The slow death of their once fiery, all-consuming love left Alexei hollow, bewildered. There had never been a handbook given to him for how to keep passion alive or for how to let it die gracefully. But Alexei had always clung to one unspoken rule: he needed to be needed. Desperately. And perhaps that was his undoing. His hunger for Francisco’s affection was a bottomless well, insatiable. He wanted to be craved with the same fervor that had once kept them up until dawn, drunk on each other. He never imagined the love that had once felt so unbreakable could splinter under the weight of time and silence. Yet here they were, staring down the wreckage. Reality had dragged them both awake.
"Yeah... I’ll be happy," Alexei lies, voice a brittle echo of the man he used to be. Because isn’t that what you do at the bitter end of love? You plaster on the lie, hold it together just long enough to make the parting easier. To convince the other person you’ll survive, even when your chest feels like it’s collapsing. He forces a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. The last thing he wants is pity---- or worse, for Francisco to stay out of some misplaced obligation.
"You be happy, too," he adds, the words razor-sharp as they scrape their way out. "We’ll always be friends, right? Just 'cuz I’m movin' out doesn’t mean we can’t... you know, talk, hang out sometimes." It feels like bargaining with a ghost, grasping at some fragment of connection that might survive the funeral of their love. People say it’s possible, that friendship can endure after the passion fades. But Alexei doesn’t believe it. Not really. Still, he needs Francisco to play along, to pretend this isn’t the end of everything.
Because the truth (the raw, bleeding truth) is too much to bear: that love can die, and when it does, it doesn’t go quietly. It leaves ruins. And Alexei is still standing there, lost among the debris, pretending the world hasn’t ended.
continued from here! @reddevilmcnt
francisco feels his chest aching so bad, it feels like it might split him open. the weight of everything feels so heavy on him, making it hard to even breathe, let alone speak. he’s always needed alexei, more than he’s ever let himself admit. it’s not just love... it’s deeper than that. it’s in his bones, in the way his very core craves the older man in ways that go beyond words and beyond reason. alexei has always been his anchor, his safe place. the idea of losing that feels like losing himself. his fingers tremble where they clutch the sheets, his knuckles turning white with the effort of holding himself together. but the distance between them... it makes it impossible to ignore how empty the room already feels, even with alexei still present, standing before him.
“you’ve always been my person,” frankie murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. he doesn’t look up right away... he doesn’t dare to. “you’re the one i turned to when the world got too loud, when i didn’t know how to keep myself together— and now you’re…” his words trail off, swallowed by the lump rising in his throat. “you’re leaving... and i don’t know how i’m supposed to do this without you.” he finally forces himself to meet alexei’s gaze, his eyes glistening with unshed tears that threaten to spill over at any moment. “i’ve needed you, alexei. every part of me has needed you. not just to love, but to feel like i’m… enough. like i matter and i know, i know that’s not fair. it’s not fair to ask you to stay when things haven’t been right for a while... but i don’t know how to turn it off. i don’t know how to stop needing you.”
his voice cracks a little and he has to pause, pressing a shaking hand to his mouth as if it might stop the flood of emotion from escaping. his chest rises and falls with shallow, uneven breaths, the effort of holding himself together becoming almost too much.
but frankie has one more question clawing its way to the surface. he looks at the other again and this time there’s no holding back the tears that spill freely down his cheeks. he asks, voice trembling as his fingers clutch onto the edge of the bed, “is it too late? do you… do you really think this is the end?” his words hang in the air, thick with desperation and the faintest flicker of hope, a hope he knows is fragile and foolish but can’t bring himself to let go. frankie leans forward a little, his entire body screaming for the love of his life, aching to close the space between them... but he doesn’t move. he doesn’t reach out. francisco waits with a pounding heart for an answer that might either shatter him... or save him.