#i need to think about when to start cooking... its only 1pm so not anytime soon but. to keep it in mind

[humanmorph]

i love/hate having a "oh thats so good!!! ...but sounds extremely annoying to do" type of idea

[womenstan]

I See You When You Run From The Light (within your eyes) - Chapter 3

Ao3 Title : The end of the line Chapter :

When he woke up, the first thing Robbe felt was warmth. It was all-enveloping, seeping through his every muscle. He felt so relaxed and at peace that he found himself wishing he’d never have to get out of bed. Just lay there forever wrapped up in the covers that were hugging him close. He snuggled a little deeper, trying to get a hold of the covers to bring them closer to his body, only to lay his hand on something far too hard to be silk.

Robbe’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as he tried patting the surface, trying to understand what was thrown over his stomach, but feeling far too lazy to open up his eyes and be attacked by the sun rays.

“Why are you feeling up my arm?” A voice chuckled, deep, next to his ear.

Robbe startled, opening both his eyes at once, only to lay his eyes on the blonde body next to him. Sander, of course . He’d forgotten they’d both gone back to his place after the party last night, Sander insisting until Robbe caved under his adorable mimics.

Laughing, Robbe switched to softly caressing Sander’s arms, making him smile softly. “Royal secret. If I told you, they’d have to kill you.” He said, trying to sound serious, but ending up barely containing his laughter.

Sander snorted, playing along. “They? Do you have body guards then?”

“Oh yes, only the best ones in the whole country. From the King’s own personal army!”

Sander smirked, in that way that told you he was about to crack a joke he was particularly proud of. He lifted his hand up, bringing it on Robbe’s biceps, “Good, there’s no way you’d be able to defend yourself with such small arms anyways.”

Robbe scoffed indignantly, swatting Sander’s hand away. “Me? Small arms? I’ll show you small arms”, Robbe said, before launching himself on top of Sander, trying to immobilize him. Sander laughed, pushing back. They kept pushing at each other for a while until Robbe decided to show off a little.

In one swift motion, he got one leg over Sander’s hips, effectively straddling him and preventing him from moving away. Sander let out a small gasp of surprise and Robbe used that momentary confusion as an opportunity to grab both his wrists and pin them down to the mattress.

Chest heaving, Robbe smiled, lowering himself over Sander, pressing his arms further into the covers. Sander was panting too, even more so than Robbe was.

“Still think I’m too weak to defend myself?” Robbe teased, proudly.

While Robbe had been expecting more teasing, Sander’s face softened and he relaxed his body under Robbe’s. “I think you’re perfect.”

The fondness in Sander’s voice took Robbe by surprise and, for a moment, he wasn’t sure how to respond. If it’d been anyone else… but it wasn’t. This was Sander and he was like this, always affectionate and saying things like this without realizing what they sounded like.

So, Robbe laughed, brushing the remark aside with a soft ‘idiot’, which only made Sander’s smile widden. He rolled off of him, laying back on the bed and sighing deeply.

“I don’t want to get up, like, ever.” Turning his head towards Sander, he added, “Can we just stay here forever?”

Much to Robbe’s confusion, Sander shook his head. “No way”

Getting up on one elbow and turning his whole body towards Sander, Robbe asked, “What? Why not?”

Sander didn’t answer at first, throwing his feet off the bed and onto the floor. He got up and turned towards Robbe expectantly.  When he didn’t hear any sound coming from Robbe, Sander threw his hands up in exasperation, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“ Because , Robin, I’m going to make you the best breakfast you’ve ever had”

Robbe hesitated, chuckling slightly in case it’d been a joke, but Sander seemed dead serious, extending an arm towards Robbe.

“Allez, come”

Robbe sighed, putting his hand in Sander’s and letting himself be tugged up. “Sander…”

Robbe’s whining didn’t deter Sander however, as he led them to the kitchen.

“Ok, get me a pan, some bread and, hm… Ah! Cheese” Sander said, dropping Robbe’s hand in favour of feeling around on the counter to find the stove.

Robbe squinted his eyes at him, slightly worried this wasn’t going to end well. “Sander… Can you even… Like, since you can’t…?”

Sander turned towards Robbe. “Since I can’t see? I’m twenty years old, Robbe, I’ve used a stove before. Don’t worry, just get me the ingredients, you’ll see.”

Still uncertain, Robbe walked slowly towards the cabinets, bringing one over to Sander.

“Ok, I’m going to trust you Sander, but if you burn down the apartment, I’m telling Milan it was your fault” Robbe added, only half-jokingly.

Sander waved him off, before starting the stove.

After a while, Robbe caught onto what Sander was making him.

“Croques? Really? Is that even breakfast food?”

Sander tutted him disapprovingly. “Robbe, everything can be breakfast food if you eat it at breakfast.”

“I don’t think that’s how this works Sander, but whatever you say…” Robbe teased, sitting up on the counter next to where Sander was cooking.

Sander sighed, reaching for a knife and cutting the first croque in half. He took it in his left hand, reaching it out to Robbe. “Stop complaining and try this”

“I’m not even com-” Robbe began, before being interrupted by Sander quite literally shoving the croque into his mouth. He made a noise of complaint, but bit into it anyway, determined to scold Sander immediately after.

Only, as soon as he began to chew, Robbe felt his taste buds explode with joy. The flavour was perfect, the crispiness impeccable, every single bite into the food felt like a whole experience of its own. Robbe couldn’t help but let out a very satisfied hum, making Sander’s face beam with pride.

“Good, right?” He said, clearly already aware of the answer.

