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a-sense-of-falling · 7 years ago

Text

Beneath a Moonless Sky

"But you were hurting more because you don't know the truth."

"What truth?"

"The truth of why I died."

Jay thought he had put Robin's death behind him - after all, after their seemingly good times together, Robin had decided to end it. But, when packing his things, with the second year of university coming to a close, he stumbled upon some of Robin's old things. The memories came back: and seemingly something else did too. Could Robin really be back, to right the wrongs and reveal what really happened? Or was Jay finally losing it? Through times both past and present, follow him through the turmoil of finally reaching a resolution to close the book on his and Robin's friendship.

Genre: angst, romance

Warnings: death, suicide, self-harm, blood, blades, depression, strong language

Word Count: 11.6k

He was panting, and tears warped with the rain that crashed onto his face, no longer knowing if he was crying anymore or if he'd run dry. The storm was still roaring through dawn as it had done all night, but with the clouds as thick and dark as they were above, night or day, the sun wasn't getting through. Jay felt hopeless, disorientated, out all night and neither knowing if dawn was yet here. He'd looked everywhere: the café, the practice room, his room - but surely Robin wouldn't have gone to the lake, not on a night as violent as that, and not come back or answer his phone. With every lonely climbing second he was fearing the worst: the sleeves had been back to being pulled over the palms, even though it was spring, even though he'd given that up in autumn. Why couldn't he just talk? Why did he run? What even went wrong?

Jay reached the clearing of the lake that he recognised so well, saw it empty, heaved, and kept moving. He sprinted down its side, gasping and whimpering, because with every new step he was more convinced of the worst. But he couldn't - Robin couldn't - !

The bridge. He ran onto it, looked down: ... his heart sank, legs trembled, and he collapsed onto the wet wooden ground. Fresh tears fell. The wrist… the forearm… but the blood had already been washed away.

The wall lost its chaotic look as Jay stripped his notes and posters down. Exams were done for a second year, now just the performance remained; and with that stress finally gone, he decided to take a long and well-awaited look at tidying up the place, so bags and boxes came out to store his old notes away and gradually the room (and desk, especially) cleared up, and regained the initial calmness they'd had when he'd first moved in. But his show posters remained up, to make sure the room didn't lose the personality he had given it. Even so, it still had a sense of emptiness to it, that 'glass half empty' sense of something missing: something that this room once held. Like the wall felt being stripped of its coverings, or a room feels when you take its personality away, that 'glass half empty' feeling only appears once it once held something. Jay missed the 'glass half full' feeling when he'd first moved in, but once you've held something more you can never escape that absence.

Jay paused. At the bottom of the box he was currently working there lay a black lump of fabric that he didn't recognise: how could something - presumably clothing - get stuck down here? He dug down, shoving paper and random items aside, and pulled it up: a hoodie, black wool, white zip, stretched so now at least a size too big. Oh no. Jay's throat went dry. It couldn't be. He checked the left breast in hopes of being wrong, but there it was - a small embroidered crescent moon. His heart trembled and sank.

He'd forgotten. No - he'd repressed.

Had it really been a year?

Hands heavy, he fumbled with it, folded it up, and returned it to the bottom of the box. He may not go back to his blissful ignorance any time soon but there was no point dwelling on the past.

"That's it? You're just gonna lock it away and forget me again?"

Jay froze. In disbelief, he looked up - and there he stood.

A jarring scream left him and he jumped back, hitting a box, losing balance, and fell inside. Adrenaline pumping, he flung himself around and climbed back out - and the figure was gone.

His heart was thudding so hard it hurt. He grabbed his head and shook it.

"No no no, this isn't fair. I'd forgotten, I'd gotten over it - why do I have to care again now?"

Irritation ran like spikes through his body. He couldn't go mad now.

"Why should I continue to suffer when you're the one that ended it?"

Silence was all that answered back - like a coward, or like sanity. Jay took a deep breath in, a deep breath out, and closed up the box - no, wait. Not yet.

The wind blew through the leaves and, with the sunlight shining down upon them, made them twinkle. It was quiet, but not silent, so Jay thought that absence wouldn't join him here: but of course it did, in this spot. The water, too, sparkled, like a starry night sky.

He breathed deeply, holding the hoodie to his chest.

"So," the voice returned, from somewhere unseen, "what are you doing?"

"I'm not talking to you," Jay - knowing no one else was around - muttered back.

"Too late, you just did." Jay winced at the signature teasing tone that came with. "Now tell me: what are you doing, here, with my hoodie?"

"It's not yours." He gripped it tighter. "It was mine."

"'Was'? Why was? Why didn't you keep wearing it?"

Stubborn silence. Then Jay sighed. "Because: for a while, it was yours."

"Ha! Thank you."

He gritted his teeth. "And you got blood on it."

Silence. "But you washed it?"

"You died in it. Nothing can wash that away."

To that, the voice said nothing. It was one of those points that, whilst Robin loved to tease, he knew to shut up for: the line was always blurry but he was always quick to step back. That's one of the things that made their friendship so comfy.

Jay gripped the hoodie tighter.

"You know what I'm doing."

"Umm, no I don't: I'm seeing you stand by a lake holding my - our - hoodie; unless you're about to throw it in, your plan isn't as clear as you think."

"That's not what I - " He cut himself off and let out a sigh. "I can't keep remembering you: it's too painful. I can't risk remembering again."

The voice was quiet for a moment, deliberating. "You're getting rid of it?"

Jay hummed in confirmation.

"… You want to forget me?"

"Of course I do," he scoffed. "You know how much you hurt me."

"But I - "

"No - I don't care if you hurt more, we'd been over this: you were supposed to come talk to me. I could have saved you."

"But no, I - we - "

"If you'd have just told me, I would have fixed it. I would have apologised."

"Huh? For - "

"For causing your death!"

A thick, tense silence swelled between them. Jay couldn't even be sure they were still there, but he could sense it.

"Jay, you…" The voice was soft, careful. "You were never to blame."

Jay scoffed. "Of course I'd want you to say that."

"What do you mean?" Then he lightly gasped. "Oh. You don't think I'm real."

For that, he burst out laughing. "Of course you're not! Ghosts aren't real, Robin, we've been over this. And once I get rid of this - " he bounces the hoodie " - and forget about you, then you'll just disappear."

Robin was quiet. Then he sighed. "You're not wrong there. But if I'm not real, then why I am here?"

"… Because I miss you."

The air's suffocating grip felt like it loosened.

"Then why aren't you happy to see me?"

"Because… because of how things were when you…"

Robin, again, fell quiet. Only for a moment. "If you're getting rid of the hoodie, then why are you here?"

At that, Jay was silent.

"You know what this place is, don't you?"

Silent. But yes, Jay was very aware.

