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Jij Verliest - Chapter Eight: Clip 8&9
master list
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the final clips of Jij Verliest... *sob(be)s* the final chapter will be posted later this evening or tomorrow morning
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Donderdag 18:28
When his mama arrived home to find Zoë and Robbe already working in the kitchen, she was beside herself, with her anxiety rolling off of her in waves. Her boss, Margot, had held her back at work and she had texted Robbe frantically to let him know that she was running late. Even though Robbe had a spare key and assured his mama that everything would be alright, she was still nervous. Once she arrived at the apartment, she tossed her purse into one of the living room chairs and started to set the table.
But Zoë was having none of it.
Before his mama could put down the empty vase that once held Senne’s daffodils, Zoë was taking the vase from her hands. Placing it on the kitchen counter, Zoë shuffled his mama out of the kitchen and toward her bedroom to take a shower. As Robbe stirred the sauce in the pan he held, he could hear Zoë assuring his mama that they were fine and if she needed one, she should take a shower. When Zoë returned to the kitchen, Robbe could barely hear the sound of running water down the hall.
“How is she?” Robbe asked.
“She’s pretty nervous,” Zoë said. “But the shower should help her relax a little.” Robbe nodded and gave her the spoon when she asked for it. Before she tasted the sauce, she turned to Robbe. “If you want to set the table before she gets out, I can handle the food for a few minutes.”
As Zoë returned to cooking, Robbe reached into the cabinets and grabbed out five plates. Placing them on the counter, he moved the rest of his mother’s table decorations to the counter beside the empty vase. Robbe set the plates down at each of the chairs with the fifth plate at one of the ends. Once he grabbed one of the folded chairs from the hall closet, the table was set.
Once his mother exited the bathroom with a fresh set of clothes and mostly dry hair, she looked more relaxed. Like Robbe and Zoë, she wore a pair of jeans that looked practically new and a nice blouse. When she noticed the table was set, she pivoted to the two of them at the stove and said, “You could’ve at least left me one thing to do before they get here.”
Robbe chuckled, shaking his head, as Zoë announced, “It’s alright, Mama. Dinner's nearly ready.” As if summoned, the buzzer rang through the apartment. His mama shuffled out of the room to buzz them in. Zoë nudged Robbe with her hip before she moved to place the food on the counter. As Robbe pulled the bread from the oven, he heard the front door open and Senne’s voice filtered in from the living room.
“Good evening, Marie,” Senne said.
“It’s good to see you, Senne,” his mama said. There was a brief pause and a hush of mumbled voices as Zoë scurried out to greet them as well. Through the cut out in the kitchen, Robbe could see that Senne had a bottle in his hands. “You didn’t have to bring anything!”
“I know,” Senne said, grinning sheepishly. “My parents taught me to never show up empty-handed and it’s non-alcoholic.” Robbe thought the last part was directed to Zoë.
As Robbe placed the bread into a basket, the deep drum of Sander’s voice caught his attention. “We also brought you these,” he said. Robbe bent down a little and his eyes caught sight of Sander. Even though he had gotten off work less than thirty minutes ago, he was dressed in a black button up shirt and a pair of blue jeans. In his hand, he held a bundle of flowers—bright yellow daffodils with orange tulips—which he handed over to Robbe’s mother. “Senne and I wanted to bring you some more since your last bouquet is probably wilted by now.”
His mother laughed. A slight nervous tilt trembled her voice. “Yes, they are,” she said. She took the bouquet of flowers and beamed up to Sander, who was similarly nervous. “Thank you so much! These are beautiful flowers.”
“I’m Sander,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Yes, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” his mama said. She took his hand and shook it quickly before ushering him inside the rest of the way. “Robbe has told me so much about you.” As soon as Sander stepped fully inside of the foyer, his mama was closing the door. Smiling to himself, Robbe returned to placing the rest of the bed in the basket. “I’m so glad we were able to meet today!”
“Me too,” Sander said. “Robbe has told me a lot about you as well. It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. IJzermans.”
