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“What are you reading?”
Wille turns the page, eager to know how this particular part of the story was going to play out. The previous one hadn’t been very good for the protagonist and Wille finds himself hoping this one would turn out better.
“Wille.”
It’s only when Simon’s hand lands on his thigh and his curls tickle his shoulder that Wille realises his boyfriend has said something, so engrossed was he in the book.
“Sorry, what did you say?” he asks a little sheepishly.
Simon lifts his head and drops a gentle kiss to the front of Wille’s shoulder before moving to mostly lean against his own pillow propped up against the headboard instead of Wille.
“I asked what you’re reading. Usually you at least notice when I’m getting into bed too. Or has the heat melted away your cognitive function entirely?” Simon says, his voice filled with warmth and a hint of teasing.
Wille huffs and lifts the book up from his lap, turning it so Simon can see the cover. “The Midnight Library. Of course you’d read a book about books.” Simon’s smile is fond when he turns to his side to look at Wille who’s half slouched over his own pillow.
“It’s not a book about books!” he protests.
“What is it about then?” Simon asks, his eyes scanning the blue cover.
Wille chews his bottom lip for a moment before answering. “It’s about this woman who, uhhh, decides to die but then ends up in this space between life and death and gets to live all the lives she could’ve had,” he explains in a rush. “I think it’s going to be a happy book in the end,” he continues before Simon can say anything.
“It better be. I’m done watching you be sad for days because you’ve finished yet another book where everyone is miserable,” Simon huffs.
“Hey! I wasn’t sad when I finished the previous book, I just didn’t think it was going to end the way it did,” Wille objects. Simon had sat on the balcony with him, sipping iced tea and listened to Wille babble about how bad he felt for the characters and the way they didn’t get their happy ending they deserved and okay, maybe Simon has a point about him having been a little sad.
“Sure,” Simon replies and kisses Wille’s temple before grabbing his phone, a clear indicator that he’s letting Wille get back to his book.
Wille finishes the chapter and tears through another and then another before Simon suddenly speaks again. “Would you try it?”
Wille frowns, because he’s not quite sure what Simon is referring to. “Try what?”
“Living all the lives you could’ve had. If you had the chance,” Simon clarifies, his eyes studying Wille’s face with interest but something else as well. Something Wille can’t quite put a name on, despite all the years they’ve spent together.
He looks at the book in his hand, the open books and the small cat on the cover. Would he?
He tries to imagine what the books in his own midnight library would look like. How many of them would there be? Where would they start? What would they contain?
Would there be one where he wasn’t born into royalty? He can’t really imagine one where he was nothing more than a Wilhelm Svensson, a regular person with no ties to the institution that’s been in place for centuries. He tries to think what his parents would do in this life. Would they be famed for their professions? Would they have had more time for Wille when he was younger? Maybe in this life they would have been a happy family living somewhere in the Stockholm suburbs, growing up running around in the garden and going to regular schools. Erik would probably be married with a kid or two by now.
Despite how detached from his reality it sounds to Wille, it does sound nice. Having a normal family, doing normal family things. Maybe they’d do Sunday lunches once a month and Simon and him would bring—
Except, Wille suddenly realises, he probably wouldn’t have met Simon in this life. He wouldn’t have attended Hillerska, wouldn’t have had any reason to ever go to Bjärstad. He tries to think of a way they might have met, but because Wille chose his university course based on where Simon wanted to study that possibility seems out of the question. When he can’t come up with anything he decides he wouldn’t have wanted this life anyway.
But a life where Erik didn’t die… That’s one Wille has dreamt of more times than he can count. First on the lonely nights right after the accident, then during the even lonelier nights some weeks later when he’d lost Simon too. If Erik didn’t die and was still Crown Prince, Wille could have gone through the three years at Hillerska in peace. Would have been able to slowly get to know Simon, eventually would have confessed liking the boy, would have been able to be young and in love without the whole world knowing. That’s something he used to dream of more times than he likes to think about.
Wille wouldn’t be where he is now if that’s how life had turned out, he concludes. At least not until Erik got married and produced an heir. Wilhelm would have been forced to stay in his role, to be the spare they still needed until a new child came along and he could be discarded. And while he might have been able to be with Simon, to love him, the royal court would have made him stay in the shadows. Would have made him be someone who was allowed to exist but not be seen, a secret Wilhelm was permitted to have as long as it didn’t affect his public image and cause scandals, because he’d caused them enough already. Maybe once Erik was a happily married man with a baby in his arms, Wilhelm could have had his freedom with Simon.
Wille would have hated it. Simon would have hated it even more. He’s not sure they would have survived it. If they had made it after Hillerska, with all the demands of the royal machinery. The thought makes Wille shiver and he thinks that as much as he would have done anything to have the life with Erik in it, he doesn’t think he’d ever be ready to sacrifice one with Simon for it.
