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 Posted: Fri Mar 17, 2017 9:21 pm
It has been a few weeks preparing.
He doesn’t tell anyone. Auguste keeps things to himself, because he doesn’t want the others to worry, as he knows they will. Colin will insist he stay, Lorne will panic over everything, and Nadia will wrap her arms around him and try to keep him safe and warm in her embrace.
Auguste aches for their friendship, for their love, for their warmth.
He has been accruing supplies for the better part of two months, though he was never actually sure whether or not he would go through with it. Everything seems - different. He’s not sure why. Life is not moving the way he expected it to, perhaps. Auguste supposes that maybe life never really actually becomes the thing you want it to be, but he’s doing his best to figure things out.
That’s the hardest part - figuring them out.
He knows where to start, at least. Not an easy road at all. In fact, it hurts just thinking about it, some part of his chest beginning to throb every time he powers up, looking up at the blanket of stars above his head. He knows what lies out there and he knows what is in store for him, but he also doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to bear it.
He’s always been a little weak in that department. There’s no real shame in it, not really, but it’s still a reality, regardless of whether or not he can adjust to it.
His apartment with Nadia is his home. His favorite place, other than the dance studio, other than Colin’s apartment. Really, it’s the people who make it his favorite place. It’s the people who make his life something to continue working towards, because he has never felt more wanted than he has now. Auguste has longed for something like this since he left France, and for the first time, he has it.
And now he has to let it go, again.
Not forever. But for now.
His supplies are tucked away in the back of his closet. It’s not time yet. Auguste is waiting for the right moment, his fingers sliding through Pasha’s fur, sitting on his bed. She’s put her head in his lap, a soft, fluffy white cloud of simple adorance exuded from the way she drapes herself over him.
Auguste closes his eyes.
“It’ll be all right,” he says softly, and he’s not entirely sure whether he’s speaking to himself or to Pasha.
“Everything will be all right.”
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Posted: Sat Mar 18, 2017 1:55 pm
He doesn't know how to say goodbye.
It's something that claws its way through his chest, wants to push out; a deep set, painful feeling that seems to make itself at home inside of Auguste's heart. He can feel his own pulse, strong and steady, if he presses his fingers to his throat, but it jumps underneath his touch, erratic sometimes, unsteady.
Life is unsteady. Life is erratic.
It's not forever, but it feels like it.
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Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2017 10:14 am
The first letter is to Giulia.Infinities Dearest Giulia, I am sorry that you will not be able to come over for a while. I am going on a bit of a trip, and this means that you will not be able to see Pasha for quite some time, cherie. Je suis désolé; I know that you love her, and she loves you, and we will be very glad to see you again sometime, okay? Please save some treats for her. Don't fret. Nous serons bien, ma cherie.
J'aimerais te voir danser un jour.
- Auguste
It is delivered a week after their first walk together.
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Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2017 9:24 pm
Quote: Maman et Papa,
Un jour, je veux te revoir.
Jusque-là, je vous souhaite bonne chance.
Je t'aime.
- Auguste
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Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2017 9:29 pm
Nadia's letter is folded, left underneath her door on the morning that Auguste leaves. He does not tell her, and he does not say goodbye. The room that he has inhabited for the last two years is left as it is, everything neat and tidy, everything still in place. There is nothing out of the ordinary to suggest that he has gone, except for the fact that a few things are missing, including Pasha's things.Pixie Nyxie Nadia,
I'm sorry. I know I should have talked to you about this beforehand, but I couldn't. I wanted to say thank you for everything that you have done for me. Thank you for your kindness, your generosity, and your love. Thank you for your home, and the place that has become my home all this time. You are the sister I wish that I had had my entire life.
Please don't worry about me. I will be fine, and I will see you again.
I love you.
-Auguste
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Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2017 9:44 pm
Lorne's letter is left in his mailbox, on a day when Lorne is not home. Inside of the envelope is also a small key on a red ribbon.frayedflower Lorne,
You are like my older brother in the same way that Nadia is my older sister. You are my family, through and through, and I hope that you will always remember that. This is the key to the apartment that I shared with Nadia. I am sure that you have a key of your own, but please keep this one safe for me.