“Oh, please, call me Marie.” His mother stepped into the kitchen. Sander was on her heels, with Zoë and Senne trailing behind with the bottle of non-alcoholic wine. As his mother immediately went to put the brand new bouquet of flowers into the vase, Sander sent a flirtatious grin his way. Robbe didn’t miss the way Sander’s eyes did a quick once over of his body. “All good things I hope,” his mama said.
“Of course, they’re good things, Mama,” Robbe said. He placed the bread on the table before turning to Sander, who snaked one arm around his waist.
His mother giggled as she filled the vase with water. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head.
“Hey,” Robbe said.
“Hey,” Sander echoed before he closed the distance between their lips. Sander’s kiss was gentle and soft. Even in the enclosed space with his mama, Senne, and Zoë, Robbe half-expected Sander to push open his mouth and lick inside. But he was also thankful that Sander kept it chaste as he could. There was a hint of added pressure at the end with a small tug of his shorter hair. When their kiss broke, Sander beamed at him, tugging at the collar of Robbe’s own button up. “You didn’t have to get dressed up for me.”
Robbe raised his eyebrow and tugged on Sander’s collar. “You should take your own advice.” Sander grinned and kissed him again.
One of the cabinets was thrown open too hard and the entire group turned to Zoë, who was checking to make sure that the cabinet was okay. She turned to them with a sheepish look on her face. “Sorry! I always miscalculate with your cabinets, Mama.”
“It’s alright,” his mama said. She turned to Senne, who was leaning against the door frame. “You said it’s non-alcoholic, right?” Senne nodded as Zoë started pulling wine glasses from the cabinets. Sander moved over and grabbed the wine bottle from the counter. “Good, good,” she said. “Alcohol messes with my medication and I need to make sure that I don’t take too much.”
Even though everyone in the room knew that his mama took medication, Robbe could see the brief second of her shoulders stiffening up. It was like her brain had caught up to what she said and she was beginning to panic internally. Robbe could feel the gears turning in his own head, to try and divert attention back to the dinner at hand, but before he could even think of it, Sander was saying, “Yeah. Alcohol messes with my medication, too. My therapist keeps telling me not to drink more than a glass.”
When his mother’s shoulders loosened, Robbe let out a breath of relief.
“Yeah,” Senne said, already laughing. “And yet, you still end up having more than a glass anyways.”
As Sander poured a glass, he didn’t spare Senne a second glance. “Yeah, yeah, I know that but sometimes, I just can’t stop myself, okay?” Senne laughed loudly as Zoë handed him another glass. Like clockwork, the two of them alternated until there were five even glasses on the table.
“The food is getting cold,” Zoë said, handing the last wine glass to his mama.
As the rest of them settled down at the table, Robbe glanced at his mama. She was staring at the flowers and holding the glass of wine in one hand. But even though part of her face was obscured by hair, Robbe could see a smile growing. Turning to them, she moved over and sat down in the only remaining chair between Zoë and Sander (as Sander had promptly claimed the folding chair).
Taking a sip of the wine as Zoë passed out the food, his mama asked, “So, what do you do, Sander?”
“Wow, you really don’t tell anyone about me, do you?”
The remark was directed towards Robbe, who simply shrugged, but there was a fond smile on Sander’s face nonetheless. “I don’t know. I’ve always had more important things to talk about than your job.”
Sander grinned, patting his knee beneath the table, before answering his mama, “I’m a tattoo artist.”
“Oh, and do you like your work?”
“Very much so.”
“Good. That’s what everyone should strive for. If you like your work and you enjoy what you do, you’re doing something right.”
…
Vrijdag 22:41
In the end, Robbe knew that they would have to return to this bar eventually.
It was the bar where Robbe had gone with the Broerrrs to have a guy’s night—a futile attempt to get his mind off Sander—and it was the bar where Robbe had run into the person who would change his entire world. It was the bar where Sander had seen him for the first time. It was the bar where, pardon the cliché, everything had changed… for the better. And it was where he was heading to now.
