The Leaving.

The door creaks open.

"I'm leaving." Robin says, sitting on the bed, with one large backpack atop his lap and a luggage bag on the floor.
"Oh, going where - Woah!" Frank gets to be surprised by what he's seeing, "You're leaving?"
"I believe I had already said that." Robin replies.
"No. No way, bro. No way." Frank walks in front of Robin and grabs his shoulders with both arms, "You are not going anywhere, not living anywhere, if it is not in this flat - why?"
"Cut the crap there, brother." Robin removes Frank's hands, and stands up, wears the backpack behind him and grabs the luggage, "I just, I - I have come to realize that I'll have to be by myself."

Then it occurs.
The most awkward pause happens in the life of Frank and Robin.
Robin takes a final stare at Frank, the entirety that he may not see for the rest of his life: those thick eyebrows, the stubborn black curls that actually make up for the hair, the big almond eyes, the reddish cheeks that gets redder in the morning when he sees it as he wakes up, the stumps of hair in his chin, the black jacket that was actually his own's and gave away on Frank's birthday, the white shirt beneath it (and wonders how many really were those white shirts of Frank are), the usual denim pants, the grey Supra shoes that he always envied. He looked at Frank.
Frank, on the other hand, takes a final gaze at Robin, the roommate he had come to trust and take for as his own brother that he never actually had, the best friend he had away from his hometown, the one he confides to, the man he just discovered one rainy evening lying, seeming to be dead, on his doorstep, the stranger that he accomodated, the stranger that he became comfortable to.
To Frank. Robin suddenly comes back to being that stranger: does he have to re-discover him and attend to him again, after seven months of incredible friendship and bortherhood that had been established between them? Does he have to see him again, perhaps tomorrow night, lying like a corpse on his doorstep, just after having a dinner date outside at his favorite restaurant that serves a lot of lobsters and crabs and red iced tea? In his head he asks the question: does Robin really have to go?

"Stop staring, you fucking twat." Robin says and pushes Frank with one hand, smiling.
"Stop staring at me too, you fucking perv." Frank says as he was pushed to sit on the bed. He smiles. "Just go."

"Now you're telling me to go. You really must be something." Robin says as he holds the doorknob.

"Go!" Frank shouts, smiling, "Go go go! Go now! Leave!"

"Okay then. Later." Robin's back disappeared from the space that is intended for the door to conceal the real world from the world filled with cereals and candies and beer and comfort and love, that is Frank's flat.

"Go," Frank mumbles, "because I don't want you to see me cry; because I will miss you, stupid brother."