"There's no guarantee for anything once you've stepped out of your comfort zone," I say as I turned my gaze outside Alfred's open window, admiring the midnight sky. "And you can't just come crawling back to Mummy and Daddy to ask for money."
Alfred flashes a bitter smile from his bed and has a slow drag of his cigarette.
There has always been this gap between us – he stands there on the other side of this fragmented spectrum, and I opposite him, as we take turns building bridges to reach one another.
But to me it seems that he always manages to find ways to widen the gap – consciously or unconsciously, I don't know – leaving us into our tireless and never-ending chase.
Twenty months down the road and where are we heading to?
"The university is our only common ground," I continue. "I'll be finishing soon while you still have two years. What's next?"
Alfred sighs, emitting a strong cloud of smoke. "That's why I thought about it," he says, reminding me of the declined choice he presented to me a few days back.
I shake my head with a grimace. "I don't think you're ready for that, Al."
For someone who has been pampered all his life and who doesn't see any importance in education, I don't think he's ready for what he's asking from me.
We never pass the campus grounds without everyone's eyes on us. Everyone loves to talk about this odd couple who walks around the university while their hands intertwined: the late transfer city boy from Detroit, Alfred Jones, and the ex-model Arthur Kirkland – a little too old for university, a little too young to take root of his own life.
Like I said, it's only in university that Alfred and I stand on common grounds. After we leave it will be another story.
"You don't know what you're asking for, Alfred." I say as I scan the faintly-lit room for electric blue eyes. "This isn't a child's play. This is real life, not some game you can reset once you've made a mistake."
Sure, life is all trial and error but once a mistake is done, you'll have to deal with the consequences.
But what does he know about life? He's merely a child who has the entire world ahead of him. It's as if I'm forcing an immature fruit to ripen in a snap of my fingers.
"What will you do if one morning you just wake up on the streets?"
He looks at me as I break the loud silence.
"I don't think you'll enjoy that. I've been there once," I say. "And it's something I never want to go through again."
He reaches for the ashtray on his nightstand and stubs the smoke.
"I'm not that stupid," he says softly, blue gaze averted. "Arthur, I know what I'm getting myself into, what I'm getting you into... I know how you feel; I'm just as nervous as you are but I want this. I know your needs and I will put them first before mine, like I always did."
Point taken.
He always tries, he does, and that's something I can never hold against him.
I remain seated against his window, observing the sky and the sleeping city outside. All I want is to share the same horizon with him and I know he wishes the same, but I'm afraid his sun will never shine until mine sets.
Through the glass of the open window, I see a reflection of myself sitting on the bed, fiddling with a stick of unlit cigarette between his fingers as he weighs up his lover's sudden musings.
Alfred is my reflection. He's exactly what I used to be when I was his age. A decade ago, regrettably. He's the boy who relentlessly experiments with life, tramping on seemingly endless journeys to discover himself.
I know what's on his mind and what it feels like to be so in madly love and be out there at the same time because I've been through all of that and more.
It haunts me all the time that what if one day, Alfred suddenly comes into realization that he has a whole lot more to do other than knotting himself with someone a decade older than him?
Maybe I'm just paranoid, but then again it doesn't hurt being realistic.
"I don't want anyone blaming me for robbing your cradle," I finally say. "Not society, not your friends, not your family, not anyone. Especially not you."
Startled, Alfred opens his mouth to defend himself but I go on.
"I don't want you waking up one morning and telling me you are tired of it all and you just want to be out there on your own and do whatever you want because you realized that you're young and you can have the world in the palm of your hands."
While it keeps him silent, I add, "How can you reassure me that it's not only words I'm holding on to?"
Love is unquestionable; yes it's there. But there is more to life than love, isn't it true?
He then looks at me, defiant, assuming I was finish. "But how can you give up so easily without giving me the chance to prove myself?"
The view outside suddenly appears more serene, more appealing and I let it steal my attention away from Alfred.
"Is there… is there someone else?" He asks.
I chuckle at the inquiry.
"If we end right now, is there someone already waiting for you?"
I shake my head. "No, there isn't."
He falls back into the abyss of silence like the way he sinks back to his pillows, thinking about his next move. I sit opposite him, legs swinging idly.
"Look, Arthur, I'm trying to make this work," he says softly, lips quivering. "I want to make this work, you and me."
The sound of his cracking voice takes my attention back to him but I keep my lips pursed tight, my body unmoving.
Alfred takes a lungful of air and asks me, "W-what do you want me to do?" He curses as tears begin to stream down his cheeks.
"Please tell me..."
I remain perfectly still, a good distance across him, fingers drumming against my lips. I just can't make myself look into those brimming eyes.
He curses again, this time with a knuckle connecting against the wall. "Dammit, Arthur! If I can only grow older and turn thirty or how old you want me to be at this instant, then by all means I will!"
He whimpers and covers his face with frustrated hands. "I'm trying… I'm trying! I'm doing everything I can to make this work… I hope you know that!"
At that moment, Alfred is just the scared little boy that I expect him to be. Scared of the unknown, scared of being left alone, scared of losing someone he loves so dearly.
After twenty months having spent together, this isn't the first time I decided to leave but he never cried, not until now.
The last word has always been with me. And he knows. Of course he does. Alfred knows that this time, Arthur is serious. This time, Alfred can lose Arthur and never have him back.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This is just a drabble and I don't even know where this is going but I figured I should somehow increase my presence here at FF so I posted it anyway (I know, I know. I should be updating Paint me to life). ^_^"
The idea came around after a very close friend of mine confided about her slightly dwindling relationship and while she was recounting their predicaments (age gap, future plans, contradicting goals, etc.), I could see both Alfred and Arthur being in the same situation.
Anyhow, thank you for reading and feel free to tell me what you think!
You can also find me and my other nonsensical drabbles at prussium. tumblr. com
Bye~