A/N: Not much of a story, just a random scene that'd been playing around in my head. Probably just my wishful thinking for season 4.
You'd thought admitting you loved Freddie had been hard.
Leaving him is worse.
---
He smiles as you enter his room, that shy, mildly thrilled smile he always saves for you and even now, your heart waiting anxiously outside with Cook, it's hard not to return it.
He's sitting by the open window, spliff in hand, watching the smoke curl sideways into fresh air. Doesn't get up, just holds one hand out invitingly and waits for you to take it. There was a time you would have, without hesitation. Not today.
You stay where you are, near to the door (always so ready to run) and maybe it's that because he takes one look at you and understands.
'It's over' he says. Makes it a statement instead of a question and the simplicity of it almost surprises you. Two words, one for each year you've been together.
So easy to end something that had once felt so permanent.
---
You'd always liked his room, but as you stand in it for the last time you are careful not to take stock.
Careful not to notice his skateboard under his chair, to look at the picture of his mother smiling from his bedside table.
Careful not to look at the three dirty socks at the foot of the bed or wonder what happened to the fourth.
Because the devil 's in the details. It's where the guilt lies.
So much better not to look.
'I'm sorry' you say and know how far it is from being enough.
---
You want to sit down, consider going over to his bed but it would mean moving nearer to him and you aren't brave enough for that.
'Why?' he asks and you know he's not talking about your apology.
You thought about that last night- the why- as you left Cook and got into bed with Freddie for the last time.
You think perhaps that's in the details too.
The small pieces of a life collected over time. The way they fit together with the pieces of someone else's.
A list completed, one black forest gateaux , two teenagers running from everything that makes them afraid.
Choices can be made, right or wrong, but the pieces have to fit.
Even with Freddie right in front of you, you can still see Cook stumbling down the steps of a foreign seaside town. Turning back to make sure you haven't left.
---
You don't say anything else.
It's cruelty and it's kindness and it makes no difference. It's the action that counts, that hurts. That's ultimately judged. Not the reason behind it.
What reason is ever good enough to justify betrayal?
Either way, he is unimpressed by your silence.
'You fucking coward!' He spits out the words like venom but even as he's saying them he's getting up from the window sill, moving to wrap his arms around your waist.
It feels like suffocation. Perhaps there's your why.
---
He kisses you like he can make you stay and even with his lips against yours, hot and familiar, you're imaging walking out the door.
Karen's watching T.V in the lounge and the sound of it drifts upwards.
You leave him as you found him, sitting by his window, spliff in hand.
Cook is waiting outside.