This is the opening chapter of what is planned to be my first multi-chapter fic (if you all like it ;) ). It explores what might happen if things would have taken a slightly different turn after NYD 2010. This first chapter is set in Christian's flat on the evening after Syed and Amira's wedding, so consider yourselves warned ;p.
The title and the quote is borrowed from the song Calleth you, Cometh I by the Swedish band The Ark.
No copyright infringement intended - characters belong to BBC and EastEnders
Biggest thanks and a huge *mwwwaaahh* to LoveSy for being an excellent Beta and a generally lovely and encouraging person. /xxx
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And I know that what we had
Would not be called love by the ones who know
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Breathe in. Breathe out. See. You can do it, Christian. Breathe in. Breathe out. Keep doing that and you'll be fine. Breathe in. Breathe out.
It is so dark. I know it's New Years Day, middle of winter and it's supposed to be dark but I feel like it's never been darker. The darkness is pressing against my eyes and my brain and I feel a splitting headache coming on. I haven't turned any lights on in my flat. I don't want to. I don't want to see. I don't want to be seen. I want to hide and never be found again.
Almost an hour has passed since I got back here and I'm still sitting on the floor of my hallway with my back against the wall, not able to make my legs carry me any further. I didn't know I could be this tired and still be alive.
I am so tired. Tired of trying to smile when I clearly can't. Tired of crying. Tired of having to look like I'm not falling apart. Tired of constantly having to remind myself to breathe.
There is no recollection in my mind of how I got home tonight. Actually, my memories of most things that happened today are blurry at best. Except him. Him I remember. Him I see as sharply and clearly before my eyes as if he was actually standing here right now. I see him the way he looked today, in his traditional clothing, hair brushed back from his face. Looking as stunningly gorgeous as ever. And I see him as he has looked a hundred other times. Shining like always. Like the beautiful star he is. If I close my eyes I see him. If I open my eyes… I still see him. Close and yet so, so far away. My mind assaults me with countless pictures of him. My lips feel the soft, warm skin of his forehead. The palms of my hands feel his cheeks, as if I was still holding them. But he is not here. Will never be here again. The tears are threatening to start falling again.
Crying. What does it help? Nothing. Yet it seems like I haven't been doing much else today. I really don't want to shed any more tears, but I can't stop them. At least now that I'm alone I don't have to pretend. I can finally let my guard down, I can let myself feel the full force of what has happened. I wrap my arms around myself in some futile attempt to protect what little of me there is left, close my eyes and lean my head back.
Nothing could have prepared me for hurt quite like this. Over and over again I thought that it could not possibly get any worse. I thought so as I left him in the café, as I spoke to Zainab and as I walked into that room to watch him get married. And still… there would always be something more… something adding to the pain. I am completely amazed that no one else seems to have noticed it, it must surely have been written all over my face. I know I felt it. All day.
I don't know what possessed me to meet him in the café to begin with. What was I thinking, I wonder. What good could ever come out of that? Did I really think that seeing me would somehow change his mind? Hah, I must be even more stupid than I already knew I was. He told me, time and time again, that this was how it was going to end. Why didn't I listen? Why didn't I just run away when I had the chance? What on earth made me first come back from Barcelona and then go there and rub my own face in it today? What? I know what. Love. Simple as that, really.
As I'm sitting here in the dark, I can recall the moment when he did say it… 'I'm gay… and I love you' and I heard the honesty in his voice… And I didn't push him this time, I didn't, he said it himself… I know he meant it… and yet it can't be enough… I can't be enough. When that realization hit me, it hurt so much that I couldn't help shouting at him, asking him why the hell he came there anyway. And then he told me. 'Because I missed you. Because I wanted to see you. Because I hoped you might say it's all OK…' If I only listen I can still hear the plea in his voice. Hearing it hurts every bit as much right now. But I couldn't say it, I couldn't pretend and I told him so. It was never going to be OK again.
When I came to the hotel for the wedding ceremony I thought I wanted to stop it. A part of me wanted everyone to know, wanted to shout the truth out to them like I did to Zainab earlier, wanted this to be recognized for what it was. Is. Love. I don't think I've loved him more than when I stepped into that room and saw him there, with her. Love for him filled my entire being in a fraction of a second. So naturally I couldn't do it, just couldn't. Of course it had to be his choice, his decision. I vaguely remember my knees almost giving in when I realized I'd have to see him go through with it. I am honestly surprised that I survived that. My first instinct was to make a run for it afterwards, to flee, but… everything just seemed to gang up on me and I couldn't get out. Masood came just as I was leaving, all smiles on the wedding day of his eldest son, dragging me back inside to the reception, amazingly not seeing the truth in my eyes… And Peter with the gift, making me walk up to them… And then Zainab came to shove me out… In the end it was Jane that saved me. When she came after me I thought she was going to scold me, like I probably deserve to be scolded in her eyes. But she just put her arms around me, and for a little while I remembered how you breathe again.
Then he came to see me… just as I was about to finally get out of there. Making his attempt of a little almost joke while looking at me with those huge eyes, scared, brimming with tears. Letting me see everything he felt shining through in that adored face once more, letting me hear his voice. Looking and sounding so fragile. If I had ever thought that it was not going to be just as difficult for him as for me, that taught me the truth. The truth of his pain. Then I knew for sure it couldn't get any worse, and that thought made something click inside me. Suddenly there was no hesitation, I knew what he needed. I have no idea where I got the strength to do it, to say it. To say the words that mean goodbye. That mean letting go. But I did. I found it somewhere and I told him it would all be OK and kissed him for the last time. It was all I could do for him and I did it.
Right now, however, I have no strength left what so ever, still slumped down on the floor of my hallway, eyes closed to the darkness surrounding me, still in my suit, arms wrapped around me like my life depended on it.
I don't want anyone to see this. No one can do anything for me now. Jane did what she could, and besides her, Lucy is the only one who knows and there is no way I could put all of this on her. This is my burden to carry, and mine alone.
There is Zainab of course. She knows now, knows because of me, because I said it. Because I screwed up. My usual style, I think bitterly. I hardly remember what I said to her, except that I blurted out the truth. I remember her words though. Every single one of them, and there were plenty. In the end I couldn't take it anymore, couldn't hear her saying one more word about the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. I know I shouldn't have said anything, really, really shouldn't, but I literally could not stop myself. 'Perverted obsession.' 'It makes me feel sick!' 'People like you!' 'Predatory…' 'Love? You don't know the meaning of the word!'…
I guess everybody has a breaking point, and this was mine. It was just too much. I wonder what happened after I told him she knew? What did he say to her? Convinced her it was a lie most likely, but I have no idea. I don't know if she believed him, I could spot the fakeness in the smiles on her face, feel the daggers her eyes shot at me. If I had any illusions left, illusions of some kind of happy ending, they are clearly shattered now.
As everything is shattered. Absolutely everything. Everything except what I feel for him. That feeling is more whole than it has ever been. Because it is love. I know it is. What else could possibly hurt like this? I smirk through the tears now flowing freely from my eyes. Congratulations, Christian, welcome to the world of love, isn't it fabulous? But I know I did the right thing, it was the only thing I could do. How I am going to survive this love-thing is another question entirely. I manage to roll my eyes a little and smirk again. Always the drama queen, me.
Tomorrow, I think to myself. Tomorrow I'll do it, then I'll do what I have to. In the back of my mind a plan is taking form. For tomorrow. Tonight I'll let myself cry.
Breathe in. Breathe out. You can do it.
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Thank you for bearing with me thus far!
Should I continue this? Would you like to know more? Let me know! Love those reviews and comments! / xxx