About halfway through his typical Friday night stream, his phone had buzzed. When he checked his phone on one of his breaks, he found a text from Sander: You’ll never guess who I found. There was a photo attached and it was of Sander… with Jens, Lucas, and Aaron. In the background, he could see Moyo with one arm around Noor.
Robbe had gotten the post-stream invite to meet up but he hadn’t known if he was going to meet up with them. His typical post-stream regime was to sleep away the exhaustion of talking nearly non-stop for three hours. But, still, once the stream had ended and his computer had shut off, Robbe found himself reaching for his tennis shoes and lacing them up. Once he called goodbye to Jonathan and Milan, he was headed out the door and down to his bike.
The bike ride over to the bar—Lilly’s bar—didn’t take a long time, or at least that was what it felt like. But, that might’ve been because Robbe was so eager to get there, so eager to be with his friends, with his boyfriend, and his boyfriend’s friends, that he might’ve biked a little harder than he normally would’ve. Once he locked his bike against the rack, Robbe quickly moved in the direction of the bar.
From the windows, it looked busier than it had been when Robbe had originally been there. Still, Robbe had no trouble picking out Sander’s bleach blond hair amongst everyone at the bar. The yellow glow of the light was flattering and made him look like he was surrounded in a halo. Sander was standing at the back at the bar with his camera in his hands. Lucas stepped into view beside him with two beers in hand. Sander took one of the beers and they continued talking.
Feeling warmth flood his entire body, he practically sprinted to the front door in an effort to get inside quicker. However, even in his rush, Robbe managed to catch the sight of the door opening. In an instant, Robbe snapped back into focus and jumped away from the door as it swung open. Someone stepped out with dark brown hair, a pair of shorts, and a to-go bag on one wrist.
Robbe was so eager to get inside that he didn’t even pay attention to who it was until—
“Robbe?”
Stopping short of the door, he turned. In the bright spotlight outside the front door, Robbe could see the features of the person. But his mind was so consumed with thoughts of going inside that it took a few seconds to realize that he knew the man. It took him a handful of moments after to realize who it was.
Thomas.
“Hey, Thomas,” Robbe said. Glancing inside to find Sander still engrossed in a conversation with Lucas, Robbe took a step back. Thomas was dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a simple maroon shirt. The bag of to-go containers was cutting deeply into his wrist, but he didn’t seem eager to go anywhere. He just remained halted across from Robbe and rocked from one foot to the other. Swallowing, Robbe asked, “How are you doing?”
“Okay,” Thomas said, shrugging. “The trial is finally over with so that’s good.” Robbe nodded absent-mindedly, glancing back into the bar to find Sander still deep in conversation with Lucas. “What about you? How have you been?”
“I’m great,” Robbe said. He shoved his hands in his pockets as Thomas switched the to-go bag to his other hand. “My streams have been doing well lately. Plus, Mama has been having a lot of good days lately, which is always good. So, it’s all been going good.”
Thomas nodded, smiling. “That’s good. So, what are you doing here at this old place?”
“Oh,” Robbe said. “Well, I finished my stream and Jens invited me out earlier so I—”
As if on cue, the door swung open. But, instead of Jens, it was Sander.
Nodding nonchalantly to Thomas, Sander made a beeline to him. There was a smile on his face, brightening up his face instantaneously. “There you are,” Sander said, softly as though it was only the two of them on the street. Even though Thomas was an arm’s length away, Robbe couldn’t resist the urge to place his hands on Sander’s chest, feeling the drum of his heartbeat against his palm. “I was starting to think that you weren’t going to come and I was going to have to come drag you out of your bed.”
Robbe grinned. “Or I dragged you in it.”
“Or that, too.”
Sander cupped his jaw before pulling him into a short but positively blinding kiss—as though Thomas wasn’t even there. Despite the short length, it was by far one of the dirtiest kisses that Sander had ever given him… in public. Almost instantly, Robbe’s mouth was pushed open and Sander’s tongue had slipped past his teeth. He clung tightly to his shirt, bit down on his bottom lip, and pulled them close at the hips. All at once, a warmth of love and safety enveloped him and Robbe wanted to hold onto it for as long as he could. The kiss was gone too soon, but the warmth lingered in his chest as Robbe blinked up at him, a little dazed.