October, freshers' week over, students settling into their studies. The time sets in when drop outs start. Autumn was just starting to show in the leaves and the chill of the air, but Jay needed that cold against his skin right now. Like everyone here, he was hesitating about staying, and sitting alone in his deafening, suffocating cell wasn't helping. He went walking down by the lake, on the very edge of campus, right when the afternoon was turning to evening and the cold got crisp. Headphones on, flooding his mind with power-ballad lyrics to muffle the doubts, and hands in his trouser pockets, he walked further than he even knew this went.

Then, on the other side of the river, appeared the hunched figure of another student. Jay paused, stared, and pulled down his headphones, and a faint sobbing became apparent. He stepped closer, inspecting, and saw them cradling one wrist in the hand of the other, close to their chest. It looked hurt.

"Hey!" he called, and the figure snapped their head up - their eyes were wide, like a deer caught in the headlights of an incoming car. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

The grip on their wrist got visibly tighter. "Go away." Jay hesitated, and refused. "I said go away!"

"I heard you. But I'm not blind: I'm not going anywhere."

The stranger, too, hesitated. In silence they stared for a while, face blank but eyes obviously distressed. Then they let out a weak scoff.

"Fine - it's not like you can do anything, anyway."

Jay frowned. The hands moved, and moonlight twinkled off something between the fingers - he gasped, and covered his mouth as red began to run down.

"S-stop! You'll hurt yourself!"

They scoffed. "That's the point, dumbass."

Jay's legs felt weak, he couldn't move. This was more than the typical 'I want to drop out and go home' dilemma.

"Nice metaphor though." The stranger stared at their wrist. "We're brought into this world, against our will, struggling, and then - " the red dripped into the moonlit water and dissipated " - then we're gone. And we never matter."

Jay's mouth opened, desperate to talk back, but his throat was dry. "You're mad."

"Why thank you, I try."

"B-but life isn't as simple as that. It's not just birth and death - there's so much in between."

"But none of it matters."

"Of course it does! So what if death is an definite end? The world still exists. Life stills matters - don't just throw that away."

The stranger looked up, stared, and blinked. "You've thought about this too, huh?"

He shrugged. "It's kinda my specialty."

For a brief second, like an eclipse, Jay swore he saw hints of amusement on that face.

"You have a nice way of thinking - I'm jealous. But still - " they turned his arm around " - why cling to life when it pains me? Why let that matter?"

Jay's heart started and sunk with dread. "No, wait - "

"You know," they interrupted, looking him dead in the eyes with an unwavering stare. "I don't come here every day to do this. I wanted to be somewhere beautiful in the end; somewhere where the dark and the silence don't scare me. And look: the universe even gave me you."

Jay felt the blood rush to his head, or his cheeks, wait no -

"I mean, you're probably not even real. Maybe I just made you up." They weakly laughed. "Why else would you have stayed?"

They brought the shimmering metal to their arm once again, angle twisted.

In that moment, in horror, Jay's petrification swapped for more energy than he could control: and he ran. Like that moment as you fall before you hit the ground, he blacked out: and suddenly he was soaking wet, leaping over the stranger.

"Hey -!"

He crashed on top of them, pinning them down, and flung out his hand to desperately knock the blade away.

"Y-you prick! Let go!" They struggled but Jay pressed down with everything he had, muttering pleads for them to stop - he was way too small, if they wanted they could shove him off eventually. The struggling turned into a tantrum, and finally melted into tears. "Just let me do it."

"No. I can't."

"Well why not?!" they snapped. "You don't even know me!"

Jay struggled for breath. "I don't have to know you to care."

With that, after a second of pause, they stopped moving.

He sighed in relief, worn out. "Thank you."

"Shut up."

He looked up: the wrist was still bleeding. He paused for thought, then unzipped his hoodie and took it off, laid the forearm inside, and wrapped the sleeves round their head. Once done, Jay shyly scrambled off of them and pretended not to hear their stubborn sobbing.

"… Sorry about the wet."

At that, the stranger looked up, frowned, and let out a sudden laugh. "You're ridiculous."

Embarrassed, but suddenly buzzing, Jay couldn't help but grin.

"You know, the water might get the cuts infected." Jay's eyes widened. "It's alright. You meant well." They took it off, wrapped something dry around the wrist, and tied it back up. Then, they sat and stared at him. "You can go now, you know."

Jay shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere without my hoodie."

"Oh yeah." They smirked, then dropped it and shrugged. "I can wash it and give it back to you sometime? No offence, but I don’t really want to be chaperoned all night."

"Tough. I won't leave until I know you're okay."

They scoffed. "That would take forever."

"I'm willing to wait."

They shook their head, shrugged, and seemingly gave in. "What's your name, stranger?"

Jay smiled. "I'm Jay."

And they smiled back. "Robin."

"You saved my life. I never did thank you for that."

"Shut up." Jay walked closer to the edge, looking over the river - no, looking down. "I didn't come here to reminisce." He held the hoodie out, over the water. "I'll do it. So shut up and leave me alone already."

"No," Robin said. "Not until I know you're okay."

"I was okay! And then you showed up again and…" His voice trembled and his throat was drying up. "And you came to torture me."

"I'm not here for that. I never wanted to hurt you."

"Then you shouldn't have fucking killed yourself!"

Silence. Jay was breathless.

"Jay," came that gentle voice again. "Don't pretend: you were never okay. You missed me."

He snivelled. "Of fucking course I did. But you didn't even care about me in the end."

"I did - of course I did. You don't know the whole story."

Jay swore he could see a hand laying itself on the hoodie.

"Let me stay and fix it."

His breath wavered. "But you're not real, there's no way you're real."

"I could believe in ghosts - why can't you?"

"Because I'm not you! Actually, I'm not sure I even really knew you! And I don't want to indulge in this to lie to myself and make me think that your death wasn't my fault."

"But Jay, it wasn't."

He barked out a laugh. "Of course you'd say that! Am I supposed to believe that you avoiding me all week was just a coincidence? That you running off after my performance looking upset as hell wasn't my fault? That it maybe wasn't even a suicide?!"

"Jay!"

A rush of wind flew past, roaring in his ears, and Jay took a deep breath and brought the hoodie to his chest again.

"I've known you for longer dead than I did alive. So why does this still hurt so much?"

To that - with the hand gone - nothing was said.

"It's getting dark, and no offence but I'm not spending the night with you." Robin stood himself up. "I'll give you my number or email or something, but I'm going now."

Jay reached into his bag, forgetting that it's soaking wet, and pulled out his phone. "Ah shit," he grumbled. "It's dead."

Robin let out a laugh and quickly shut his mouth.

"Can we agree to meet maybe? I'm not asking that we act like friends, I just want to make sure you don't do anything stupid once I'm gone."

He opened his mouth to contradict but rationally shut it again. "Alright. Coffee, Student Union, lunchtime?"

Jay nodded. "… And you'll have to walk me back you know? I've never been on this side of the river before."

Robin smiled, mumbled something like 'idiot', and led the way.

Once home, Jay threw his bag and the hoodie to the side and opened up his phone: he had an email from his adviser.

