to do with this mess he made? Love. In its ugly name, spewed at him futile odds, and reared its nasty head. It called his fate resigned, and laughed. Love was an ugly, losing game.