I lay on my back, the back of the couch looming over my left side, my earbuds firmly in my years. It's a song I've listened to dozens of times, one I don't think I'll ever get completely tired of. It's the feeling it gives me that I always come back to it for.
A hopefully melancholy catharsis, the subtle art of allowing yourself to be angry, indignant, hurt. I used to cry every time I heard this song, but in the last couple of months, every time I listen, it doesn't make me sob like it used to.
I feel a nudge to my foot, and pull out an earbud.
"Yeah?"
"Whatcha listening to?"
I offer him an earbud, and he flops out of his armchair and crawls over, dragging himself onto the couch as I sit up. After a few seconds, he takes the earbud and puts it in.
"Okay, play it."
I press the play button. The music fills my left ear, all at once swelling and booming, reverent and insignificant. I smile.
The lyrics are ones that I always understood but never truly resonated with. I never believed in forgiveness for forgiveness's sake, some higher moral obligation to let go of the pain that others have inflicted or will inflict on you. I never believed that it was better to forgive someone who'd never apologized, and I don't think I'll be changing my mind anytime soon.
After a minute, I realize that Arthur has taken out his earbud and is hugging his knees. I pause it again, taking out my earbud, and setting my phone aside.
"What's wrong?"
He shakes his head. I slide my arm around his back and one around the front of his knees, resting my cheek against the top of his head.
"I dunno," he mutters. "That's just a really sad song and it makes me really sad."
I stifle my grin, nodding. "It is kinda sad. Do you wanna listen to something else?"
He sobs, dropping his knees and pushing further into my chest, hugging me back. I feel an unwelcome ache in my ribs, drifting up into my throat.
Longing.
I hold him tighter, and he shakes, and I hate it. I hate the anguish in his sobs. I rub his back, nuzzling my face into the top of his head. It's agony, not being able to take the pain away, especially not knowing what the pain is.
He says something, but it's lost in the sobbing, so I just nod and rub up and down his spine. He grips my sides, pinching my flesh along with my shirt, but I don't say anything.
"I-" He hiccups. "I.. c-can't."
"Can't what?"
He shakes his head, hard. "I can't do it anymore," he says, through gritted teeth.
"Arthur," I breathe, reaching down to my sides and taking his hands away before he leaves marks. "You have to talk to me before I can make anything better."
"You can't make it better!" He shouts, standing up. "You always try to make everything better!"
"I don't..." I pause. "I don't understand."
"Just... Stop. Stop being so... You."
"I-I'm sorry." Ow.
"No, I didn't-" He starts, hastily. I don't really want to hear it.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... do anything. I didn't realize."
"Aedin, please, let me just-" He says, and I cut him off again.
"No, no, it's okay. It's okay," I mutter, picking up my phone. Ouch. Ow, ow, ow. That hurt a lot more than it should've.
"I didn't mean it like that..."
"I know."
"I just-"
"It's okay."
Fucking got my hopes up. But the Bad Thing always comes, and it's almost always my own fault. I ruin good things. Never on purpose, it's just what I do.
He chokes out a mangled version of my name as I stand up, and gently grabs the edge of my shirt as I awkwardly slip past him, going up to my room to lick my wounds.
My bed is waiting for me and waits a little longer as I change into pajamas and plug in my phone before sliding under the covers. I nuzzle my head into a pillow and put the other on top. It isn't long before I drift off to sleep, still thinking about Arthur's strange behavior, and what he said.
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I wake up to the sound of knuckles rapping on my bedroom door and roll over, kicking off the blankets and tossing the pillow onto the floor on the other side of the bed, sitting up and swinging my legs off the side.
I pull open the door just as he starts knocking again, interrupting him.
"Aedin..."
"Arthur...?"
"I'm really sorry," he admits. "I don't want you to stop being you."
I find myself smiling slightly. "Okay?"
"You're... kind, and charming, and a good listener, and... you're perfect, in every way I could think of," he mutters, his voice slowly getting more mumbly. "And..."
I frown. "I forgive you, Arthur. You don't have to keep going with this."
"It's not about that," he breathes, sounding small and stressed.
My hands twitch but I force them to stay at my sides. "Then what's it about?"
"I... can't keep pretending," he starts, "That I just wanna be roommates, or just friends, with you. I think I'll die if you pull away from hugging me one more time."
"If you wanted me to..."
"No. This isn't about-... Aedin, I know that this is probably going to destroy our friendship."
"Nothing could possibly-"
"You don't know that."
"But I know that I've-"
"I love you."