Robbe finished swallowing his bite before he answered, sounding bewildered. “Good? Sander, I’m convinced this is the best croque ever made”

Sander blushed a little under the compliment, dipping his head downwards. “I mean, I told you I wasn’t going to fuck this up”

Robbe smiled, extending his arm to ruffle Sander’s hair fondly. “I know, I’m sorry for doubting you. My mind is truly blown right now. I’m going to force you to come over every day to make me breakfast from now on”

Sander only raised his head, softly letting out a “Anytime”.

----------------------------------------

The rest of his weekend passed by in a happy blur, his time spent between joking around with Sander and catching up on his homework. But, as all things do, monday eventually came around the corner, and with it came university.

In all fairness, this time, something else was exceeding his dread of having to go to class: the thought of seeing Noor.

She’d been texting him all weekend, but he’d managed to ignore her easily enough by staying busy. In school though, it would be a lot harder to avoid her.

The worst thing was that he knew he’d promised Sander he would break up with Noor. And it made sense: all they did lately was argue and get mad at each other. So, the problem wasn’t that Robbe didn’t think they should break up, but rather that he would do literally anything to avoid confrontation.

He hated it more than anything else. He didn’t want to hurt Noor, although he supposed ignoring all of her messages and calls was probably also hurting her. If he’d listen to himself, he would simply fire her a breakup text to get it over with, but he wasn’t that shitty.

So, while he was trying to gather the courage to walk up to her and get this over with, his plan was to avoid seeing her at all cost. The good thing about them being together for a while was that he pretty much knew her schedule by now, so he could try to take alternate paths to his classes or hang-out in different spots during his breaks.

It wasn’t exactly convenient, but it wouldn’t be for long anyway. Robbe was going to break up with Noor soon enough and then everything would go back to usual. Or, well, almost everything.

At least, that’s what he told himself Monday, as he had to take a five minutes long detour to get to his first class just so he wouldn’t run into Noor, who had a class next to him.

Coincidentally, it’s also what he told himself Tuesday. He was going to hang out with the guys in the cafeteria for lunch, as they had a common break. Only, as he’d made his way towards the cafeteria, he’d seen Noor exiting the girl’s bathroom and walking in the same direction. He’d quickly fired a text to the boys with a dumb excuse about having forgotten a textbook at home and ran the other way. He ate outside.

On Wednesday, Robbe had been determined to do it. He’d even drafted a little ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech the night before. So, he was ready, right? Except, he’d barely made two steps in Noor’s direction before he was stopped by Yasmina who needed him now , and ‘ no, Robbe, it can’t wait ’.

Turns out one of her friends was into Aaron - which, really? Aaron? - and they needed Robbe to subtly figure out if Aaron could be interested too.

“Yasmina, it’s Aaron . As long as she’s got two eyes and a heartbeat, I’m pretty sure he’ll be up for it.” Robbe sighed, trying not to appear as aggravated as he was. Seriously, did she need to have such a shit timing?

That led him to Thursday, at which point Robbe was almost convinced the universe was against this break up. He’d waited for her before his first class, but to no avail, as she didn’t even show up.

They had one break in common that day, around 1pm, but Thursday afternoons were reserved to hang out with Sander, and Robbe was not about to cancel on him just so he could break up with Noor. So, Robbe decided it would have to wait until friday, as he threw his bag over his shoulder and made his way towards the library where he knew Sander was waiting.

Robbe stopped at the tiny student coffee shop on his campus, ordering for both Sander and him. While he waited in line, he quickly shot Sander a text message to let him know he was done with his class and on his way to him, smiling dumbly at Sander’s answering ‘:D’.

He’d been so busy between school, first trying to avoid Noor, and then trying to find her, that he’d barely had time to text Sander since the weekend, let alone see him. He was glad they could still honour their Thursday tradition, just the two of them hanging out without having to worry about anything - or anyone - else.

The barista handed Robbe the two cups and Robbe hurried to the table where he knew Sander would already be sitting, all of his books and material spread over the table. Sander would probably be hunched over some paper, drawing, that concentrated look on his face. He would slightly stick his tongue out, sitting in between his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed and his hair falling in front of his face. Robbe had to admit it was quite the sight.

At first, Robbe had wondered how Sander could be an artist, seeing as he was blind. He’d always just assumed blind people had no way to draw, since they couldn’t see the paper, the colours or the drawing itself. Sander had simply snorted at that, before patiently explaining his method to Robbe.

He used mostly textured art, like pastel or paint. He’d draw with one hand, alternating between tracing the surface of whatever he wanted drawn and the surface of the paper with the other one. Robbe’s curiosity had pushed him to ask for a demonstration, and Sander had gladly obliged.

It was a fascinating process, and the respect and appreciation Robbe already had for Sander’s talent grew tenfold in the space of a single drawing. He’d just looked at Sander, moving seamlessly across the paper and found himself speechless. The only thought that came to him was that Sander was clearly in his element, that he belonged to the arts.

Still now, every time he’d had the privilege of catching Sander drawing, he’d been overwhelmed with this feeling of pride and warmth, watching entire worlds take form on the blank pages under Sander’s touch.

Sometimes, Robbe found himself thinking that Sander had the ability to make everything he touched turn into art. From the dull beige paper cup of coffee that could rival Albert Anker’s Coffee Drinking once it was held in between Sander’s fingers, to Robbe’s own pale skin that shined bright pink under Sander’s soft strokes.

Or the way he was stroking his hand through his hair right as Robbe walked up to him, pulling it back off of his forehead. That was true art.

Robbe shook the thought out of his head as he scraped back the chair next to Sander and sat down, slowly pushing Sander’s coffee to his hand.

