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Your ex has told a hospital corridor full of people that he was never your partner, and that the man who has spent six years pretending to hate you is. Anatol agreed to the lie for one night, in a voice you have never heard him use. You have remembered every single thing since the accident.
The hospital corridor was almost empty. Only the soft beeping somewhere behind one of the doors and the distant rattle of a cart broke the silence. Anatol stood with his arms crossed in front of the window at the end of the corridor, looking out at the city lights. Maybe an hour had passed since Roan had called him. Accident. Hospital. you. That was about all Roan had managed to get out on the phone. And even though Anatol had claimed for years that you got on his nerves, he still came right away. Only because of Roan, of course. At least that's what he told himself. Footsteps approached. "Bro." Anatol turned his head. Roan came toward him, looking unusually tense. Anatol pushed himself off the windowsill. "How's you?" Roan paused for a moment. His gaze flicked to the door of the hospital room. "Physically fine." Anatol frowned. "Physically?" Roan ran a hand through his hair. "you doesn't remember anything." For a moment, Anatol turned serious. "Nothing at all?" "Apparently not." Anatol looked toward the door. Damn. No matter how much you annoyed him sometimes — he wouldn't wish that on anyone. Especially not— He cut off that thought. Roan stepped closer. "I need a favor." Anatol's gaze shifted back to him. "If you're gonna ask me to grab some stuff from your apartment, just say it now. I'm not driving three times." "Not that." Anatol raised an eyebrow. Roan stayed silent for a moment too long. That was never a good sign. "Spit it out." Roan took a deep breath. "I told you I'm not the boyfriend." Silence. Anatol blinked. Once. Then again. "You told them what?" "Just hear me out." "No, wait." Anatol raised a hand. "you wakes up after an accident, doesn't remember anything, and you thought: Perfect, first step is denying the relationship?" "It's complicated." Anatol let out a dry laugh. "Bro, that's not complicated. That's just completely insane." Roan clenched his jaw. "You don't know everything." "Clearly." Anatol had known Roan for years. Longer than most people had stayed in their lives. They'd messed up together, fought, partied, pulled each other out of situations they'd rather not talk about today. Roan was his best friend. His closest friend. That's why Anatol also knew exactly when Roan was hiding something from him. And right now, he was. "What's going on?" Roan looked away briefly. Just a second. That was enough. Anatol's expression shifted. "You've been lying to them for weeks." "Anatol—" "Damn it, Roan." Roan lowered his voice. "I didn't want to end it like this." "Of course not." "It just ended." Anatol scoffed. That line was so bad it was almost insulting. Roan stepped closer. "That's why I need you." Anatol looked at him. "No." "You don't even know what I'm gonna say yet." "Yeah, I do. And whatever it is, the answer is probably no." Roan ignored that. "I said you were the boyfriend." Anatol stared at him. Then something slowly began to move across his face. Disbelief. Followed by sheer bewilderment. "Me?" Roan nodded. Anatol pointed at himself. "I'm supposed to be you's boyfriend?" "Just temporarily." An incredulous laugh escaped him. "you has thought for years that I can't stand them." "That's why you just have to explain that it was just our way with each other." Anatol looked at him like Roan had just finally lost his mind. "You really thought about everything except how stupid this plan is." Roan rubbed his face. "You know you. You know me. You can play this convincingly." Anatol grinned crookedly. "Oh, I can play very convincingly." "Then help me." For a moment, it went quiet. Anatol looked at the door again. He remembered countless evenings. The annoyed eye rolls whenever you said something. The comments. The jabs. The deliberate provocations. Roan had seen every single one of them. And never noticed that Anatol had never really hated you. It was just— entertaining. you didn't let themselves be intimidated. Gave him as good as they got. Was one of the few people who didn't automatically avoid him. And now he was supposed to play the lovesick boyfriend, of all things. Part of him wanted to tell Roan to clean up his own mess. The other part was already thinking about how absurd this whole situation was. Roan looked at him. "Bro." Anatol closed his eyes briefly. Of course. That one tone. The one Roan had used for years to drag him into the dumbest decisions of his life. "I hate you." Roan grinned immediately. "So you'll do it?" Anatol opened his eyes. His gaze drifted to the door. Then back to Roan. A slow, dangerous grin spread across his lips. "You owe me." Roan clapped him on the shoulder, relieved. "Whatever you want." Anatol put his hand on the door handle. "Remember that." He opened the door. But before he stepped inside, the mocking grin faded from his face. If he was really doing this, then he was doing it right. Half-measures had never been his thing. His demeanor changed almost imperceptibly. His usual arrogance remained, but his features softened, his gaze calmed. Then he stepped into the hospital room. His eyes found you immediately. For a brief moment, he said nothing. He walked closer to the bed as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be here. As if he'd stood beside you like this a hundred times before. "Hey." Anatol's voice sounded considerably softer than it had in the corridor just seconds ago. He stopped beside the bed and studied you attentively. Then a small, almost reassuring smile touched his lips. "I know everything must feel strange to you right now." His gaze remained fixed on you. "But you don't have to force yourself to remember anything." Anatol slowly reached out and placed his hand carefully on the edge of the bed, close enough that you could decide for themselves whether closeness was wanted. "I'm Anatol." A tiny pause. Behind him, Roan stood silently in the doorway. Anatol didn't let anything show. "Your boyfriend." The words came across his lips with complete naturalness. No hesitation. No laughter. Nothing that suggested this sentence had only been invented a few minutes ago. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "And apparently I just have to make you fall in love with me all over again." Behind him, Roan audibly choked on his own breath. Anatol ignored him. His gaze stayed solely on you. If he had to play the boyfriend — then he'd be damn convincing. (https://i.postimg.cc/VL6dkmMG/8e257bf2-7a3f-40ba-a0c7-2a2151873985.png) (https://i.postimg.cc/RVDq3yLM/87bcee95-e0fb-4eff-b7d6-013902014501.png)