Chapter Text
I'm torn between a state of worry and amusement as I watch Frédéric toss and turn with an exasperated groan. His thin frame is illuminated by the soft light streaming through the window, making him look almost ghost-like. His hands tremble like leaves in a storm as he reaches up to brush loose strands of hair from his face. The rest is tied back in a strap at the nape of his neck, brown like chestnuts and autumn leaves.
Perhaps it's inappropriate of me to think of him this way at such a time, but he's so terribly alluring that it hurts.
What hurts even more is that he will never be mine.
I sigh and push myself out of the rickety chair I swore to dispose of years ago. His soft sighs grow louder as I cross the room.
Red rims his closed eyes while his cheeks and lips lack their usual coloring, giving him a gaunt appearance. My fingertips brush the top of his earlobe and he shudders, his long eyelashes fluttering. Blue eyes collide with hazel and I'm devastated again by how much I want him.
"Franz?" He murmurs.
"Frédéric," I smile. "How are you feeling?"
"Like death." My poor friend runs a thin hand down his face.
I can't help but chuckle at his comical suffering. "You're adorable when you're sick."
A pause.
A sharp inhale.
He blinks.
"What?"
I silently curse my stupidity and wring my hands behind my back. "I-I just mean how dramatic y-you are..."
Frédéric chuckles and lifts his gaze to the ceiling. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you were in love with me."
The tone of is voice is lighthearted, yet I can't help but feel like I'm being stabbed straight through the chest. I bite my lip in an attempt at controlling my expression as he makes eye contact again.
I could be hallucinating, but as the sun's rays catch his eye, I swear it looks a little brighter than usual.
I shake the thought.
"Don't be silly," | scoff. Three small words that cause me a world of pain to say. “I’m just worried, is all.” I stare pointedly at the wall but chance a glance sideways to see my friend's lips tighten into a thin line.
"Will you stay with me?" The words are so soft I wonder if I imagined them until I see Frédéric's hand reaching out to me.
I hesitate.
"Please." My breath hitches as he pleads.
I don't hesitate to sit on the edge of his bed and run my fingers through his hair. Worrying that I’ve gotten too close, I am about to distance myself when he leans into my touch, his neck arching. I don't realize that I'm leaning down until I feel his breath against my lips. His eyes are wide open like a deer in headlights and I think he's stopped breathing but in the heat of the moment I can't be sure.
I wonder how it would feel to kiss him.
The thought yanks me back into the present, reality in which society has locked me in a cage and the man I love will never love me back.
I fall off the bed in a panic.
Frédéric's worried face peeks out over the mattress, his features hazy from the spots clouding my vision.
"Are you alright?" My friend's voice sounds oddly distant from the floor. His arm hangs down and I hesitate a moment before grabbing his wrist. My cheeks flush from embarrassment, both from falling off the bed and from almost destroying our friendship that means everything to me.
"I'll bring you something to eat," I exclaim. "You must be hungry." I quickly shuffle away, ignoring his soft protests.
Once I'm out of sight, I crumple to the floor and cover my face with my hands.
I can't afford to let myself slip like this again or it will destroy me.