"Good afternoon!

Just checking in because it seems you were absent from your workshop today. Your tutor was especially worried because it was the last one before the final performance. So I'm just emailing to ask if everything is okay.

Best wishes!"

She was too sweet. He knows this kind of email doesn't go to everyone: it's because the same thing happened last year. He had to register for extenuating circumstances and had his assessments postponed.

He started a reply:

"Afternoon,

Everything is okay, nothing to be worried about, but thank you. I've finished my prep for the performance and we didn’t have to show up if that was the case.

Regards,

Jay."

Sent. He scrolled through Tumblr, humming to himself:

"Are the stars out tonight? I can't tell if it's cloudy or bright 'cause I only have eyes for you, dear.

"The moon may be high but I can't see a thing in the sky 'cause I only have eyes for you.

"How could I live a day without you? I need your love to see me through.

"You're not here by my side. Maybe millions of people pass by but they all disappear from view 'cause I only have eyes for you."

"I always did like your singing."

Jay flinched and didn't look up. "Why are you back?"

There was a moment of silence where Robin didn't answer. "I see you've kept the hoodie."

"I'm not gonna dump it in the river, that's practically criminal."

He hummed and mumbled "Right."

Jay huffed and looked up. "Look, why don't you just - " And he stopped.

Robin stood there cocking his head. "What? Why don't I…?" Jay didn't finish. "Why are you staring at me?"

He subtly swallowed. "Because… I haven't seen you in forever."

In the silence of Jay's stare, for once not breaking, Robin's face broke out into a smile. "I missed you too."

"Shut up." He felt tears coming. There he stood: dead for over a year, not looking a day older; short dyed grey hair, deep but soft grey eyes, black clothes; the skin even had colour and seemed to glow - he looked so alive. And on the hoodie he wore, etched on the left breast, was that same crescent. "What's wrong with me? You look so real."

He laughed. "Thank you, I do try."

"Stop it. Stop… being you."

"Why? You liked me being me."

"Yeah, but only when… when it's really you."

Slowly, without a word, Robin knelt down in from of him and stared back. "It is really me. I need you to believe me." His eyes held so much desperation. "Please, Jay."

He breathed in sharply. "I want to hug you."

Robin let out a breathy laugh. "I know. Me too."

Jay wiped his eyes and sighed. "This is insane. I'm officially insane."

"Well yeah, but not because of this."

"Oh shut up." Robin giggled. "I quite enjoyed not having you tease me anymore."

"Did you though? I thought you found it endearing."

"Oh, always."

They smiled together. Jay really had missed this.

"How could you even be here?"

He shrugged. "I just held on, I guess."

"But how? How are you here now?"

"I've always been here, ever since the moment you found me." Jay's eyes widened. "But you could never see me. When you saw me earlier, I was just as surprised as you." He said that with a chuckle. "But… but whilst you'd forgotten me… I'm so sorry for doing this to you, but when you forget, I disappear: I didn't want that to happen again." He hung his head. "I know that was selfish. I know you were hurting. But you were hurting more because you don't know the truth."

Jay frowned. "What truth?"

"The truth of why I died."

"What? Then tell me!"

And then, to Jay's confusion, Robin hesitated.

"… What is it?"

His eyes averted, glazed over with sadness. "It's just… I don't think I can. Honestly, I struggle to even face you."

His heart felt black and sank.

"What… what did I do?"

At that, like a knife, Robin scoffed. "Oh, so you don't even know? That's perfect! So you went around hating my guts and conveniently forgot what you did to me?"

Jay trembled. He didn't like this. "W-what did I do?!"

Robin shoved himself onto his feet and stared him down. "Remember."

And then he was gone.

Twelve o'clock, Jay sat - legs bouncing - in the SU café, watching the door and not touching his drink: black coffee. He'd never had it before but he'd never needed it 'til now. He hadn't slept one bit all night - how could he? He couldn't help but worry that that stranger - Robin - could've been dead at any second, and he wouldn't have done enough to help.

He stared through the windows by the door: nice and bright, blue sky, faint moon still hanging in. Bad weather wouldn't be an excuse to not show up.

And then, followed by a sweet sigh of relief, he walked in.

“Oh my god," Jay gasped. "You're okay."

"Well that's pushing it." He sat himself down. "But I'm better than I would've been if you hadn't shown up. Can't get better than dead."

Jay's breath left him when he heard that. "How can you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make jokes like that after what you've been through."

Robin deliberated, then shrugged his shoulders. "It's a coping mechanism, I guess. I don't just wallow and cry."

Jay felt like he should say something, but knew nothing, so kept quiet. "I'm just glad you're here."

"Aww, you liked me that much?"

"Shut it." He hoped to god he wouldn't blush. "I'm glad you're alive."

Robin sat back in the chair, getting comfy. "That's fair."

Silence ensued. It's not like they had much to talk about. Jay wondered if they were like comets, briefly passing in the night, and not like the moon which came and stayed, and hopefully not like shooting stars.

"Oh!" He started. "My hoodie!"

Robin's eyes widened, and, possibly, he went shy. "Yeah… about that…"

Jay's eyes glanced down: on Robin's chest there etched was that woollen crescent moon. "Oh my god, you're wearing it?"

Was Robin going red? "Sorry! I forgot to take it off before I came here."

"You were wearing it before?"

His hands joined in a prayer-like position over his face, as if to shut himself up. "… Yeah… But I washed it, as promised! I just… I needed to remind myself that I had to meet you, so that, you know, I wouldn't do anything stupid."

Suddenly, Jay's heart seemed to flutter.

"I should probably wash it again then, since I've worn it a lot."

"It's okay, I can wash it." And then an idea came to him. "Or you can keep it, if it means that much to you."

Robin laughed, as if to free himself from such a fluffy concept. "Keep it? It's too small for me anyway."

"You're already wearing it though, so I don't think it's that much of a problem." He shut his mouth, suddenly looking sheepish. "And you're already stretching it - I can't wear it now anyway."

Silence stretched between them for a moment, Robin considering the offer: finally, he sank down in his chair and grumbled: "Well if you can't keep it then I'll take it off your hands I guess." And Jay grinned.

The wind was racing and whining like a tantruming child and it made Jay's blood boil. But he deserved the discomfort: that's why he wasn't shutting it out, why he was outside. It felt like Robin was still screaming at him, and that had never happened before, so it kept playing, over and over, on a loop, making his stomach twist.

He couldn't stop stressing. What had he done? Why couldn't he remember? How could he ever have hurt Robin like that?

Thinking back was pain. Everything was blurred and forgotten in mourning's attempt at coming to terms. The details of so much of their time together had slipped from his mind, 'til all that remained was a vague outline: their times together by the lake, in the practice room, the brief ones in their rooms, and that turning point - the end of year performance.

Jay sat, slumped, desperate to remember however much it pained him, and quietly started to hum:

"Have we ever truly lived beneath a moonless sky? Have you ever thought to think about the moon up high?"

