#barbaren

A lonely room shouldn’t echo, he thought. But it did now. He crossed the floor slowly, his sandals whispering on the stone. On the bed, the blanket was still rumpled from that morning — the morning the messengers had come, the morning Marbod had been told he was leaving Rome to “lead his people.” The morning Flavus had smiled like a good Roman soldier while swallowing something sharp enough to cut him.

He sat on the edge of the bed. It dipped, just slightly, as if remembering a weight that was no longer there. Marbod had hated Rome. But he had loved him. Somehow, that made everything worse. Flavus picked up the bracelet Marbod used to wear — nothing more than braided leather, simple, stubborn, exactly like him. He ran his thumb over it, feeling the familiar roughness. It warmed under his touch.

“You didn’t even want to go,” he murmured into the empty air. His voice sounded wrong too, swallowed by silence instead of challenged by Marbod’s laughter or his grumbled “stop complaining.”

He let himself fall back on the bed, staring at the ceiling that suddenly seemed too high, too pale, too cold. His own breathing sounded foreign.

He had watched Marbod leave the city gates. Watched him walk with that heavy, reluctant stride. Watched him disappear beyond the arch as if Rome — as if Flavus — had already forgotten him. But Flavus hadn’t. He wouldn’t. The bracelet tightened slightly in his hand. Or maybe it was just his fingers. He shut his eyes. He could almost feel Marbod here — the warmth beside him, the smell of smoke and pine that clung to him even in Rome, the way he always took up more space than the bed allowed. A soft ache filled his chest. Like something misplaced and not yet found. Flavus opened his eyes again. The room hadn’t changed. But everything inside it had.

He whispered, so softly the walls barely heard it:

“I hope you find the place that feels like home. And I hope you come back to the one that feels like mine.”

Outside, Rome buzzed as always — full, loud, alive.

Here, in this small room, in this pocket of quiet too still, something was missing. Something was off. Flavus stayed there a long time, holding the bracelet, letting the loneliness settle gently around him like a thin layer of dust.