“Robin! Finally!” Sander exclaimed enthusiastically, making Robbe chuckle.

“Missed me?” Robbe teased, taking a sip of his own coffee.

“Obviously,” Sander answered, sending him a beaming smile

Robbe laughed, getting his books out of his bag and carefully placing them next to Sander’s stuff on the table.

“What are you drawing?” He asked Sander, trying to peek into his open sketchbook.

Sander smirked, closing his sketchbook before Robbe could properly distinguish the shapes.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, huh?” He teased, making Robbe drop his head to the side in fond exasperation.

“Yes,” Robbe sighed, “I would like to.” He tried to sound annoyed, but he couldn’t help the smile slowly etching its way up his face.

“How badly?” Sander asked, his growing smile indicating he had a joke ready to go.

Robbe rolled his eyes, sighing loudly. “As bad as-”

“Robbe fucking Izjermans!”

Oh . Oh no .

Robbe whipped his head towards the voice, while Sander visibly startled on his chair, dropping his smile instantly.

Robbe mentally groaned when he saw he’d been right about who this voice belonged to. From the library’s entrance, Noor was storming his way, a visible scowl on her face.

Why was it that when Robbe was trying to find her, she was nowhere to be found, but as soon as he’d wanted a moment of peace, she suddenly showed up? What had Robbe done to get such bad karma?

“Noor,” Robbe sighed, “What are you doing here?”

Noor raised an eyebrow, coming to a halt in front of Robbe, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“What do you think I’m doing here? You’ve been ignoring all of my texts and I couldn’t find you anywhere!” Noor half-screamed, earning them a few dirty looks from nearby students.

Before Robbe could answer, Sander scoffed loudly.

“What? You got a problem?” Noor asked him, clearly offended by his reaction.

Sander sighed, bracing himself on the table as he got up to properly face Noor.

“Look, I get that you’re pissed, but Robbe dumped you. He doesn’t owe you anything.” Sander said, keeping his voice levelled, although Robbe could hear the hidden layer of frustration.

It took Robbe’s brain a few seconds to properly realize what Sander had just said, and when he did, it was already too late.

Noor made a surprised noise in the back of her throat, halfway through anger and disbelief.

“Dumped me? What the hell are you talking about?” Noor said, chuckling humourlessly. “Don’t mistake your dreams for reality, Anders.”

Robbe stood up at once, feeling all the blood drain from his face.

“Noor, come on, let’s talk in private.”

Robbe made a move to step towards Noor, but Sander’s arm shot up in front of him, barely missing his face by a few centimeters.

“Robbe didn’t break up with you?” Sander asked, turned in the general direction Noor was in.

Robbe didn’t know what hurt more, the anger in Sander’s voice or the look of pure disappointment on his face.

“Sander, look,” Robbe began, desperately trying to diffuse the whole situation.

Noor’s laugh cut him off, loud and obnoxious, clearly meant to irritate Sander. It seemed to work wonders, as Sander’s jaw clenched in response.

“I don’t know what kind of fucked up fantasies you’ve got going on in your head, Sander, but this is the real world. I guess you might be too crazy to understand what that is.” Noor spit out.

The words hit Sander the same way a punch would have. He stumbled a little backwards, dropping his arm. He turned around, hastily threw all of his stuff inside his bag in a jumble, picked his bag up and walked away without a word.

“Sander!” Robbe yelled, cringing at the desperation he could hear in his own voice. “Sander, wait!”

Robbe started putting his papers back into his own bag, determined to run after Sander, but Noor’s fingers settled around his arm, pulling him back softly.

“Come on, Robbe. Let him be, he’s not good for you anyway.” Noor said, smiling as if Robbe’s world wasn’t falling apart in front of him.

Robbe gave a sharp tug on his arm, freeing himself from Noor’s hold. He shook his head at her, feeling rage boiling up inside of him and threatening to overflow.

“You know what, Noor? We’re through. Over, done, finished!” Robbe yelled, too angry to find it in himself to care that the entire library was witness to their spectacle.

Robbe threw his bag over his shoulder and stormed towards the entrance, where Sander’s back had disappeared barely a few seconds ago.

“What the fuck, Robbe? Do you not love me anymore?” Noor asked, her voice high-pitched and frail.

Robbe sighed, turning back around to face her one last time.

“You’re cruel, Noor. You’re just cruel.” He said, voice tired.

He didn’t wait around to hear her try to convince him he was wrong and that Sander had somehow manipulated him, instead choosing to take off after Sander.

Robbe’s heart was beating so fast that he feared it might fly straight out of his chest. His mind was immediately going to the worst scenarios, telling him Sander would never forgive him, that it was over, that there was no point going after him... But Robbe knew better than that.

He knew that Sander was probably the best thing in his life right now and that he wasn’t going to let him walk away.

So, out he ran, the heavy library doors shutting behind him with a loud ‘thump’ .

Robbe looked around frantically, trying to spot a patch of blond hair in the sparse crowd of students, but to no avail. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging a little at the strands in frustration.

That’s when he heard a loud crash coming from the boys’ washroom, and something clicked inside his head. He ran towards the room, which warranted him a couple side-looks, but his attention was focused on one sole thing: getting to Sander.

Inside, there didn’t appear to be anyone. All the stalls seemed closed, and the general area was empty. As Robbe stepped further in, he heard a small sniffling sound that broke his heart at once.

He put his bag down against the wall and walked along the stalls, softly pushing the doors open. When he reached the third to last one of the row, the door didn’t open, locked from the inside.

Robbe sighed softly. “Sander?”

The sniffling stopped.

“Sander, please. I just want to explain.”