“Come on,” Sander said, grinning triumphantly. “Lucas and I were just talking about cameras.”
“Okay,” Robbe said, giggling. He was barely able to manage a dazed goodbye to Thomas before Sander was tugging him into the bar. Once they were safely inside, a vaguely familiar song blasting over the speakers, Sander wrapped an arm around Robbe. He mirrored his boyfriend’s movement before grinning up at Sander. “What was that for?”
“What was what for?” Sander asked innocently.
As Sander tugged him through the crowd, Robbe searched out their friends. He spotted Zoë with one arm draped over Senne’s shoulder as she talked excitedly with Yasmina. Moyo and Noor were dancing in the shadows, wrapped up in each other’s presence. Britt had one arm around Alicia’s waist as she talked with Amber, Luca, and Aaron. If Milan weren’t sick or Jana in America, Robbe figured that they would’ve been here,too. All of their friends in one place… somehow, the thought of all of them together warmed Robbe further.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Robbe said, tugging at Sander’s waist.
Sander let out a sigh. There was a look on his face that was an almost convincing attempt at annoyance, but Robbe could see the corners of his lips upturned in a slight smile. “I don’t have any problem showing the fact that I’m absolutely in love with you.” Robbe felt his cheeks flush up. “Thomas was foolish enough to lose you and I’m not about to make the same mistake that he did.”
Robbe shook his head as they neared Lucas, who was holding onto a camera. Even though they were close to their friends, Robbe couldn’t find it in himself to care. Without hesitation, he turned fully to Sander, who dropped his hands to Robbe’s hips to guide him backward. Robbe smiled at him and said, “I love you, you know that?”
“I do,” Sander said. “I love you, too.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Robbe was rising up to press a kiss against his lips. Because they were in a more public place—and maybe because Thomas was no longer around—this kiss was a lot more chaste, simple and loving. Robbe pulled Sander closer to his body, fisted his fingers in the hair on the nape of his neck, and kissed him a little deeper.
But the kiss didn’t last long before it was interrupted. Only, instead of Senne with a pillow, it was Jens. “Hey, lovebirds,” Jens said. Robbe turned toward Jens, who had arrived at Lucas’s side, and Sander settled against Robbe’s side. He had one arm thrown over his shoulder with an extra beer in his hand. Lucas was focused on the camera in his hands. “You can eat each other’s faces off later. Right now, we’re hanging out and having beers.”
Without pulling away from Sander, who had his nose pressed against his cheek, Robbe said, “I’m sorry. Who was the one that is continuously ten minutes late to meeting up with his friends because he always stops to make out with his boyfriend?”
Lucas laughed, turning to press a kiss against the curve of Jens’s jaw. “He got you there, babe!”
Jens flipped Robbe off.
Still wrapped in his arms, Sander chuckled. His breath brushed across his cheek as his arms tightened around Robbe’s waist. Instead of turning out of Sander’s arms toward his friend, Robbe turned back to Sander and placed a gentle kiss against his lips. He ignored the sound of Jens’s whistle and the gentle slap that Lucas made against Jens’s cheek. Robbe just pulled Sander closer and kissed him a little deeper.
Robbe broke their kiss, beaming at Sander. Once Sander patted his side, Robbe snatched the extra beer from Jens’s grasp, and Sander restarted the camera conversation that he quickly got lost in. Zoë showed up a few seconds later, wrapping her arms around the both of them. With her electric blue hair falling down in waves, Alicia was there soon after and hugged Robbe tightly. After a while, Sander put the camera away and the group started sharing embarrassing stories. The smaller groups had merged into one gigantic group of melodious laughter and the bartender kept refilling their beers promptly.
As the night drew on, Robbe would have a few drinks and so would Sander. They would lean on each other a little too much and laugh a little too loudly before going back to the flatshare together. In the morning, Robbe would wake up in Sander’s arms with his nose pressed against his neck. In the evening, Robbe would nervously stumble through his words as Sander’s father and step-mother beamed brightly at him and Amber would be doing the same with Aaron at her side. For every day after that, they would live their lives one minute to the next—even the long ones, even the bad ones.