He smiled - then remembered, and fell silent.

"No" - Robin's voice broke through. Jay looked up and saw him standing before him, water up to his waist. "Don't stop. Please."

For a while, he was still silent. "Why would you say that?"

A small smile formed on his lips. "Because it's my song."

"Exactly - when I performed it, it broke you. Isn't that tied to why you hate me?"

"I don't hate you." His mouth opened and he stumbled over his words for a moment, then sighed, and sat himself down at Jay's side. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you yesterday. Talking about why I died made me remember something that I'd forgotten had changed, and I lost my mind. Truth is: I'm not mad at you anymore."

"'Anymore'?"

Robin hesitated. Glancing over, Jay noticed him shyly running his toes through the water, and the water didn't move for him. "I misinterpreted something - that song." Jay's heart thudded with dread. "I thought you'd done it to hurt me."

Whatever the intentions were, his heart just got heavier the more he heard.

"Wait - " He jumped - Robin was staring at him, beginning to smile. "You're wearing it."

Jay's heart leapt. He wasn't expecting to be seen like this. He looked down at it, at the stitching of the crescent moon, and sank a little, shyly. "Yeah… I barely even realised."

Daring a glance up, he caught the beaming smile that he'd brought to Robin's face, and suddenly knew he'd missed it so much.

"It's so big for you now." He gestured to the sleeves: bunched and flooding over the hands.

Jay chuckled. "Yeah - all thanks to you."

"You're welcome."

He sighed. Just like old times.

"Where are we going?" Jay whined, struggling to keep up - the grass was tall here and his legs were too short.

"You'll see. Just trust me."

"We met yesterday, I don't want to trust you."

Robin laughed.

Eventually, after following the river for ages, they came upon a clearing: a bridge.

"Aww, awesome!" Robin ran onto it. "The water's so high today."

Jay frowned. Then Robin kicked off his shoes, his socks, and sat himself down - legs hanging, feet dipped in the water. And the frowning intensified.

"Umm, what are you doing?"

He looked up at his accompaniment. "Come join."

"No way."

"I'll drag you."

"You dare!"

Robin chuckled. "You know I won't. Come on - you don't have to put your feet in, just sit by me."

Jay paused, hesitated, but complied: he sat himself down and the water rushed beneath them, whistling softly.

"How did you find this place?"

"Same way you found me." He curled in on himself slightly. "Wandering."

He hummed in acceptance. "Do many people come through here?"

"Nah, I've never seen anyone."

"Are you here a lot?"

"So many questions today," he said, smirking. Jay felt called out, felt like retracting. "You know, you don't have to fill the silences: they're comfortable."

"If you say so."

"Are they not for you?"

He awkwardly laughed. "Never."

Robin paused, deliberating. "Oh," he muttered. "We could listen to some music?"

"Or I could go home."

Robin's head snapped round, eyes falling sad; and Jay's filled with regret.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry - I didn't mean that. It was a joke, a very bad one."

Eventually, Robin broke into a smile. "You're adorably awkward." And Jay's face went red.

"We spent so much time here," Robin sighed comfortably. "It's so nice to be back."

"Robin…" Jay started. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Pretend everything's gone back to the way it was."

"I wasn't - "

"Of course you were. Because those times were great, and I miss them so much, but something happened by the end that changed that so much that you came to hate me, and you ended it. And… and you're dead. Reminiscing is dangerous enough, but we both know we can never go back."

With that, in silence, Robin sagged, and look down at his feet. "I know. Of course I know. I knew that the moment I realised I was dead. Even if I was still here, everything was ruined: we could never go back. I watched you move on - I watched you hate me. I longed for so long to be able to turn back time. Do you remember those dreams you used to have, of us back in this spot, back then, still alive, before the worst? That was me: I laid my hand on your head and together we would dream. But when you woke, I saw the pain that caused you, how you realised again the reality. I knew you had to move on. So forgive me for giving in and wanting to live that bliss again." His fingers were wrapping themselves tensely round each other. "I thought you'd like seeing me again. But now I realise I'm holding you back: if you immerse yourself in this with me, your real life - the life without me - might fall apart. I don't want to eclipse you." His hands moved back and he started to push himself up. "Maybe I should just go."

"No - "

"Well I've have to eventually!" he snapped. "I'm fucking dead! You have to move on: we both do."

Jay gulped. He reached out a hand, remembered, and withdrew. "Maybe I don't want to."

Robin's jaw clenched. "Well tough. I didn't want to either. But that's just the way it is."

He frowned. But let it go. "You know, holding back and pushing others away isn't always the best thing to do. Don't you remember how we met?" Robin scoffed but said nothing. "You might think you're saving yourself from pain, but you might be keeping yourself from happiness."

"Oh fuck you," he growled. "I've been where you're standing and I tried that: I let myself immerse in it once - made a whole poem out of it - and it brought me the biggest heartbreak of my life."

Jay fell deathly silent. The poem:

Have we ever truly live beneath a moonless sky?

His heart shuddered.

"You knew - when you read that poem, you knew what it meant: I wasn't subtle."

He hung his head, unable to say a single word.

Now he looks toward the dark and fears not what's above, for with this bright and handsome sun the moon may be in love.

"Now why," Robin interrogated, leaning closer, "were you pretending that never happened?"

He shivered. "You were too."

"No, not just now: were you ashamed?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I-I don't - "

"Were you ashamed that I liked you?"

"No, I - it was me! I was ashamed of myself." His heart was pounding. He didn't dare look up. "I'm ashamed of what I did that night: of what I did to you." A tense silence swelled between them and the wind seemed to still. "I should never have… that song…"

For a long time, nothing was said, no one moved. Jay held back tears and didn’t dare swallow to spare his parched throat. Robin, meanwhile, took it all in, and Jay so feared those thoughts.

"I knew it. I always knew."

Then Jay was alone. And his tears fell freely.

The Spring sun was starting to set and the sky lit up in front of them: layers of orange and pink and eventually purple started to climb up the sky, between the trees, and the space around them darkened. But still they stayed, even as the air grew crisp, side by side on the bridge.

Jay zipped his hoodie up and put his hands in his pockets.

"Getting cold?" Robin asked. Jay nodded. "Wanna go?"

"It's okay. It's nice out here. My room window faces a wall."

He gained a soft laugh. "Oh yeah."

Crickets were faintly chirping as if the rustling of the leaves was the bassline to their melody. Yet even so, the sounds were faint, and no one said a word. And Jay felt calm.

But he was starting to shiver. Robin looked over, thought, and mumbled an affectionate "Here" as he wrapped an arm round Jay's waist and let him rest against his warmth. He relaxed, rest his head against the shoulder, and mumbled "Thank you."

The clock was ticking on the wall: a bright white eye, looking down, tutting. Jay was so tempted to take it down and shut it up but that wasn't his place: here he sat in one of the music practice rooms. After all: Robin may be back, but he was right - Jay's life was still playing on, and he had a performance to prepare.

