by athens7 as Jack (font: Courier New)
and mazaher as Patrick (font: Verdana)


2. Separation


Jack leaves (Jack’s POV)

I look at him, I think I recognise once again what his eyes are telling me, and I retreat.
You idiotic, love-sick, touch-starved godchild, my brain shouts lashing out at me.
What demon possessed me?
I know, with a certainty that makes me shake with nausea, that the alcohol is not to blame, not even in the slightest.
nstincts are misleading. You should not think what you're feeling. And yet. Here I am, my lips still tingling with the searing hunger of his kisses, my hands itching to touch him once more.
I pushed too far, overstepped my bounds, abused of privileges so arduously obtained, and now I have to make amends.
I stand on trembling legs, carelessly gather my clothes scattered on the floor around us, whisper “Forgive me” (but, God help me, without looking him in the eyes) and leave.
And while I step out of the black door with the polished brass knocker shaped like a feminine hand holding a ball, all that is left to me is the hope -- Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas – that some day, one day we will manage to go back to our old, reassuring pantomime.


Jack leaves; Jack goes to Patrick,


Jack leaves, Patrick goes to Jack