Robbe knew that he had forever and a day to be with Sander.
And he was looking forward to it.
...
thank you all <3
#wtfock#wtfam#jij verliest#robbe ijzermans#sander driesen#sobbe#rosander#zoënne#zoenne#zoë loockx#zoe loockx#senne de smet#noor bauwens#moyo makadi#britt ingelbrecht#oc: alicia#mama marie ijzermans#lucas van der heijden#jens stoffels#vds#van der stoffels#britt x a cute girl#milan x a cute boy#sorry i'm pulling a wtfock and not introducing you to sander's parents#aaron jacobs#amber snoeckx#luca lomans#yasmina ait omar
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Jij Verliest - Chapter One: Clip #7
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Donderdag 19:50
Every Thursday night, Robbe would visit his mother.
It had been a routine since Robbe had moved back out of their apartment and into the flatshare with Milan and Zoë (again). Every Thursday afternoon, Robbe would end his stream a little early, grab his things, and head over to his mama’s house. On his mother’s good days, his roommates would come with him (or, occasionally, one of the Broerrrs) and his mother would relish the burst of life in the flat. On his mother’s bad days, he would go by himself, because his mother didn’t like people seeing her like that. He knew she didn’t like him seeing her like that, but he still took care of her.
Today was one of her good days.
When Robbe had arrived, knocking on the door, she had thrown it open with an ear-to-ear smile as she pulled him inside. If someone were to walk by, it was impossible to deny that they were related. Robbe had inherited almost all of Marie IJzermans’s features—from her narrow face, her smaller form, and her long russet curls, tied back into a ponytail. Other than the pair of glasses perched on her nose, the resemblance was uncanny.
From the moment that his mother had pulled him into the small kitchen/dining room, she had launched into a tale that had made her smile so wide it must’ve hurt. Robbe moved around the kitchen at her order, helping her make some homemade pizza. He grabbed ingredients from the counter as she directed him, pausing mid-sentence in her story before continuing like she never stopped. As soon as one tale had ended, another one began. The tales lasted through their cooking session and continued as they sat down to eat.
For a moment, Robbe had forgotten about everything—about Thomas and his busy work schedule, about his school schedule and all the assignments he still had to do. For a moment, all he could think about was his mama and how she was having a good day; she was laughing, getting him to laugh, and it was infectious. As they wrapped up dinner, his mother’s phone rang and she hurried to get it. “Oh, it’s Margot.” One of her coworkers, he remembered. “I’m so sorry, I have to get this, Robbe.”
“It’s okay,” Robbe said, standing up. “I’ll start on the dishes.”
“It should only take a moment,” his mother promised before stepping out of the room.
Standing up, Robbe collected the dishes and the silverware from the table. He placed the plates and cups into one half of the sink before filling it with water and soap, letting it soak for a few minutes. Walking around the kitchen in almost uniformed precision, he put away the leftovers in the fridge and straightened up the table exactly how his mother liked it. Then, he set to work on the dishes, pulling one out of the water and scrubbing away the food, humming to himself, and trying to keep his lingering thoughts buried in his mind.
Since the breakup, Robbe had tried to keep busy. His streaming schedule intensified and he always managed to do his homework between lulls, between classes and streams. He had done everything virtually and physically in his power to do so. When he rode his bike, his music was always blasting in his ears, loud enough to drown out his thoughts (and possibly cause loss of his hearing over time—the jury was still out). The constant movement kept those thoughts at bay, helping Robbe move on from the breakup he didn’t want.
But, in moments like this, where Robbe wasn’t thinking about multiple things, where Robbe was doing something as simple as washing the dishes, thoughts of Thomas overran every defense that he managed to construct around his heart.
Robbe tried to control his brain, to return to the task in front of him: washing the dishes and being with his mama. But, even as he told himself that repeatedly—as he tried to reign his mind back into the present, to his mother’s voice outside the kitchen—his brain ignored his futile attempts of returning to the present. It dragged up Thomas without hesitation, thrusting Robbe into the past so quickly that he got whiplash.