Or maybe there was a life where Erik was never born. A life where Wilhelm was always the heir to the throne, a life where he had been taught every aspect of his role even before he could sit up on his own. It’s a life Wille struggles to imagine, with more questions than answers. Would he have ended up attending Hillerska anyway? Would he have gone after Simon at the initiation party, would he have been brave enough to do something like that? Would Simon even have been at Wilhelm’s initiation?
If they had found each other, if their paths had inevitably crossed as Wille likes to think they would have, would the court have let them be together? Or would they have told him Simon was not suitable company, let alone a suitable partner, for the future king of Sweden? Would they have told him to break up with the boy, would Wilhelm have been raised to understand his role and duties so that he would have done it? Would he have doomed himself to think about Simon, about all that could have been, for the rest of his life? Hoping that the ache in his heart would grow duller if not disappear completely, that the longing would turn into fond memories of his first love, hoping that whoever he decided to spend his days with would understand there would always be someone he missed. It’s not a life he wants to spend more time thinking of.
Maybe a life where he kept his promise to Simon after the video upended their lives. A life where he didn’t deny it was him, but instead stood by Simon’s side. A life where they faced the publicity and the questions and the storm together. Wille likes to think it would have made them stronger.
However, somewhere in the depths of his heart he knows it probably would have been the exact opposite. They might have been stronger together for a while, but after some time the pressure and the scrutiny would have become too much. For both of them to bear, but especially for Simon, and Wille can see how in this life the boy he loves so much would have eventually asked for a break. Would have asked for some space to figure out how to deal with everything that was happening to them because it was overwhelming and not something he was prepared for. And while it might have been just for a little while at first, Wille fears it would have turned into something more permanent. That in the end the demands and expectations of the crown would have driven them apart no matter how desperately they tried to fight it.
Wille doesn’t suspect for a moment that Simon wouldn’t have come out of it all stronger and braver, facing the world with his head held high. He’s not so sure about himself, the mere thought of these scenarios playing out in his life creating painful cracks in his heart.
His brain supplies him with yet another imaginary book, another life he could have led. A life where he wished Simon a happy summer and never got out of the car, spent the summer learning how to be the perfect Crown Prince and was shipped off to Switzerland or somewhere else with a prestigious boarding school. One where waking up every morning would have reminded him of how much he hated it all, how he wasn’t suited to play the role he had unwillingly been cast in. How he’d try and try until the weight of his position became too much and ground him to pieces. How everything around him would have been nothing but a reminder of who he lost, where the only slightly tangible keepsake of Simon was the song he wrote for Wille. A life where we would have spent every waking moment cherishing the memories he had, where he would have spent every second of every day questioning why he didn’t get up and run after the love of his life. Why he gave up without a fight, why he didn’t dare to hope that Simon would give him another chance.
“Wille?” Simon’s quiet voice pierces his consciousness and Wille blinks. The book he was holding now lies on his lap, his place lost when it had slipped from his grip.
“Where did you do?” Simon asks, his dark eyes flitting between Wille’s and filled with concern.
“No,” Wille blurts out instead of answering the question.
Simon’s brow furrows and he tilts his head on the pillow, clearly not understanding what Wille is trying to say.
Wille places the book on the bedside table and slides down on the mattress to lie sideways facing Simon, pushing his arm under the pillow to raise it higher before propping his head on it. “I wouldn’t want to try living all the lives I could have had.”
“Oh,” Simon breathes out the word more than says it. When he continues, there is a questioning look in his eyes. “I thought maybe you’d like to see what it would have been like if…”
Wille knows what Simon is thinking – that he would want nothing more than to get a glimpse of a life where Erik was still living and breathing, a mere phone call away. “I thought about that. About a lot of different lives, actually.”
“But you wouldn’t want to try any of them?”
“No,” Wille confirms. He scoots a little closer, the sheet sticking to his slightly sweaty skin. The early summer heatwave has been relentless and the window they keep open during the night doesn’t do much to help.
“Okay,” Simon agrees, the way he says the word trying to suggest he’s done with the subject. However, the furrow of his brow and the way his teeth are working on the inside of his cheek tell Wille he wants to ask more, wants to ask why.
Wille lifts his hand and lets his fingers ghost over Simon’s temple, down the shell of his ear to sweep his thumb over his cheekbone. He feels Simon melt into the touch and Wille watches his eyes flutter closed. “I wouldn’t want to experience those other lives because I have everything I need in this one. I have the life I want.”
Simon’s eyes snap open, shining bright in the late night light. He exhales and then laughs quietly when he takes in the look on Wille’s face. “You’re such a sap.”
Wille gives him a one shouldered shrug, because there’s no point denying it. “I love you,” he says instead before closing the distance and kissing Simon. “How about you?” he asks when they part. Surely Simon has dreamed of an easier life, would want to see how everything could play out if things didn’t go the way they did when they were younger.
“Would I want to try another life if I ended up in a space between life and death for some reason?”
Wille nods. “Or if you just had the chance.”
Simon slides his foot between Wille’s legs and rests his palm on Wille’s waist, pushing up the tank top he’s wearing. “Nah.”
“No?”
Simon murmurs his answer against Wille’s lips, “No. This one’s good.”