He stretched his fingers for a run-through, ran through some trills and vocal warm-ups, and rooted himself in his seat. Then, fingers resting on the keys, he started to play. The tune was light - at least, his playing was - and slow enough to keep him calm. If he closed his eyes the keys were clear in his mind and the clock could be a distant memory. But strangely, what couldn't be was Robin. Even before, even in this very room, he'd managed to get passed that - to stop imagining him there listening. But now, Robin's words were playing out: his focus was off, his timing wavered, and he couldn't even sing. He stopped, the silence of failure fell, and his fingers withdrew.

"Do you really have to be here right now?" He sighed, feeling the presence above him but not daring to look up. Subtly, he pulled his sleeves down further over his hands. "I have a life to continue."

"Sorry. You know I don't exactly have anywhere else to go."

"Well where do you go, then, when I can't see you?"

He shrugged: he was leaning over the top of the piano. "Nowhere - you just can't see me. Or sometimes I go somewhere else, like the bridge. I went to my old room once." He shivered. "I came at a bad time."

"Can you - " He snapped, then sighed. "I have four days."

"Not my fault you left it 'til the last minute."

"No - you don't get to act like this isn't your fault. You're the one that came back. You're the one that's interfering now."

Robin stared, and slowly dropped his arms from the piano. "I miss the times when you weren't always mad at me."

"Well I miss the times when you weren't dead, and whose fault are they both?"

He said nothing.

"Now go away so I can finish this." He looked back to the score and brought his hands to the keys.

But Robin didn't go. "We haven't finished our talk yet."

Jay's hands froze mid-air and stubbornly waited to be allowed to play. "What, the one where you tell me why you died? Because you're taking your sweet time with it. You told me I hurt more because I didn't know, but all you've done is tell me how it's my fault."

"Jay, no - "

"Just tell me." He looked up, eyes locked. "Tell me this one thing: did you cut again because of me?"

Silence. Tense, anticipatory silence, where every second was as thin as ice. His mind's eye couldn't rid him of the vivid image of Robin's body on the bridge, deathly pale, still, the forearms split in half.

And sharp, with a deep breath and sad eyes, the reply cut through:

"Yes." Jay's heart dropped and he felt so sick. "I cut because I knew our friendship was over."

The song. The fucking song.

Jay kept his face blank, even though his throat was tight, and looked back down. "Now let me practise."

And now, without a word, without a glance, Robin was gone.

Just to make sure that he was no longer around, Jay fled to the nearest bathroom and made sure to lock the door. He shouldn't. He really knew he shouldn't. But it was too late. He pushed up his sleeves and the lines became apparent. One hit and you can't stop. His vision clouded, tears already falling, and his stomach felt twisted and sick. He had to be punished. His hands ruffled through the bag. He'd dedicated himself to saving Robin, to giving him a reason to live, to giving him that happiness instead of the pain that he feared if he just held on. But he'd made it worse. He'd brought him to his death. He forced the plastic off the sharpener and pressed the blade into his skin, and his cries were bitten down. He had to know his pain. He had to be punished.

“Hey," Robin greeted, being first to the café this time. Jay grinned and sat himself down. "Wanna get a drink?"

"Sure." He made to move but Robin beat him up.

"I'll get it. I'm paying."

"No, don't do that!"

"Too late!" And he was off.

Jay fell back against the back of his seat and quietly laughed to himself. How had this guy changed so much in just a couple of weeks? This wasn't at all who he'd expected to be lying beneath.

"So," Robin called as he sat back down. "Wanna go back to the bridge today? Or maybe somewhere else?"

"Ah…" Jay's smile wavered and he started to fumble his fingers round the coffee cup. "Actually, I can only do coffee today. I've got a summative to start prepping for."

"Oh." Robin slowly sat back. "Well don't worry - I've got some too, I'm sure I should be working on them."

A silence, even with the buzz of chatter in this room, still grew like a bubble between them. Jay had been getting used to being comfortable in their shared silences, but some can still be unsettling by design.

"Well…" he nervously asked, "how are you with working in the same room as others?"

Robin finally perked up. "I'd love that!"

Jay felt his heart warming at the sight. "Well, there's also one more catch."

"What's that?"

"I study Performing Arts." Robin cocked his head. "I have a music summative."

And then the eyes flashed with understanding. "I see no catch."

An excited laugh burst out of him and suddenly he was nervous. Performing in front of strangers was one thing; in front of a lone examiner is another; but a friend? That was terrifying.

He took him to the music practice rooms - the same one he always booked - and they sat themselves down. As Jay took out his folder of sheet music, he glanced over to Robin, who only took out a reading book from his bag.

"Do you need to go get your summative stuff by the way?" He kicked himself for not asking before.

“Oh, it's alright - I've got everything I need right in here:" he tapped on his bag. Jay frowned. "I study English Lit with Creative Writing."

"Oh." He kicked himself - again.

And Robin grinned to himself. "Yep. I kinda need to read the book first before I start planning an essay on it, y'know? Though it's not like anyone actually reads these books anyway."

"Isn't that the point of your course?"

"Yep. It's kinda like performing a song from a musical you've never seen."

At that, Jay suddenly went sheepish.

"Oh, tell me you didn't."

He fumbled with his papers, not saying a single word.

"I thought you were better than this." They both chuckled.

"Well I like to make my own interpretations. I find it hard to sing a line that I don't think fits the point, so I find a way to make it fit."

Robin's eyes glazed with confusion. "Yeah sorry - what do you mean?"

"Well, you can't sing or act or dance without emotion, and if a certain move or line doesn't fit with the feeling then it's going to fall flat in the piece. Does that ever happen in the stuff you read - or write?" After a moment of thought, Robin's eyes shined, and he nodded. And Jay felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Thank god - I thought I'd sound mad."

"Don't worry, you didn't - just this once."

"Oh shut up, you nerd."

"You thespian."

"That's a horrible word please don't ever use it."

Robin giggled.

So he got reading, and Jay got to the piano. He stretched his fingers and did some quiet warm-up trills - nothing Robin wouldn't too loudly hear - and, with a wavering breath, started to play. It started off with just the right hand, the treble's score, just lightly, and soon the left, the bass, gently joined too. And the dynamic slowly built, still in harmony - and then it stopped.

"What?! No!"

Jay jumped and spun around.

"Why did you stop! That was amazing."

His face turned bright red. "You weren't supposed to be listening."

"I told you: no one reads on this course." The book was shut and untouched on the table. "And I never promised I'd work, I promised to come with you whilst you worked." He was grinning so wide but this wasn't his usual teasing - this is genuine.

And Jay had zero clue how to respond to that. He continued to blush and shrank into himself.

"But you warmed up your voice." Dammit. "Aren't you gonna sing?"

"I-I was, but… well, you're here."