There were so many memories that seemed to jump to the front of his mind. One, in particular, stood out among all the others—of Thomas, talking with his mom in the living room of this apartment in quiet whispers about plans for Robbe’s surprise birthday party, as Robbe did the dishes, watching them through the cut-out. The thought made warm tears spring to the corners of his eyes. A single tear fell from the corner of his eye, trailing down his cheek. Before his mother could return, Robbe wiped it away, trying to screw the cap back on his emotions.
No, he thought to himself. His thoughts were directed at the tears that were still threatening to escape. Not today, not now.
Robbe knew all too well that he shouldn’t—couldn’t—bottle up his emotions. They shook inside the container that he kept them in, stationed in his chest, located by his lungs and out of sight. He knew it was dangerous. His bones rattled and his brain was on the cusp of an explosion that could take down a city block. The last time he felt like this, he nearly ruined his friendship with the Broerrrs because he wouldn’t open up.
But he did it anyway.
He didn’t want to burden his mama with his recurring thoughts about Thomas. Not when she was continually struggling with her own issues. The past few months had been tough on her. Her medications weren’t working as effectively as they should and were in need of readjustment. The mere fact worried her intensely. The last thing that his mama needed to worry about now was Robbe’s lingering heartbreak. If Milan or Zoë were up when he got back to the flatshare, he would talk to them.
“Robbe, sweetheart,” his mother said, appearing at his side like smoke. She reached around him to pull the plate from his grasp. He blinked back to reality as his pruney fingers let go of the plate in his grasp. She placed the plate in the drying rack before turning to him. There was a worried expression on her face as she rested a hand on his shoulder. Robbe picked up another plate and began scrubbing. “You were scrubbing that same plate for five minutes. Is everything alright?”
“Yeah,” Robbe answered, swallowing the knot in his throat. He struggled to control his voice before he continued, not wanting his mama to hear the sadness in his voice. “I just got a little lost in my own thoughts is all. I’m okay.”
“Robbe,” his mama said, sounding all-knowing and wise. She ran her hand across his back, taking the new plate from his hands and placing it back into the dirty water. She reached down to take his wet hands in her own, swatting away the sponge that he was desperately clinging to. “If you think that I don’t notice when you’re holding something back, you are sorely mistaken. Now, what’s going on that’s eating away at you so much?”
Robbe opened his mouth to speak, but he wasn’t sure what to say. He thought about pushing away his mother’s concerns with a steady voice or to repeat that he was fine. However, with his mouth opened, no words came out. Robbe was left there, opening and closing his mouth, until the tears sprung back to his eyes and the emotions burst out from their containment, overflowing with vigor. A sob was ripped out of his chest and his legs buckled beneath him. Robbe gripped the counter to steady himself, to collect his emotions back into the jar, to steady himself.
His mother’s arms wrapped around him, her hands smoothing down his hair, and she whispered, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let it all out.”
At his mother’s words, at her reassuring strokes to his hair, the tears spilled freely and openly down his cheeks without inhibition. They were overwhelming and forceful and torrential, spilling from his eyes in waves. His legs buckled beneath him again and his mother gently lowered them both to the floor. She held onto him tightly until the tears subsided. When they did, she held onto him tighter, rocking him gently on the tile floor as she smoothed back his hair.
“I’m sorry,” Robbe whispered, his voice slightly scratchy.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart,” his mama said gently. She pressed a kiss against his temple before reaching up to scrub off the dried tear streaks. “You know that you don’t have to be strong for me, right?” Robbe leaned into her embrace, holding her arm tightly. “Keeping your emotions bottled up is only going to hurt you.”
Robbe let out a shaky breath, his voice hoarse as he said, “I just wish that I felt better.”
For a moment, his mama was quiet before she asked, “About Thomas?”