Please take care of yourself. And please take care of the others, as well.
I love you.
-Auguste
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Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2017 9:54 pm
Colin's letter takes the longest. Auguste puts off writing it until the very last minute, because even just thinking about it hurts; and trying to put all of his feelings for Colin Hargrove into words is an almost impossible task, because Colin is more than just words, he is -
- he is everything all at once.
The letter is left on Colin's table, on the last day that Auguste is there. He stays beside his bed for a long few minutes, watching the slow rising and falling of his chest before bending down and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Colin's cheek, and then a briefer one to his lips.
And then he is gone.Syrie Colin,
You are many things to me, too many to name.
Friend.
Lover.
Family.
You have taught me everything I needed and more. You gave me what I needed. Nadia brought me into this world of hers, but you were the first one who made me feel like I was worth more than the family I was raised in. The first one to tell me that it was okay to have a family that was not blood related.
The first one to tell me I belonged here in this world you have built with this family you have made.
I can never truly repay you for all that you have done for me, and I know you do not expect me to, because that is not how you are. But it is something that I will always be grateful for, because without you and without Nadia, without Lorne - I would not be the person I am.
Prends soin de toi s'il te plaît. Et s'il vous plaît prenez soin de Nadia et Lorne ainsi.
Je t'aime. Vous êtes mon prince, mon coeur et mon amour.
Nous nous reverrons.
-Auguste
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Posted: Fri Mar 24, 2017 7:46 am
One last letter is left.
This one is given to no one. Instead, it is left on Auguste's bed, tucked gently away in the pillows. Inside the envelope is a series of photographs, all of them taken over the last two years, of his time spent in the apartment. Auguste and Nadia, laughing together, cuddled on the couch. Auguste and Lorne, the former teaching the latter to dance. Auguste and Colin, embracing, Auguste's lips against Colin's cheek and Colin's arm around Auguste's waist.
The note is simple and addressed to no one.Quote: Please do not look for me.
Jusqu'à ce que nous nous retrouvions.
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Posted: Fri Mar 24, 2017 8:39 am
When it finally comes time for him to leave, he doesn't want to.
It is an average, every day sort of morning. Nadia is gone, perhaps at Lorne, perhaps in school, perhaps at Colin's, or dancing, or just simply out. The apartment is quiet, save for the soft thumping sound of Pasha's paws against the carpeting as she follows her master around.
Auguste has been steadily gathering supplies for the last several months; all he has left now is a backpack with the most essential things, and Pasha's leash in his hand, along with an extra collar, which he carefully tucks away in one of the pockets of his backpack. A few snacks, though the trip isn't long at all. Extra water bottles, because he can never have too many of those. Some dog treats. Several journals, nestled away, along with an entire two package of pens, because he doesn't want to run out of them. A few books, some of his favorites.
Nothing electronic except his iPod and a host of portable, wireless batteries that will eventually run out, but he knows this already.
No laptop.
No phone.
He takes his time in leaving. Auguste makes his bed with a dedication and a care that seems silly, maybe, but he can't help it; he doesn't want to leave things messy or undone. Everything is carefully, tidily put away. Then he lets himself walk around the apartment, just walking, just looking, his gaze moving from one thing to the next, where all of his memories are stored.
Everything aches. Everything hurts.
But this is what he wants. This is what he needs.
Pasha is unusually silent throughout this process; perhaps because she knows the importance of it, the almost reverent way in which Auguste dusts his fingertips along the back of the sofa. The way he draws lines over Nadia's door, the tender way in which he picks up a stuffed animal, or holds a pillow to his face and simply breathes in the scent of it.
This is his home. Not the house in France, not the boarding schools he attended. This place, with its warmth and its love imbued by Nadia and Colin and Lorne and everyone else that Auguste has come into contact with, even the ones he no longer speaks to.
In another place, he thinks, and closes his eyes.
In another life, maybe.
He opens his eyes. Pasha is waiting at his side, obedient and quiet.
"Time to go," Auguste says softly.
He doesn't look back.
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