Nothing but silence.

Robbe leaned his forehead on the door with a small thud.

“I’m sorry, Sander. I really am. I… I should have told you,” Robbe began, unsuccessfully trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “I did mean to break up with her.”

A scof came from the stall, turning into a sob halfway through, and Robbe wondered if there was any piece of his heart left to shatter.

“Sander…” Robbe whispered, worry seeping through his tone. “I’m not lying. I spent the week looking for her too. I couldn’t do it over text, that’s just… I’m not an asshole. Or, trying not to be.” Robbe explains, “I broke up with her just now. What she said to you…” Letting out a frustrated sigh, Robbe shakes his head at the memory. “She’s so horrible. I’m so sorry Sander”

“Don’t be.” Sander’s voice came from the stall, muffled. “She’s right,” He laughed, but it was a bitter sound.

“Sander, no. She isn’t.” Robbe said, a little destabilized at Sander’s sudden lack of self-confidence.

He heard Sander breathe in deeply inside the stall, and Robbe prepared himself for the worst.

“I’m fucking crazy, Robbe, ok? I’m bipolar.” Sander yelled, but he didn’t sound angry. All Robbe could hear was pain, and fear. Just so much fear. “So, yeah, she’s right. She’s right and you should probably go before I fuck up your life too.”

The silence that hung between them after Sander’s declaration was heavy. Robbe felt suffocated under the weight, and he could only begin to try to imagine how Sander was feeling.

“Sander,” He said, keeping his voice low but firm. “Let me in.”

Time stood still as Robbe waited for Sander to make a decision. Seconds passed by, maybe even minutes, Robbe wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, forehead against the door.

Slowly, he stepped back, prepared to argue his way into the stall, when he heard the lock slide open. The door didn’t budge, but Robbe wasn’t mistaken. This was Sander’s way of letting him in, both literally and figuratively.

Robbe took a deep breath, slowly pushing the door open. Sander was leaning on the opposite wall, head hung low and turned away from Robbe, in an attempt to hide his distress.

Robbe slowly closed the door behind him, locking it, before turning back to Sander. The stall wasn’t big and with the two of them, the space was definitely cramped. Robbe took that to his advantage, merely raising his arms to be able to graze Sander’s shoulders.

Sander stiffened, but didn’t move away. Robbe took that as an encouragement and, little by little, wrapped his arms around Sander’s now-trembling form. As soon as Sander’s chest collided with Robbe’s, Robbe felt Sander’s entire body give up on him.

Sander hid his face in Robbe’s shoulder, body limp in Robbe’s arms. As for Robbe, he had one arm caressing Sander’s back in large, circular motions, while the other was stroking his hair softly. He could feel Sander shake through his sobs, but Robbe ignored the urge to make him stop crying.

Sander needed to let it out, and Robbe would be there for him, even if it killed him to see Sander suffering.

Robbe whispered a steady stream of ‘it’s ok’, ‘I’m here’ and ‘let it out’ into Sander’s ear, and slowly but surely, Sander relaxed against him and his sobbing subdued.

When Robbe felt like Sander had calmed back down, he took his chance.

“Sander, you’re not crazy.” Robbe started, making Sander snort humorlessly. “You’re not. Having bipolar doesn’t make you crazy, Sander. And it’s definitely not going to make me go away.”

Robbe tugged Sander back, just enough to look at him as he said, “You’re not some kind of monster, Sander, and you sure as hell aren’t ruining my life. You’re like, the best person in my life right now.”

Sander’s eyes glistened with tears that threatened to fall, but the corner of his lips lifted up a little at that.

“I don’t care what happened between you and Britt, and I care even less about what Noor thinks of you. I know you, and I know that you’re an amazing, caring and talented person that I want in my life for as long as you want to be.” Robbe said, all at once, like the words were spilling out of his mouth the same way Sander’s tears were spilling out of his eyes. Out of his control, filled to the brim with emotions, but, oh, so liberating.

Sander stayed silent, a thunderstorm of emotions hidden in the quiet. Robbe was suddenly glad Sander couldn’t see him, because he was pretty sure his face looked like an open book, and he wasn’t ready to confront what was written on it yet.

He didn’t know why exactly, couldn’t pinpoint what it was about this moment specifically, about Sander’s stare, but it felt like something had shifted between them. Like there would be a before this, and an after this.

Robbe smiled at Sander, stroking his hair one last time before unwrapping his arms from around him.

Sander laughed, wiping at his wet cheeks in embarrassment. “I can’t believe we had this conversation in the school’s bathroom.”

Robbe chuckled, shaking his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sander. I have all of my heart-to-hearts in school bathrooms!”

Sander raised an eyebrow, a teasing look on his face. “The empty paper toilet dispensers and the vague urine smells really do it for you, huh?”

Robbe tried to suppress his smile, keeping his tone serious. “Oh, yeah. Big time!”

Sander wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Robbe responded by giving him a light push on the arm. They made their way out of the washroom, while Robbe avoided the stares of curious students wondering what all the fuss had been about (and probably questioning the tear streaks on both of their faces…).

When they reached the front doors, Robbe hesitated a moment, holding Sander back with a hand to his forearm. Sander stopped, turning back in Robbe’s direction.

“Do you maybe wanna go hang out at my flat?” Robbe asked, cringing at how fast his heartbeat had gotten at the simple sentence. He never got anxious when he asked the boys to hang around, although he hadn’t done so in a long time. So, why was it that whenever he had to ask Sander to hang out, Robbe’s hands got clammy and his heartbeat increased tenfold?

Sander just snorted in response, which only served to make Robbe even more apprehensive.