“Yeah,” he whispered, sitting up. Her arms moved as he shifted, letting him go so he could lean against the cabinet, facing her. He let out a heavy sigh as his mother rested her chin against his knee. “I just thought that I would feel better by now,” he admitted. “It’s been three months now… and sometimes, it just feels like it happened yesterday.” His mama nodded, rubbing her thumb across his knee. “It just feels like Thomas moved on so quickly, without even blinking, and I haven’t moved an inch.”
His mama reached out, taking his hand in her own. She curled her fingers around his hand and he quickly mirrored the action. “Everyone reacts to situations differently, Robbe,” his mama whispered. “You do not have to move on at the same pace as Thomas. Even though you were in a relationship, the two of you are different people and how you guys move on from your break up will be different.” She turned his hand over so it was palm-up in her own, tracing unintelligible patterns against the skin. “But you have to let yourself mourn, Robbe.”
“Huh?”
“Your relationship and Thomas meant so much to you,” his mama replied. “Both were very important pieces of your life for over a year. I know that it’s difficult to think about, but you need to let yourself mourn and cry about it. Once you’ve done that, you’ll start to feel a little better. Once that’s done, you will finally be able to mend your heart and move on.” Robbe nodded. “But, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with taking a little longer to move on from someone that was so important to you and your life.”
“I know,” Robbe whispered, feeling the tears well up again. “I just… I loved him so much, Mama, and I still love him. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that I could find someone else who even makes me feel even a fraction of what I felt for him.”
“You will,” his mama answered, certain and true as she clasped his hand tightly. “Right now, it may seem a little hard for you to believe. But you will fall in love again. And, it’s going to be just as beautiful and magical as it was the first time.” Robbe let out a sigh, shifting to rest his head against his mama’s shoulder. She patted his hand, resting her head against his. “You’re going to be fine and wonderful and you’re going to move at your own pace. You just have to let yourself.”
Robbe swallowed. “I love you, Mama.”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” his mother whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
next (Vrijdag)
#brenna writes#jij verliest fic#wtfock#wtfam#wtfock fanfiction#robbe ijzermans#sander driesen#sobbe#rosander#wtfock fanfic#wtf fanfic#twitch streamer robbe#twitch streamer!robbe#tattoo artist!sander#mama ijzermans#marie ijzermans#mother son relationships kill me too#any positive parent-child relationship kills me#MURDERS me
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Jij Verliest - Chapter Four: Clip 7
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Donderdag 18:45
From the second that his mama opened the door, Robbe could tell that it had been a bad day for her.
To anyone who didn’t know her, Marie IJzermans looked like she was okay, with her bright smile and her hair done up neatly. But her shoulders were slumped and the light behind her eyes was dim. As Robbe moved to help her with dinner, she shooed him away with a little more strength than she might’ve intended, saying over her shoulder, “I’m perfectly capable of doing things myself, Robbe.” Robbe had simply nodded, taking a seat at the table and waiting until she asked for help.
As Robbe watched his mama move around the kitchen, he thought that it was a good thing that Zoë decided not to come this week. Robbe knew that Zoë wouldn’t have minded; she had seen his mama in worser states. She had been bedridden, wrapped with enough blankets to form a literal cocoon, with enough sadness in her bones to last a lifetime. Robbe couldn’t see Senne minding either. When Senne lived in the flatshare, he always asked about her.
But his mama?
She would’ve been so upset with herself.
Whenever Robbe had talked about her meeting Thomas, his mama had been desperate to meet him on a good day. His mama’s worst fear was that she would make a bad impression on his boyfriend. She had been adamant about meeting him on one of her good days and Robbe had promised that they would. Thomas had been patient and understanding. Once they had met, his mama had been relieved that she didn’t “scare him away.”
Robbe knew that she wanted to make a good impression on Senne.
The chair next to him pulled out and his mama sat down next to him. “I’m sorry, Robbe,” she said, reaching out to take his hands. Robbe gripped her hands back tightly. “It’s just been so hard at work lately. Ever since the incident last Friday, Sharon has us working really hard to fix it. She’s doing her best and following procedure, but it’s stressful. And it’s a little hard right now.”
“It’s okay, Mama,” Robbe said. “I understand. You’re doing your best.”
