Frank and Tim said goodbye. They could try to be friends, but they said goodbye as lovers.
Tim felt like his soul was going through some sort of mental divorce from his body. Lead of sorrow filled his chest, and somehow it felt like the world has ended. Frank said goodbye. Forever. Him and Mary and the kids are moving away.
Logically Tim understood, but deep inside he couldn't possibly defeat his fury and confusion. He tried hard to hide it, smiling gently and nodding; promising to visit, and wishing well. But he should have known better. Frank knew him. He knew him so well he saw through this shield of politeness.
What's the matter, Tim?
Nothing...nothing...evrything is fine...
Aha. Are you SURE?
Yes, Frank, I am sure.
Tim sighed, and got ready to leave. Frank mumbled something about the worst goodbye he ever heard and everything just swirled into madness. Frank's kisses, Tim's tears, Frank's shirt, Tim's pants, hot breath, fast pulse. Passion that was too forbidden to contain and too precious to forget about.
Tim felt Frank's love spilling out, almost as if Frank wanted to get rid of it, cleanse himself before he leaves. Why? Why was this world, this life separating two people that were meant to be? Tim knew the answer, ever since childhood he knew things happen to hurt him and to make him stronger. If Frank can't make him happy, then noone can. Noone will.
The conviction was so strong that when Frank started to get dressed, Tim felt like dying. No, he felt dead already.
Silence was cold and unbearable. Frank was piercing Tim with his glare. Frank's gorgeous brown eyes were a kleidoscope of emotions. He hated Tim for making his life complicated, he loved Tim for making him feel passion. Maybe in another life, in another world. Frank's jaw tightened.
I'm sorry, Tim...
Frank turned around, and walked towards the door, while Tim mumbled okay, and smiled gently like he always does. Frank thought that it took him forever to get to that door. He stopped. Part of him wanted to turn right back, to hold Tim, to kiss him, to lose himself in him....But he didn't. He was just about to leave, then he suddenly felt that something wasn't right. This goodbye was missing something.
He turned back to look at Tim, who had his face buried in his hands. His beautiful face in his beautiful hands.
I love you, Tim.
And just as Tim looked up, the door was shut. The door that would never open again. The door into Frank Pembelton's heart.