Sighs

I watched from a distance as Danny lay back in his bed, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. And slowly, he let it out raising a hand to absently finger at the air as if it were an earlock. My heart dropped for a second at the reminder of days of old. Days where Danny was oppressed and suffering and all he could do was talk to me. Now he had a job, and a house, and a wife, and we were no longer children anymore. I missed Danny. I never stopped thinking about him. I worried that he never thought of me, that he didn't need me anymore. I continued walking down the narrow corridor, passing a few nurses and thinking of my time in the hospital. That if not for my time in the hospital, Danny and I would have never met. Funny how things come full circle. Finally, I came to stop in front of his bed. He looked up at me and immediately his eyes lit up, a smile spreading across his lips and roguely I thought how lucky Rachel was that she got to kiss them. Smiling back at him I muttered, "Look at that smile Danny, you'd think I was the messiah."

"You remember that Reuven?" he asked.

"Of course I remember that, do you not?" I said, alarmed, as I sat down in the chair next to his bed.

"I remember everything Reuven," he smirked, "especially when it comes to you. I remember that smile. It made me feel warm. I had felt very cold those days." Memories flooded back to my head. The ball game. Reb Saunders. The silence. I closed my eyes and shook my head slowly, as if to shake away the memories.

"So how are you feeling?" I asked, changing the subject, not wanting to call back up those sick days of suffering and need.

"Better now that they're treating me. I just hope to get back to work soon, those kids really need my help and a few days without therapy could knock back their progress immensely," I could see the distress and worry surfacing on his face so I reached up and squeezed his hand. He glanced down at our hands and smiled.

"I missed you Reuven," he flipped his hand over so that we were palm to palm. "I missed talking to you, telling you everything." He paused for a second."I need to tell you everything. Can I tell you everything?" I looked over at him.

"Of course Danny. You're always welcome to talk to me," I assured him, rubbing my thumb up against his.

"I miss the easiness of our relationship," he started, somewhat abruptly, but then again Danny was never one to mince words. "I miss lazy afternoons and sound of your laugh. I miss the light in your eyes and the feeling of your skin, Reuven." I was quiet for a second.

"I miss you too Danny," I managed dumbly.

"I love Rachel, Reuven, deeply. She's a strong woman. She's funny and kind and beautiful. But she and I don't share what you and I share, and never will; because you and I share a more profound bond; because you were with me through my lowest point; and for that I love you, and for that I thank you." He looked up shyly, but I could see the affection clear in his eyes and the tint on his cheeks.

"You're welcome Danny," I replied. I didn't know what to say. I agreed with him wholeheartedly. Something had changed in our relationship. When Danny was stressed as a kid he used to call me and we'd sit in our corner of the library with our legs pressed against each other's and giggle, and enjoy the other's company. He'd tell me why he was upset and admit something secret to me and I'd give him my take on it and he'd feel better. Now though, we can't just drop everything and run off to the back of the 3rd floor of a random library in Williamsburg. So he'll call me up and he'll sound stressed, and I'll know something is wrong, but he won't want to bother me so he'll tell me it's all okay, and I'll know he's keeping stuff from me, which feels entirely unnatural, and he'll sigh and I'll sigh and tell him to talk to Rachel about it. I hang up afterwards but I know he won't talk to her about it. Because I know we share a more profound bond. Because I know he only tells me these things. It hit me then slowly what he said before he thanked me. He said he loved me.

"And I love you too Danny, "I whispered. He looked up at me through his eyelashes. His blue eyes looked tired and sad. I was sad too. I looked out the window at the people. Danny once told me they looked like ants and then proceeded to tell of a passage he read in Hemmingway about ants burning alive. I sighed. He sighed. Then, slowly, I lowered my head and rested it on the pillow next to his. He turned his head and looked at me, his blue eyes staring into my brown ones. A slight smile brushed his lips, and I gave him a small smile back.

"I love you Reuven," he whispered.

"I love you too Danny.".