“I know.” His mama sounded defeated. Her shoulders slumped a little as she let out a sigh. “It’s just been rough. It’s a lot of work and we’re trying to play catch up because we’re down a person. But it’s only going to get better.” Robbe nodded. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can talk about the details quite yet.”
“I know,” Robbe said. “But it’ll be okay.”
“Yes,” his mama said, moving to stand up. With a slightly wavy step, she moved to grab the pans from the stove. Robbe hopped on his feet to help her. Even though she tried to shoo him away with one of the hot pads, Robbe grabbed one of the pots, following her back to the kitchen table. “Now, enough about me, how has your week been? I know that your exams are finishing up this week, right?”
“Yeah,” Robbe said. He placed the pot down before moving to grab the two plates from the cabinet. “I’ve just got my last one tomorrow morning.”
“Oh. Have you done enough studying for it?”
“Yes,” he said, sitting down in the chair he abandoned. His mama sat down across from him, taking the plate that he offered. “I might leave a little early so I can go home and study a little more before I go to bed. But I’ve been studying almost all week. So I feel really good about it.”
“That’s great, I’m sure you’ll do amazing,” his mama said, smiling. She turned to the food and started piling green beans on her plate. Once she finished, she handed the small pot over to Robbe, who took it without comment. “Have you done anything else this week or has studying been the majority of your focus?”
Robbe bit down on his lip, trying to fight back the images of his afternoon with Sander. After being interrupted by Thomas, the two of them had leisurely kissed. They had lost track of the time between their kisses, so much that they were both surprised by the door opening. Luckily, Robbe had managed to throw his weight on the door before Milan tried to open it. Sander was laughing on his bed, muffling his laughter in one of his pillows, as Robbe argued with his roommate through the door. Once Sander had to leave, Robbe was only able to sneak Sander out the door when Milan took a shower.
As Sander kissed him beneath the doorframe, he whispered against the shell of Robbe’s ear, “It’s kind of hot being your dirty little secret, Robin.” Robbe had shoved him because he was the furthest thing from it and Sander laughed because he knew. But Robbe pulled him back for one more kiss by the collar of his shirt.
“It’s been the majority of my week, yes,” Robbe said, swallowing.
As he moved to grab the pan from his mama, he spotted the knowing look on her face. His mama’s brown eyes were squinted in his direction and a small smile was tugging on her lips. “What’s that look on your face for?” she asked. Knowing that she would catch him if he spoke, Robbe shook his head. “Don’t try to push it off. I know that look. What happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
“Robbe.”
“Okay, okay,” Robbe said. Letting out a breath, Robbe ran a hand through his hair before looking at his mama, who was smiling over at him fondly. Even though the food was cooling, his mama put down her fork and turned to him fully. Robbe let out a breath, a smile pushing up the corners of his lips. “I met someone a few weeks ago and we’re… together now.”
“Really?” his mother asked, smiling.
“Yeah. He came over yesterday and we hung out. But he’s been really insistent on me studying for my exams so we haven’t met up a lot.”
His mother turned to him. There was a serious look on her face as she leaned closer to him. Once again, his mama took Robbe’s hands in her own and squeezed tightly. Then, she looked him in the eye and asked, “He makes you happy, right?”
Robbe nodded. “Yes, Mama,” Robbe said. To his ears, it sounded like a confession. But he didn’t care. It was the truth. “He makes me happy. Happier than I’ve felt in a long time.”
“Good,” his mama said. Her smile turned watery as she gave Robbe’s hand one more squeeze. “You deserve someone who makes you smile like that all the time.” His mama released his hand before turning back to his food. “Now, I want to hear all about this man who has been really insistent on you studying. He sounds like quite the man.”
Robbe let out a breath, grinning. “Yeah. He is.”
#wtfock#wtfam#robbe ijzermans#sobbe#rosander#sander driesen#jij verliest#jij verliest fic#sorry i’m on mobile because my computer died#and i can’t make a cut#or i can’t figure it out#i’ll put one on as soon as i get to my charger#twitch streamer!robbe#twitch streamer robbe#tattoo artist!sander#mama ijzermans
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