“You scared me! Of course, I do.” Sander said, now smiling brightly at Robbe.

Robbe wanted to be a little mad at Sander making fun of his hesitation, but he couldn’t help but beam in response, a comfortable warmth settling in his stomach.

They walked to the flatshare, arms locked at the crook of their elbows (if anyone asked, Robbe would say it was to guide Sander, despite them both knowing that Sander didn’t actually need it).

It was a sunny day, and it would have been too warm for Sander’s leather jacket had there not been a chilly breeze flowing through the air. Robbe wasn’t much of a fan of warm days, but when he saw the way the sunlight hit Sander’s face, perfectly illuminating his side profile of a golden hue, he figured he’d like them a lot more from now on.

Robbe couldn’t make himself look away from Sander’s face, intoxicated by the way it looked under the daylight. From the curve of his nose, to the way his eyes glistened, everything about Sander’s face had Robbe in a trance-like state.

He did eventually turn away, after he’d stumbled over a crack in the pavement and Sander had made fun of him, asking ‘who’s the blind one, huh?’ Sander had only been teasing, but Robbe figured it might be smarter for them to have at least a pair of eyes on the road.

Once they reached the apartment, Robbe didn’t even have to unlock the door to know that everyone was home. The sounds of cheers and laughter came through the door and resonated all the way to the staircase, warming Robbe’s heart instantly.

He barely had time to open the door and usher Sander in, before he was attacked by a swarm of bodies.

“Milan, you’re kind of crushing me” Robbe croaked out, the strength of Milan’s hug pressing all of his internal organs together painfully.

Milan loosened his arms immediately and stepped back, an apologetic smile on his face.

“So, what? Robbe gets all the love and I get none?” Sander asked, with a small (irresistible) pouth.

“Sander! Of course you do, come here!” Milan exclaimed, practically jumping in Sander’s arms. Zoë followed suit immediately, eyeing Senne, who just shrugged before joining in. Robbe laughed, moving to take his shoes off before they could attack him again.

“Come on guys, don’t suffocate him to death!” Robbe said, which got him a snort from Sander in response.

“You’re just jealous Robin,” Sander said, winking. The group hug slowly dissolved, as Milan let out a ‘ooooh burn!’ that made Robbe shake his head, amused.

“Sure, I am. It’s not like I’ve hugged you a thousand times before already” Robbe teased, while everyone returned to whatever they were doing in the kitchen.

Sander bent down to untie his shoes, shaking his head. “See, that’s precisely it. I’ve got you addicted”

Robbe laughed, sending a small ‘you wished’ Sander’s way, seemingly unaffected, despite his heart that skipped a beat in fear at Sander’s words.

They navigated to Robbe’s room, where Sander immediately laid down on the bed in a star shape.

Robbe went to his desk and took his books out of his bag, while Sander groaned in the background.

“Sander? You ok there?” Robbe asked, stifling a laugh, his back to Sander.

Sander sighed, hard. “Yeah, but I hope you realize that I’m never leaving your bed again. I’ve melted into the mattress.”

Robbe threw him a glance, seeing Sander had somehow snaked his way under the cover.

“Suit yourself, just don’t steal all the blankets,” Robbe answered, to which Sander scoffed.

“I would never do that! I’ll have you know that I’m a perfect blanket gentleman.”

Robbe hummed, sitting down to start working on his essay. He was quickly bored though, and with Sander in his room, Robbe didn’t really feel like slaving away doing homework. He turned to face Sander, only to find him fast asleep, his mouth open and squished against the pillow.  

Robbe chuckled under his breath, getting up to take a closer look. Once he got within reach of Sander, he slowly caressed his hair. The gesture made Sander frown a little, before he buried himself closer to the pillow, sighing happily.

Robbe smiled fondly, before moving away and to the end of the bed. He still didn’t feel like working on his homework, so he grabbed his controller and decided to game until Sander woke up from his impromptu nap.

After his third loss in a row, Robbe threw his controller aside and figured he was too out of it to keep playing. Looking at his phone, he saw that Sander had been out for a little over thirty minutes, so Robbe figured he might as well join him.

Taking his hoodie off, he walked to the other side of the bed in his shirt and jeans. He laid down next to Sander, who had turned to face Robbe’s way at some point in the past half hour.

When he was awake, Sander’s face always transpired a panoply of emotions. Even his eyes would glisten, darken and light up in the span of a single conversation. Robbe had always thought that blind people’s eyes wouldn’t hold much emotions, but he was clearly wrong. There were more emotions in a single one of Sander’s pupils than there was in most people’s entire face.

Robbe was pretty sure that’s what made him so fascinated with Sander’s face (because, let’s admit it, he was absolutely obsessed with it). He’d read somewhere that eyes were the window to someone’s soul, and while he was more inclined to think it was pure bullshit at first, since he’d met Sander, he’d come to understand the meaning of those words.

Robbe brushed a strand of hair that had fallen over Sander’s face, softly, trying his best not to disturb Sander’s peaceful sleep. Robbe didn’t know how to describe the swelling that overtook his chest as he watched Sander’s body raise and fall with each breath he took. He’d never felt this before, this peaceful yet gut-wrenching feeling that was filling up his heart.

There were a lot of feelings that Robbe had never felt before he’d met Sander. He didn’t know what it was about Sander that provoked those strong, undecipherable feelings that swallowed Robbe whole, but… He would be lying if he said he hated them. Whatever was causing this, Robbe didn’t mind. He liked Sander and he liked feeling like this, giddy in a way alcohol could never provide, yet rested in a way no amount of sleep could bring about.