Robin just stared, blinked, and looked blank. "But you invited me."

"Well I didn't think I'd freeze up like this."

"Well why did you?"

Jay scoffed. "How would you like to try reading me some of your stuff right now?" Robin's eyes widened and flashed with fear. "See?"

"Fair point, I apologise." He sneakily hid his bag beneath his foot under his chair, and Jay couldn't help but smile. "If you want to try singing, I could always go somewhere else."

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that."

"Or I just, I don't know, hide in the bathroom for a very long time?"

They both chuckled. "No, it's okay. You can stay." Jay said this with a growing smile, and the way Robin's face lit up made it so worth it.

He spent his days practically camping in the practice room, scores scattered everywhere regardless of whether he was looking at them, like dead leaves that piled up at the riverbank. The piano was starting to gather dust - he hadn't laid a finger on it once since the last time Robin was here. He came, in the nights, but Jay waved him off and went straight to bed. He didn't sleep for a very long time but he couldn't face the alternative. His arms were starting to ache and itch and the threads of his sleeves were starting to fuse with the scabs. He knew this wasn't a permanent solution, that the depression wasn't going to get him anywhere. But he couldn't get out. He couldn't go back to ignorance knowing what he'd caused, knowing with every second that went by, because of him, Robin wouldn't live it too. It wasn't fair. No - he couldn't go back.

The days went by in various places - on the bridge, in the café, in their rooms, but when summatives approached they were always found in this practice room. Robin read away or scribbled in his notebook whilst Jay, in a way, provided the study music. Sometimes he'd hum to himself, or sing the words in a quiet register - not out of shyness but in respect for Robin's work.

"Fuck," he groaned, rolling his head back in frustration.

"What's wrong?" He didn't even have to look up from his work - this was practically routine.

"I have a composition piece to do but my mind has gone blank. I usually write lyrics when I've got the music or the music once I've got the lyrics, but coming up with both out of nothing is just - ugh!"

Robin quietly laughed. "I don't know, I don't write songs - I can't even read sheet music. But you're welcome to take a break with me if you want."

Jay didn't hesitate to leap out of his seat and into the one beside Robin. He peered over his shoulder at the notebook in front of him on the table. "So whatcha working on?"

"A poem. I've wanted to write it for ages but I just can't seem to find the right words either, so right now I'm kinda writing 'stream of consciousness' style about it." He, as usual, shrugged. "Give it a read if you like."

So Jay scanned the page:

"A piano - the faintest and softest sounds play like a prelude to something alike to Monet - the keys rise and they fall, gently swaying in time, rhythm soothing, legato, in waves of sublime."

"Isn't it mad though," Robin chuckles, "that on different courses we both have to write?"

"Well yeah, but they can overlap - we can both try scriptwriting can't we?"

"Oh yeah."

"And my songs rarely have the same level of symbolism and elegance as yours - just look at this! Can I borrow it?"

Robin was startled but with Jay's excitement he didn't bring himself to object. So Jay took the notebook and scrambled back over to the piano, laid it on the stand in front of his blank staves, and hummed to himself, staring intensely at the lyrics, and eventually experimented with some chords.

"Hey!" he spun round, practically beaming. "Check this out!"

He turned back, and - one hand on the piano - started to sing.

"A piano - the faintest and softest sounds playlike a prelude to something alike to Monet"

Robin's mouth fell agape. "No way. Did you just…"

Jay grinned to himself and stopped playing. "You based this on my playing, right?" Stunned, and wide-eyed, he frantically nodded his head. "Well I based my playing on your poem!"

Robin's face brightened with a smile. "That's so cool."

"Would I be able to use this? I'll credit you, of course."

"No, of course." His smile beamed. "Go right ahead. But can I have my notebook back first?"

Jay laughed to himself and mumbled a small apology as he gave it back. "You're the best, you know?"

Robin scoffed and buried his face and focus in the notebook. "Shut up."

No thoughts were in his head anymore as he walked himself down: no worries, no preoccupations, no 'what ifs'. His mind was blank. Fatigue, probably. Surrender too. Futility. It wasn't that he'd thought this through - it was a passive, natural path. The wind was so silent and still he couldn't feel it, couldn't let it keep him grounded. Even the chill of the turn of the afternoon wasn't pricking his skin: Only the itch of the scars did. He was by the riverbank sooner than he'd realised, and stood with his feet right at the edge. His heavy gaze lifted to the horizon, to where Robin had once been, slumped and furled, weeping. If only he'd died right then. He would've been happier. He probably wouldn't be stuck in between - he'd get his definite end. His fingers retrieved the blade from his pocket and its weight no longer took its toll. They never did watch the sunset together, but the sun was finally setting, and the moon was on its last crescent.

"WAIT!"

Robin appeared on the edge before him, a river apart. His eyes were wide.

"You can't really be doing this. You can't!"

Jay only stared, never blinked, and said nothing.

“You think I didn't see the signs? I fucking lived them Jay!"

"Well why didn't you do anything then? Why didn't you say something, or stop me?" Robin was silent. "That's right. Because you can't."

"Please, Jay. Don't do this."

"Why not? Isn't it better this way? Isn't it right, after all that I did to you?"

"No! You never did anything! You brought me happiness - you saved me!"

"I killed you!" Tears were falling quickly down his face. "I broke your heart, and made you cut, and I killed you."

"No." His voice got softer. "I did it. It was an accident."

"Suicide is never an accident."

"It always is. Believe me."

Only now, as the leaves flew rapidly past and the waters between them crashed, did Jay realise that the wind was horrifically violent.

"You really don't want to do this. Just listen to me. Just like you did when we first stood here."

"Oh, like I knew what I was talking about. I promised you happiness when I never even knew who you were. You could've been right to end it back then."

"No, I never would've been. You're talking mad."

"Really? Because for the first time your death is making sense."

Robin desperately shook his head. He pleaded. "But you've got it wrong. I remember now. I remember what happened, and why you can't. You were drunk."

Jay frowned. "Huh?"

"That night - after the concert, you came to see me, but you drank to build up your courage. Don't you remember?"

His heart thumped. His fingers loosened, and the blade finally dropped.

He remembered.

In the wings of the stage he was shaking and his stomach was flipping and twisting with butterflies. Maybe this wasn't the good idea that he'd thought it was. He'd been so excited: it's easy to lose your sense of practicality and reason when the brain is warped by emotion. But here he was - crowd buzzing, lights bright and flooding the stage, music filling his head - it was too late to turn back now.

He'd found the notebook one evening when Robin had left early, left behind in his rush to get to his lecture, and couldn't help his curiosity. He knew he shouldn't have, especially not with what he found, but he'd seen it: the poem that all too clearly told Jay everything. And perhaps he should have left it at that, pretended like he'd never seen it, because Robin didn't appear to be wanting to tell him. But Robin also didn't have the final piece to that puzzle, the piece that always makes the decision of confessing or concealing so difficult.

