Closing the bag almost hurt. The green eyes rolled over the room, partly checking if he had forgotten something, partly saying a silent farewell. When they stopped at the door, the other man was standing there, his shoulders and head low. His voice, when he spoke, was husky. Hurt.
“Why are you doing this?”
“It’s the best for us.”
“I never agreed with that!”
“You will soon.”
“Don’t you love me anymore?”
He took the bag. It wasn’t it’s weight that made him take a deep breath. It would be easier if the answer for this question were a “No, I don’t”. But things weren’t easy. He stepped closer from the black-haired man. He was trying to avoid the tears. And was failing.
The green-eyed man caressed the other. Placed a little kiss on his trembling lips. Maybe, in a few months things would be different. Maybe he would be healed and whole. And then, maybe, they could start over.
But for now, he was broken. And being around would make no good. He was sure he would break the other man too. Permanently and not just a little, like it was happening at the moment.
He could have said all those things. But he knew the other man would try to persuade him. And he knew he would be persuaded.
“Love is not enough.”
Was all he said.
Saying goodbye was a terrible pain.
But that was the kind of pain he needed; the kind that awakens a person.
Merci pour la lecture!
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