He rested his hand in between his body and Sander’s, laying his head down on the pillow. He could feel Sander’s hot breath hit his cheeks from how close they were laying, but it didn’t annoy him. On the contrary, it made Robbe feel safe, content even, as he slowly drifted in and off of sleep.

His state of semi-slumber was interrupted when he felt Sander stirring awake next to him. Sander’s hand stretched and fell down on Robbe’s chest, which made Sander startle.

“Robbe?” He asked, voice still full of sleep.

Robbe hummed in answer.

“What did I just hit?” Sander questioned, his eyebrows furrowing as he felt around Robbe’s chest for clues.

“Chest” Robbe answered, chuckling at the concentrated look on Sander’s face.

“Ahhhh, all good then. Sorry for that,” Sander said, giving Robbe’s chest one last apologetic pat before rising to sit up. Robbe followed.

“Hey, what time is it?” Sander asked, sounding a little stressed all of a sudden.

Robbe looked around for his phone, finding it near his desk. “Hmmm, just about four, why?”

Sander rose to his feet so fast that Robbe feared he might fall down when he started swaying. “Shit! I have to be back home by four thirty to babysit, I’m so sorry. I promised my mom and-”

Robbe interrupted Sander, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Sander, it’s chill. Don’t worry”

Sander nodded, but didn’t seem convinced, as he chewed on his lips. He mumbled something under his breath, too low for Robbe to hear.

“What?” Robbe prodded, curious.

Sander sighed, running a hand over his face. “I can’t believe I spent our time together sleeping. I’m so sorry, Robbe.”

Robbe sighed as well, but a little more tenderly. “Sander, I swear it’s fine. I slept too. Besides, we can always hang out tomorrow, once we’re done with classes, right?”

That suggestion seemed to enchant Sander, whose eyes immediately lit up. He snapped his fingers as if he’d just had an illumination, a smile spreading on his face.

"What? You look like you’ve just had a moment of genius.” Robbe teased.

“Even better! I’m going out with friends from uni tomorrow night.” Sander said, excitedly.

Robbe couldn’t help but feel his face fall at that. “Oh. Ok, I get it”

Sander shook his head. “No! No, you don’t. I meant to ask you this earlier, but forgot…” He took a breath, as if steeling himself. “Would you want to meet them? Tomorrow?”

Robbe was stunned into silence, staring at Sander, his mouth hanging open. Sander wanted to present him to his actual friends? He wanted to include Robbe in other parts of his life?

“How is that even a question? Of course I do!” Robbe said, getting just as excited about the idea as Sander.

“Yeah?” Sander added, his smile ever growing.

“Yes!” Robbe said, adding, “Since when do you even have other friends?”

Sander stuck his tongue out at Robbe. “Ha. Ha. Very funny, Robin.”

“Thank you, I think so too”

Sander grabbed his stuff after that, promising he’d send Robbe the address as soon as he’d be home. Robbe suggested walking Sander to the tram, but Sander declined, insisting he could get there on his own.

When Sander was gone, Robbe closed the door and leaned his back against it, slowly sliding to the floor. He was going to meet Sander’s actual friends. He was going to meet Sander’s actual friends! Fuck! Why had he accepted the invitation? This was such a bad idea, they were probably going to hate him and-

Groaning, Robbe lowered his head on his knees.

“Woah, there. Someone’s having a crisis,” Milan said, to which Robbe only grunted in answer.

“Come on, Robbe. What’s on your mind?” Milan asked, sitting down next to him.

“Sander invited me to meet his other university friends tomorrow night.” Robbe sighed.

Milan blinked at him, confused. “And?”

“And, I said yes!” Robbe half-screamed, exasperated by his own actions.

Milan chuckled, looking just as puzzled. “How is that a bad thing? It’s good that he wants you to meet them!”

Robbe groaned at Milan’s incomprehension. “They’re gonna hate me Milan! They’re probably all cool art kids and I’m…” He gestured vaguely towards himself, “not!”

Milan sighed, patting Robbe’s back sympathetically. “Come on, Robbe. You’re smart, interesting and super cute! There’s no way they won’t fall in love with you the second they see you.”

Robbe threw a glance Milan’s way, “Thanks Milan.”

Milan nodded, “Good luck! You’ll be great,” He said, getting up and walking away.

Robbe’s worries were far from gone, but he was glad that Milan thought so highly of him. If all else failed, he knew he’d always have the flatshare to fall back on. That was a constant Robbe was so grateful to have in his life, he didn’t think he could ever find words to express it properly.

------------------

The next day passed by so slowly that it felt painful. It’s like time had decided to mock him, by prolonging his suffering.

Robbe hadn’t registered a single word from his lectures, spending the hours looking back and forth at the clock, so much so that he feared he might end up with a torticollis by the end of the day. If the end of the day ever came, that is.

The second his last lecture of the afternoon was dismissed, Robbe had pounced on the door, practically running all the way back to his flat.

Sander had, as promised, texted him the address the night before. They were meeting at a local bar, nothing too fancy, but Robbe’s usual ‘jogging and sweater’ school attire would probably be too lowkey.

Robbe tried rummaging through his closet, throwing about half of it out before giving up.

“Milan! Milan!” He screamed, hoping Milan would be willing to help.

A second later, he popped his head into the room.

“You called for me?” He asked.

“Yes. Milan, can I please borrow something of yours for tonight? Everything I own is just… wrong” Robbe sighed, pleading Milan with his eyes.

Milan seemed to mull it over, before he threw the door wide open. “Of course you can! Come with, I’ll turn this pumpkin into a prince!”