"And please welcome, with an original song by yours truly, Jay Hartley!"

His breath left him, and for a moment he couldn't move. He could cope with stage fright, but knowing Robin was out there, and what this performance would mean for them, made it so much terrifying. Applause filled his ears but started to blur, and, knowing all eyes were setting on him, he stepped out onto the stage.

He took to the grand piano and settled himself down on the stool, adjusted the mic, and laid his feet on the pedals and fingers on the keys.

“This is called 'A Moonful Sky'."

Then he took a deep breath, and began.

A bassline began, low but soft, like a big cat's purr, like a plane in the night sky, each note by itself, like raindrops. And only when the treble began did he also start to sing:

"Have we ever truly lived beneath a moonless sky? Have you ever thought to think about the moon up high? Through blackened nights and hazy days a story may have been: so look toward the sky and dream of what the moon has seen.

Once upon a starry a night his tears lit up the sky. His light began to fade and soon he'd say his last goodbye. When just the waning part remained and night it seemed would end, the sun appeared with light and warmth and so his life sustained

and then there came a dawn that he had never thought he'd see: a time so bright and vibrant - oh, he'd never felt so free - and when he looked upon the sun with stars within his eyes, he asked to never lose this sight, that light would never die,

so sun and moon stand side by side within the day's blue sky he's faint, but with the sun's warm light he won't dare say goodbye, and now he looks toward the dark and fears not what's above, for with this bright and handsome sun the moon may be in love."

He looks towards the audience and Robin's eyes catch with his, wide, knowing, scared. Jay tries to smile.

"So look toward the sky and dream a dream of them in love."

And with a swift and soft arpeggio and harmony, the song was done, and the crowd roared with applause.

Shaking, but warm with joy, Jay stood and faced the audience and with a beaming smile he took his bow - and Robin ran. The smile wavered but, authenticity lost, the show must go on: so he couldn't help but grin as his stomach got sicker as he watched Robin flee from the room.

He ran after him. Still in his suit and tie that he'd worn for the stage, he ran, as well as he could, anywhere. Where could he have gone? The lake? The bridge? No - where would he go if he doesn’t want to be find, doesn't want to be reached?

His room.

So Jay ran as fast as he could, passing the SU café on the one. And then he stopped. If someone doesn't want to be found, should you really be so quick to seek them out?

He took out his phone.

"Come on, come on, please answer me."

It clicked. "Jay please." His voice was hoarse - the hoarseness of a dry throat and tears.

"Why did you run? Robin please, I swear, it was supposed to be good."

"It was good, of course it was, but… you stole my song…"

"I know! But I gave you credit, I always do. I'm sorry for reading it without your permission and for using it too, but I wanted to tell you - "

"That you know?" His voice broke and Jay's heart broke with it. "That you know how I feel? Do you know how scary that is?"

"I - "

"So you wanted to hurt me with it?"

"Robin no! I wanted to help you."

Silence - save for a stifled sob. "Help me?"

And suddenly, as the moment came, Jay choked. His heart began to pound, and his conquering of stage fright had never prepared him for this.

"Give me a few minutes. Could we… can I see you?"

Rightly, but tensely, Robin hesitated. "… Okay. I'll come round when I can."

His head ached in the morning. Robin had helped him walk home, that much he knew, but he'd spaced out so much he couldn't remember much else. But none of that mattered - he was here now, by his bedside.

"Are you feeling alright?" he softly said. Jay lethargically nodded, and faintly Robin's face grew to beam with a gentle smile. "I'm so glad you're okay."

He frowned, and groggily said "How did I…?"

"You know, when you're in that kind of mindset, you're really out of it: you dissociate. I just led you home - you did the rest."

His gaze fell down to his wrists: irritated and scarred, but nothing fresher. "I should…" His voice trailed off as he reached for some bandages and patched himself up. Meanwhile, Robin stayed, perched, at his side, watching his every move.

"You look terrible." Sluggish, Jay just stared. His face fell. "Joking. You really aren't yourself anymore. Well, you haven't been yourself since my death. If I dared, I say nowadays you've been sounding like the old me."

"Robin…" His voice was quiet, and Robin sank a bit as if to reach its level. "You have to tell me now. What happened the night of the concert? What made you drift away?"

In his eyes Jay could see the story, could see the pain - then Robin looked away. "I just don’t know how you'll feel about it."

"If I caused it, I - "

"No," he cut in, taking a deep breath. "It was my fault: nothing you did. But that's not what I'm worried about." He suddenly looked very sheepish, regretful, guilty? Jay found the look hard to place. "I don’t know if you'll regret it, or you'll think I did something terrible. But… but it was the happiest I'd ever been."

Jay left the door open for him, and when he finally arrived there were empty bottles on the window sill. Jay had never been a drinker.

He took a deep breath in when Jay turned and saw him, and closed the door behind him. "H-have you been drinking?"

He nodded - a lot. "I needed to. I got nervous. Funny - I never need this 'liquid courage' for going on stage, but for talking to you, I really do."

"How much did you have?"

He waved the question off. "Enough to make my insecurities shut up for a while, because there's no way out of this now." He pushed himself up from the bed and stood, shoulders held consciously back, before him. "I thought the song might tell you that I... that..." He sighed, and looked away. "Think about it: if I wanted to hurt you for liking me, why would I make the song so beautiful?"

Robin hesitated. His heart was pounding but he didn't quite know why. "To get a good grade?"

To that, Jay - or the alcohol - chuckled. "No, you..." He groggily shook his head. "You moron. Honestly..." Then, to Robin's surreal surprise, Jay reached his hand round his neck and slightly brought them close. "Why on earth do I like you?"

A part of him was desperate to pull back, but the rest of him - the part that had wanted this for so long with no such satisfaction - kept him close. "Wait, you...?"

"You are so damn slow." He brought them closer, eyes glancing - now, gazing down to his lips. "Why do I so want to kiss you?"

Robin gulped. He didn't resist, didn't reject - he found himself leaning forwards and catching Jay's lips. And their hearts both burst like a solar flare throughout their bodies and he couldn't bring himself away - only closer and closer. They fell, onto the bed, and Robin was quickly cornered against the wall. The slight taste of alcohol from that mouth did nothing to put him off, to remind him that Jay was very not sober and that this probably shouldn't be happening. But as Jay kissed him so deeply, so desperately, so perfectly satisfying of his long-awaited desires, he couldn't help but wrap his arms round Jay's neck, keeping them joined in their bright, loving eclipse.

"So I… I did tell you, in the end?"

Robin was slightly breathless, and his cheeks were very red: he gently nodded, a slight smile reaching his face and making it brighten. "So you… don't… regret… doing that with me?"

