by M.J. Swayer
Two guys, one moment in time. Make up the rest, let the story talk to you.
|Milan sat on the edge of the bed, face pointed to the world outside of the window. Theo could see the tears trailing down Milan's cheecks, precariously hanging on the cliff of his chiseled chin, then faling with a twinkle unto his lap. They were silent tears. Tears of deep sorrow, a sorrow he had a part in.
He did not know whether to comfort him or remain awkwardly standing there pretending he didn't exist. The former tugged at him, but the unknowing of what the end result would be kept the thought at bay.
"Why?" Whispered Milan, "Why?"
This made Theo's eyes blurr and his heart clench in a knot. He hurried to the door, opened it and ran without looking back. It took three flights of stairs for the truth to sink in. He took one more step and fell, his back to the wall. Now it was his turn to let the tears run. When his eyes were dried he got up and walked slowly back. He opened the door, walked to Milan's bed and sat next to him. Silenced surrounded them both. A welcomed silence. An understandable one. A few moments passed before Theo reached his hand over and engulfed Milan's.
Fresh tears gathered to adventure down both pairs of cheecks. Cheecks that now held the hints of a smile.