Robbe laughed, following Milan around the house. “I’m pretty sure the pumpkin gets turned into a coach, not a prince.”

Milan stopped dead in his tracks, turning back to Robbe with a warning finger.

“Do you want my help or not?”

Robbe nodded vehemently.

“Then don’t question my Disney knowledge, Robbe! Flatmates rule #35!”

Robbe raised his hands in surrender, laughing, before Milan started back towards his own room, Robbe on his heels.

Milan did deliver on his promise, after all. Robbe was dressed in a nice long-sleeved shirt with fitted jeans, nothing too flashy, but classy enough to look like he’d put an effort into his outfit (which he, or rather Milan, had).

The bar wasn’t far from Robbe’s home, so he decided to simply walk there. He figured he could shake his nerves out on the way there, and, hopefully, be a little calmer once he’d reach his destination.

The breeze was nice, flowing through his curls. He had been smart enough to bring a jacket, in case the night grew colder as it got later. Despite the atmosphere and his precautions, Robbe couldn’t help the hammering of his heart against his ribcage. He felt even worse than he had that one time in second grade when he’d been called out in class to make a presentation about a book he’d never bothered to read.

Soon enough, he reached the bar, which seemed to be busy with customers. Robbe closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. He tried to tell himself that everything would go smoothly, that Sander’s friends would like him, and that he’d get out of this alive and with his pride intact. If the shaking in his hands was anything to go by, he wasn’t very good at convincing himself.

He sighed, shaking his hands out, before walking into the bar. A radio was playing in the background, just barely covering the noise of the chatter. Robbe walked a little further in, immediately spotting Sander in the corner, sitting at a table with three other people.

Robbe took another deep breath for good luck, and made his way to their table. All three pairs of (functional) eyes were staring at him as he walked, more curious than austere, which reassured Robbe a little.

A blonde guy was the first to signal Robbe’s arrival. “This must be the famous Robbe!”

“Yeah, hi!” Robbe said, nodding in everyone’s direction.

Sander’s whole body whipped towards Robbe when he spoke. “Robbe! You’re here! Sit, sit,”

Sander fumbled with the chair next to him, making space for Robbe to sit next to him. Robbe thanked him, sitting down, trying not to be too unsettled by the looks Sander’s friends kept throwing each other.

Sander’s right hand came to rest on Robbe’s left shoulder immediately.

“Did you find the place easily? I think it’s pretty close to your place, isn’t it?” Sander asked, with the same considerate tone he took every time he wanted to make sure Robbe was ok.

Robbe figured he could probably sense his nervousness. Hell, anyone in a five mile radius who took one look at him could probably tell he was shitting his pants.

“Yeah, it was fine, don’t worry Sander” Robbe answered, smiling.

Sander smiled as well, more to himself, but Robbe still caught it and it made him feel a little more at ease.

Only a little though, because the same boy from earlier decided to clear his throat at that moment, making both Robbe and Sander turn their head towards him abruptly.

He had both of his eyebrows raised, and a knowing smile floating on his face.

“Sooo, Robbe, what are you studying?”

The night went on pretty similarly. After the initial interrogation, Robbe stayed a bit more silent, observing how Sander interacted with his friends.

At some point, Robbe was listening to a drunken story from one of the girls, Marie, while tapping the fingers of his hand on the table. He hadn’t even noticed the nervous tic, before Sander’s hand came to rest on top of it. Robbe’s eyes were instantly drawn to their overlapping hands.

Sander squeezed once in reassurance, and it made Robbe smile. Even in social situations like these, Sander always had a way of knowing exactly how Robbe was feeling, and exactly how to make him feel better. Robbe squeezed back, before Sander slowly took his hand back.

The night wasn’t much different from Robbe and Sander’s regular nights, in that Sander acted exactly the same way he always had with Robbe. When something really funny made him laugh, he would softly knock his forehead on Robbe’s shoulder, hiding his face as he giggled. When he couldn’t remember where he’d placed his glass, he’d lightly tap Robbe’s hand with his own, a silent signal that Robbe had long learned, and Robbe would silently pass Sander’s glass over to him. And when Sander felt Robbe become too antsy, he’d place his hand on Robbe’s bouncing knee, tapping fingers or shaky hands.

Before knowing Sander, Robbe hadn’t been used to touchy people, but now that he was, he found Sander’s small, mindless gestures calming, in the same familiar way that your childhood beddings or your mama’s hugs appease you.

After a while, the blond guy, Max, sipped the last of his beer, knocking it back against the table.

“So, who wants what? This round’s on me!” Max said, already pushing to get up.

Sander stood up at once, surprising everyone at the table.

“No! I’ll go. It’s my turn with the tab, anyway.” Sander said, sounding sure of himself.

Robbe furrowed his eyebrows, but said nothing when he saw Max sit back down and cheer Sander on. Everyone passed their orders and Sander repeated them once before expertly making his way to the bartender.

“How does he navigate so well everywhere?” Robbe asked out loud, to no one particularly. Max probably assumed the question was directed to him, since he took it upon himself to answer.

“Oh, that? It’s like his little superpower. Bring him somewhere once or twice and he’ll know the place by heart.” Max said, earning a few chuckles from the girls and a curious glance from Robbe.

If Sander was so good with directions, then why did he always let Robbe guide him by the arm? Robbe had never really thought about the fact that Sander could seemingly perfectly get back home by himself, but required Robbe’s assistance in the flatshare or when they went out somewhere.

His thoughts were interrupted by Marie.

“Say, you two are pretty close, huh?” She asked, her smile telling Robbe that her question covered a hidden meaning.

“Yeah, sure, he’s a good friend.” Robbe shrugged, smiling politely.

