Rootless Diamond

i miss them too 💛.  here’s what they’re up to. (i got carried away. sigh.)

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“I could put my desk here.”

“Why not there?” Even points to a wider corner in the empty bedroom.

“Hm. Your desk could go there instead. It’s bigger.” Isak responds absentmindedly as he continues inspecting the walls of the bare living room.

Even’s gasp is barely audible, but Isak hears it. 

He stifles his own when he realizes what he’s just said and wills his feet to remain glued to the floor. His back turned to Even. His ears and neck probably flushed already.  

“My desk?” Even asks behind him, his voice soft, his tone playful. Isak knows he’s smiling. “Why would my desk be in your apartment, Isak?”

Ugh.

“I don’t know. Most of your shit is currently at Kollektivet. Figured it’s only a matter of time before you start carrying your furniture to my new place as well,” Isak responds with a shrug, then walks away to where the person showing them the apartment is standing. 

Good save, he tries to tell himself. But was it? His therapist would argue that he’s falling back on his usual coping mechanisms, that he’s regressing by resorting to sarcasm and evasion tactics instead of voicing how he truly feels, what he truly wants, what he truly needs.