Jay smiled back. "I just wish I could remember it." Robin chuckled. "But I'd confessed, and we'd… we'd finally gotten together. So why did things go so downhill?" He was frowning - not in anger, but in sadness. "What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything." Robin's shyness returned, and his gaze drifted once again. "I just… I got scared. I feared you wouldn't remember, and I was right, but maybe…" He heavily sighed. "I should have just stayed. I should have stayed in that bed and let you wake up by my side. Then… but you, what if you… what if you regretted it, and it freaked you out? I wouldn't want to be there for that - "

"Robin." He looked up, eyes wide with overthought. "It's okay."

He forced a slight smile, took a long deep breath in, and continued. "I panicked. I ran back to my room and feared you waking in the morning. I didn't sleep, but all night I started to worry that you might remember, and that you'd be disgusted, because you were drunk and I shouldn't have let you… I shouldn't have - "

"Robin."

He nodded a few times and steadied himself. "I don't know where your memories ended, but I had even less of a clue back then. So when you looked so sad, so worried, wandering campus by yourself, how could I approach you? When you caught my eyes and held so much regret, how could I have assumed anything but that you should never have let that night happen?" He quietly sniffled and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of the hoodie, raising the little decrescent to the light. "So I panicked. I hid, and I cut. I spiralled, barely even knowing why, just panicking that I'd messed up and ruined our friendship and hurt you so much."

Silence fell, as the weight of regret and what could have been finally weighed down upon them. Here in this room, where Jay had felt such loneliness, such absence, when now Robin was back to fill it, why didn't it feel like that? When he'd wanted him back for so long, craved his presence at his side all this time, why isn't that void filled? Why must it feel like a ghost?

Because time had moved on. Mistakes had been made, accidents happened, and there was no going back. Jay missed the old times, missed the road that they were on, but it had crumbled, and his new road he walked alone.

“I wish I could hold you." His voice was light, his throat dry.

Robin looked to him and sadly smiled. "I know. I'd wish for it more than anything."

Jay's fingers squeezed round a handful of covers, knowing he'll never satisfy that wish.

"But you know what happens now, right?"

Jay's lip trembled. He didn't dare look up.

"I'm so sorry." Robin moved to knell in front of him, to make him meet his eyes: and they were wide, and deep, and full of so much sadness. "I knew from the start that this time would come - in a way, you must've done too - and I'm so sorry: I didn't want to hurt you this way."

Tears fell, but he couldn't stop them. He couldn't accept it, couldn't let it play out: he wished so damn hard that he had a choice. "But I only just got you back."

"I know." His gaze no longer dropped, and neither did Jay's: he would drink up every second he could have. "But you'll move on again. You'll get back on track, and look back on me and no longer hurt - "

"You can't," he whined.

" - and maybe one day you'll forget about me, and that will be okay - "

"You can't!"

Robin stopped. He watched and waited intently.

"I can't lose you again."

"You're not. You know I've always been gone."

His heart thumped desperately in his chest, the words climbing his throat, begging to finally be said: "I love you." Robin's eyes went wide. "So please don't go."

They were silent: so silent that Jay's desperate heartbeat was flooding his head. Robin reached out, without a word, without a sound, and unfeelingly rested his hand - tremoring in overwhelm - over Jay's.

"I love you too. I've loved you so, so much. But we don't have a choice," he stressed with a tense and clearly reluctant swallow. "I have to go now."

"No." The hand slipped away. "No, please," he gasped. Robin stood himself up. "Just for a bit, just a tiny bit longer, please hold on."

And, for a sweet, timeless moment, Robin hesitated. He gazed at the other, their pain and love reflected like a gently disturbed lake, and took a deep breath in.

"I'll try," he says with the soft and sad smile of someone who enjoys a happy moment in the saddest of times. "I'll give you the night - my final night "

The backdrop was black and dozens of little lights pulsed at intervals along its expanse: a sparkling starry night. No clouds, no sun, no moon. Yet every star, in their infinity, mattered, for every moment of this performance. And to the side, spotlight shining down, Jay stood - suited up, radiating. The buzz hushed down, crowd stilling in wait, invisible under the cloak of this brief dark. His breath wavered, his hands shook, but the scars were old and healing, and the absence in the room no longer pained him: it belonged to the past.

"You are sunlight and I moon joined by the gods of fortune midnight and high noon sharing the sky we have been blessed, you and I."

The fact that this song is not meant as a solo never escapes me, but the absence of the other half doesn't hold back my performance: I make it my own. And my voice - it's strengthened by the emotions that I can back it with, I can sing out my pains in a final bright catharsis: a supernova is the only appropriate ending for that story.

That night - that blissful, almost timeless bubble of that final night - was spent at the bridge, legs dangling into the water, side by side. Jay's arms rested on the bar in front of their chest and he gazed out, as the sun set and the sky revealed it colours, as the warmth and light calmly started to dim. And as it set, with never a word spoken, he watched the water sparkle and shine with the stars above that it reflected. The moon, in the centre of the sky, was beaming bright but at its final fading crescent. His eyes fell down to his hoodie, inspecting it's embroidery in the faint moonlight that could light it: hadn't Robin said, so long ago, that it wasn't a crescent but a decrescent, the final quarter?

"Can I..." he suddenly choked, only just feeling the tears breaking through the blockade. "Can I just ask you one question, before you go?" Robin glanced over to him, eyes lit up with his final viewing of such a typical sight. "Back at the start, was saving your life the right thing to do?"

Robin beamed a smile. "All those years of wishing I was dead, and you make me wish I could come back. And I know, even though I'll soon be gone, that the year we spent together meant so much, and always will."

The tears fell onto a smile, and Jay let himself keep staring, to make every moment last, to make sure he never forgets him.

You are here like a mystery I'm from a world that's so different from all that you are how in the light of one night did we come so far?

"You're getting tired."

Jay let out a quiet, sleepy whine. "No, I can't - I don't want to fall asleep."

"I know. But you'll have to eventually."

Jay sobbed, but could say nothing else.

"You don't mourn the moon in the morning."

"But you know the moon always comes back."

Outside day starts to dawn your moon still floats on high the birds awake the stars shine too my hands still shake I reach for you and we meet in the sky."

He was slumped sleepily against Robin's shoulder, half-eyeing the moon as it shines so brightly before him. Time it seemed was endless, still, and the sun was forever setting. The wind was gently singing and the leaves offered their harmony. The chill of the approaching night, for once, didn't phase him, and the water felt perfect on his feet. Mid-first year - the perfect time.

"Jay," the voice came, in the gentlest of whispers. "I have to go."

He hummed a reply, for once letting him go. He let him stand up and leant over the bar of the bridge instead. "I'll see you again, right?"

The reply was delayed, and eventually, softly, he said "Always."

Then the sun finally set, and his presence was there no more.

"You are sunlight and I moon joined here bright'ning the sky with the flame of love."

The track trailed off and the applause slowly grew, and Jay revelled in his moment of stardom. Now the song was done, and at last dimmed the stars of the moonless sky - and finally the sun could rise and follow the path that finally seemed so bright, alone.

#am writing #my writing #my prose #writeblr #writerblr

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