Marie and the other girl, Anne, exchange an amused look.

“Yeah, I bet you must be really good friends,” Anne added, laughing.

Robbe’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“I don't get the joke” He said, a little annoyed.

Max sighed, like an exasperated parent. “Robbe, haven’t you noticed that Sander is a little…” He looked towards Marie, “touchy?”

Robbe frowned. “Yeah? He’s blind, touch is, like, his way of seeing.”

Max nodded. “Then, why does he only ever touch you ?”

Robbe could feel his features harden. He wasn’t dumb, he could clearly understand what Max was insinuating.

“He doesn’t.” Robbe answered, his tone sharp and severe.

Max smiled, as if he could clearly see through Robbe’s bluff. He held Robbe’s gaze.

“He does, though.”

Robbe thought back to all the times he’d been with Sander and other people. He did accept Milan’s group hugs, but even when he came over to eat at the flatshare, he wouldn’t purposefully brush his hands on Milan’s, Zoë’s or Senne’s. If they went to catch a movie with the boys, Sander would only ever lay his head on Robbe’s shoulder, curling up into his side. Even at Sander’s house, Robbe couldn’t remember Sander being so tactile with his mother or his sister. He always did stuff himself, and if he needed them, he’d call them out loud instead of touching them to get their attention the way he did with Robbe.

And tonight. Sander had kept a free seat next to him for Robbe. He’d touched Robbe, almost constantly in one way or another. But he’d never even accidentally brushed against one of his other friends. He wasn’t cold towards them, and you could see the friendship that was linking them together, but still… No touch.

If Sander was truly that tactile, then wouldn’t his childhood friend, Max, and his other uni friends notice he’s tactile as well?

So, if Sander was only ever tactile with Robbe, then why? Was it funny to him? Did Sander think he could try and see what he could do, how far he could go, before Robbe would catch up?

The befriending, the breakup, the mysterious past with Britt… Everything was making sense, now. Robbe had been played, hard. He didn’t know why, what motive Sander could possibly have to make a fool out of Robbe, but he’d succeeded.

Robbe felt angry, betrayed and ashamed. But most of all, he felt pain. He could sense his heart cracking and falling into tiny pieces, as more and more worries overtake his mind.

Whatever he had left of pride was holding back his tears from rolling down his cheeks. He got up, grabbed his bag and coat.

“I... I have to go.” Robbe told the group of three, hurrying towards the entrance like his life depended on it (and at the moment, he felt like it truly did).

He slammed the door open, stepping outside as the first tear streamed down his face. He tried to wipe it away, but it only got replaced with even more tears. He walked down the small steps and leaned against the wall, his head tilted to the sky.

He was furious. He wanted nothing more than to go back in there, make a scene and demand explanations from Sander. But even more than that, he was humiliated. It wasn’t the first time he’d been made fun of, but this time, it hurt a lot more and a lot deeper. What he felt with Sander…

It’s true what they say, he supposes. Ignorance truly is bliss.

Robbe heard the doorbell of the bar ring, but he didn’t pay attention to it.

“Robbe? Robbe!” a voice shouted from his right.

Sander.

“Fuck off, Sander.” Robbe said, getting ready to walk away, but Sander was quicker in grabbing his arm. Robbe sighed tiredly, too exhausted and hurt to fight. “Let go,”

Sander shook his head firmly.

“No. No, Robbe, come on. I don’t know what they told you, but whatever it was, it’s definitely not what you think.” Sander pleaded.

“I don’t care, Sander. Whatever little game you were playing, I hope you had your fun. I’m out.” Robbe said, trying, unsuccessfully, to shake his arm out of Sander’s grasp. “Let me go, Sander!”

“Robbe, Robbe, listen to me. Please. I wasn’t playing any game, I swear, I can explain. Please.” Sander was practically begging, and Robbe could see tears forming in his eyes. He turned his head away.

“Let go,” was all Robbe said, trying to appear cold and composed.

Sander loosened his grip, and Robbe thought he’d finally listened.

A second later, Sander’s hands were cupping his face. Another second later, and Sander’s lips were on his.

Robbe was frozen in place at first, his brain unable to process everything that was happening.

The warmth from Sander’s hands on Robbe’s cold, wet, cheeks. The warmth of Sander’s mouth against his own. The explosion of heat pooling in his stomach. The explosion in his own brain.

Sander was… Kissing him?

Robbe brought his hands up to Sander’s shoulders, pushing him back. He felt a little bad when he saw Sander stumble backwards, not realizing how hard he had pushed him away.

“Sander… I…” Robbe started, unable to form a single coherent thought.

“I like you, Robbe. A lot. A lot more than other people. So, that’s why. I wasn’t playing you.” Sander said, a sad smile dancing on his lips.

Robbe took a small, tentative step back. He could feel his body shaking, badly, as if the temperature had suddenly dropped well under zero.

“Sander… I don’t… I’m not…” He swallowed painfully, “I don’t like you, not like that .”

The word was said with a bit more venom than Robbe had been shooting for, and he could see the second it hit Sander.

Sander’s face crumpled, as he whispered a small, desperate, “What?”

Robbe tried to breathe in, but even his breathing was shaky. “I’m so sorry, Sander. I’m… I have to go. I just… I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Robbe threw Sander one last apologetic look, turning on his heels and walking away.

The last thing he heard were Sander’s first sobs. His own followed soon after.

As soon as Robbe turned the corner, he let his tears flow freely as he took off in a run. He didn’t even know where he was going, or where he was, but he didn’t care.

His whole world had just fallen apart and the most important person in his life was gone.