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“I love you.” Jimmy murmured softly into his arm as he leaned on the table in front of him. The warm breath felt like a humongous weight, baring him thin and leaving a scorching burn that only Grian could’ve been capable of making in the form of adoration. He had decided that the only part of him Grian was allowed to see was his eyes, as Jimmy knew he could never control the quiver in his lips whenever he thought of what they used to be.
It had been so incredibly sweet, so nurturing and innocent.
Jimmy didn’t really know what had happened. Suddenly Grian became distant; always looking like he was somewhere else entirely.
It made him think about what he couldn’t be. How could it have been better?
Flashes of them laughing by their friends' bonfire, sharing small kisses over toasted marshmallows; hearing Joel snort and tell them to get a room. When did it change? When did he start noticing how much time he’d begun to spend with Gem?
She never said anything to Jimmy about it. When he asked her, she’d looked at him with such a sad expression that something would form within him. It rooted deep in his insecurities, cracking the happy, cheerful exterior he was used to. Jimmy, unknowingly, became distant just like Grian had. It hurt even more because it was only him that Grian refused to talk to.
They had become strangers to each other.
One last ditch attempt to get something from anyone was through Gem. His friends had watched his decline from afar, observing but never quite having the guts to ask about it.
She’d told him, “I’m sorry, Jim… But it’s not something for me to tell you. Grian has to do that.”
His begging, pleading for help had been for nothing in the end.
Across the cold, marble slab, Grian sat staring down at him with an expression Jimmy had grown quite used to over the year. Pure, unfiltered sadness.
“I love you, too, Jim.”
The unmoving figure in front of him suddenly leaned forward over the cold counter, head nuzzling Jimmy’s blonde hair. He sniffed softly, then pressed a light, scorching kiss against Jimmy’s bare forehead.
“I’m sorry, lovely.”
That name was something Grian had picked up after seeing Jimmy just.. being himself. He’d begrudgingly called him sweet, eventually picking up the name lovely. He didn’t say it often, but when he did, Jimmy’s heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.
He missed him.
“Why can’t you stay?” Jimmy asked, once again into the skin of his arm.
Grian sighed softly. “Jim, look at me.”
Slowly, Jimmy lifted his head to meet Grian’s gaze.
“You’ve always been so, so beautiful, and I love you.” He mumbled, reaching a hand forward to cradle Jim’s pink cheeks. “But you can’t keep doing this.”
No.
“I’m not real. I died.”
No.
“You had an amazing funeral for me, where you danced, sang with Joel and Lizzie. Oli held you as you both lived in the silence. Everyone was there, Jim. They’ve all moved on.”
It was true. Most had learned to live with the grief.
“I only pulled away because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to face you.”
The aching lump in his throat that had been building for so, so long, finally burst. Tears began streaming down Jimmy’s face, and he missed the warmth that Grian had always carried.
“I miss you.”
The sad smile etched itself back on Grian’s face, and he leaned forward once more, pressing one final kiss on Jimmy’s nose.
“Live your life, lovely. I’ll be waiting.”
Jimmy closed his eyes once more, savouring the sweet symphony of Grian’s voice.
When he finally opened them again,
Grian was gone.
He’d never been there.
Jimmy slowly sat back down, and tucked his head into the crook of his arm.
“I love you,” he murmured.
In the still air, a voice came. “I love you too, Jim.”
And then he felt a hand.
One more time.