let me hear your voice (just one more time)
(for @sal-si-puedes for saying the nicest things when I really needed to hear them. CW: Major character death)
A click. A beat.
Nile, stop. No it just beeped at me… don’t...sorella...
It feels like an ache most days. Deep and abiding. A bruise on his heart that stays and stays and stays. Nile’s hand finds his shoulder when he presses against his chest. His heart beats under his palm. It is a love song. He is here. He holds him here. Nile is kind, her fingers tight against his skin. He mimics her breaths. In and out. It isn’t right, but it will do.
Sì, sì. I know how it works. Hello Joe, I hope you get this before we get home.
It builds, on days like this. He doesn’t even feel it, doesn’t notice the signs. Booker does. Booker gently puts back the second mug he pulled down for coffee. Booker sits at the chair across from him at the table. The knees and feet knock in the wrong place. Booker puts the television up too loud, so Joe doesn’t think to turn his head. So he can’t look to his side and offer a joke. Booker taps his fingers nervously against his glass. He always salutes, as if he sees him too.
...Nile...please! I am sorry, my heart. Nile wanted to grab something. Ack, I did not. Joe I did-- do not lie to my husband.
A laugh.
We will be home soon!
He is splitting open. The pit in his stomach grows and rends and he falls apart. A soft hand on his leg, a warm body along his side. He sobs. Great, heaving breaths. He shudders apart. One hand pressed to his heart as if it could stop the great, broken chasm inside him. As if there is anyone who could hold him together when he is so broken. They share a look over his head and he knows. He should stop this. He should. He can stop.
An exhale. A lowered voice.
I’ve missed you. I love you Yusuf.
A beat. A click.
I’ve missed you. I love you Yusuf.
He gasps, cracks along the seams and falls. He shivers. He needs… he just needs...
I love you Yusuf
I love you
