If I Never Found You

Xabi doesn't want to begin describing depression. It was a word blindly tossed around by foolish people, one to describe feeling down once in a while. This frustrated Xabi - he was sure he'd be able to cope if his sadness only reared its ugly head 'once in a while'. Instead the depression tore him apart and left a shell where Xabi used to be.

Xabi thought that being diagnosed with clinical depression would change him somehow, but he left the doctor’s appointment feeling like the same old Xabi with the same old messy head. It didn’t change anything – he still struggled to live, if that made sense.

Empty was the only word Xabi could use. Empty eyes, empty smiles, empty Xabi. Normal tasks like washing hair or ironing clothes became too much for him; he gave up, deciding that there was no point anyway. It wasn't like there was ever anybody to kiss Xabi’s tears away or tuck him up in bed when he'd had a rough night. An unbelievable sadness, a gutwrenching sadness that hurt his head and hurt his heart millions of times more, flooded his mind and body, and it became harder for him to drag his heavy bones from his bed.

-

Xabi found himself in a coffee shop, sitting in the window and watching the world go by.

'”This seat taken lad?” a voice broke through his silence.

Xabi looked up in surprise at the man. “No.” he said shortly. 'You can take it if you want.'

“Ah soft lad, I want to sit with you! I don't know yer but yer look pretty down to me and I’ve a hero complex.” the man said with a cheeky grin. “Tell yer what, I’ll get the coffees in and we can chat, yeah? I get it if you tell me to fuck off now, I won't be offended.”

Xabi stared at the man with an open mouth. “Okay,” he found himself whispering (he didn't quite know why) and the man was away ordering more coffee for Xabi’s already haywire brain.

He returned with two cups of cappuccino (“I’ve seen yer drink about 5 cups of espresso and that stuff tastes like wank so get this down your throat,”) and he smiled at Xabi in a way which made his tummy flip.

“I'm Steven by the way,” the man said. “And you are?”

Xabi swallowed, still wide eyed, and shook his head in disbelief. “Xabi.” he finally muttered.

“Ooh that sounds like an exotic name, you from across the pond?”

“Spain but I’ve lived here for most of my life.”

Steven leaned forward in awe and even though he didn't want it to, it warmed Xabi’s heart. “Spain? You’ve gotta tell us more about that, go on.”

And Xabi did, with his cup always full of coffee and his head clear for the first time in ages.

-

It was early evening by the time Xabi and Steven left the coffee shop. The chilly November night skinned their cheeks and froze their fingers as they walked along the streets. It was dark but Xabi felt safe for some reason. He scolded himself for feeling so carefree but he found himself listening to Steven’s voice more than his own.

“Let me walk yer home Xabi, I wanna know you've got home safe,” Steven said to the Spaniard. “It’s dark and I don't want yer to be hurt.”

“Oh Steven,' Xabi sighed, his tongue rolling the s sounds. 'I don't want to be a burden.'

'Don’t talk wet, of course you're not a burden. You would be a burden if you turned up dead and I was the last seen with you,' Steven joked, nudging Xabi’s arm with his elbow. At Xabi’s stricken face, the Scouser moaned and grabbed his shoulders. 'I was only joking lad, I’m sorry if that was distasteful. Let me walk you home.'

Xabi gave in to Steven’s pleading blue eyes. He didn't know what it was about this man but he felt strangely safe when he was around him, like nothing (especially himself) could touch him.

They talked more on the trek to Xabi’s apartment. They spoke of Xabi’s family, of work, of football. They spoke of everything but Xabi.

Xabi turned to Steven once they reached his block of apartments. They stared at each other, Xabi suddenly becoming extremely shy.

'Thank you for today, it was very nice.' he said timidly, not quite meeting Steven’s eye.

'Not a worry lad. It might seem like I’m being pushy but I was really hoping we could see each other again, maybe? Is that possible d'yer think?' Steven muttered. He stepped forward and grasped Xabi's hands protectively.

'Of - of course that would be nice Steven,' Xabi stammered. 'But I’m bad news you know, I’m n-not right.'

'Fuck that Xabi, you're talking wet. Now give me your phone number and I’ll ring you when I want to wine you and dine you.'

Numbers were exchanged but Xabi thought nothing of it. He knew that Steven would throw his number away like everyone else did.

Steven kissed his forehead goodnight and Xabi watched him walk away, a strange pain in his chest as he realised how special that man could have been.

-

Xabi’s phone didn’t ring for another week or so. He tried to make his heart stop hurting, he really did, but it all seemed in vain when he realised that this is what he thought would happen anyway. He was Xabi, the one who had chances but couldn’t take them for fear of breaking his heart. He disappeared into a fog of grief where his head felt too heavy for his shoulders to support.

And then, out of the blue, Steven rang.

Xabi answered his phone wearily. ‘Hello?’

‘Xabi I’m so sorry for not ringing yer, will yer forgive me?” Steven’s apologetic voice pleaded from the speaker. He sounded near to tears, his voice wobbling.

“It’s okay if you didn’t want to meet up again,” Xabi said nervously, laughing despite the tears in his eyes.

Steven exhaled down the phone. “Fuck Xabi, I never meant to give yer that impression, I swear to you. I just – oh fuck Xabi. Are you free tonight?”

“Si,’ he said quietly.

“Coffee shop where I first saw you at around 8?”

So Xabi found himself in the coffee shop again, sipping on espresso and staring out of the window into the dreary night.

-

As soon as Steven reached their table, he pressed a kiss to Xabi’s cheek and ordered two cappuccinos from the young waitress who leaned grumpily on her mop as she took his order.

“I’ve gotta get you out of this habit of drinking espressos Xabi,” Steven joked. Xabi noticed how his eyes crinkled when he laughed; they were a gorgeous blue and he found himself staring at Steven’s face when he wasn’t looking. “How have you been then?”

“Okay.” Xabi said because he didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t want to admit that Steven had pushed him further into the darkness for a while so ‘okay’ seemed a good measure.

“Just okay?” Steven asked with his eyebrows knitted in concern.

“Si, just okay.”

“Listen Xabi, I know you barely know me and I wouldn’t be shocked if you turned around and told me to do one, but you look so sad, and I can’t be doing with that. So I’ve brought you for coffee and I want you to talk.” Steven said with his hands gripping his cup tightly.

“Do one then Steven, I don’t want to waste your time.”

“Oh fuck off, can’t you see Xabi? I can’t walk away from you. I tried with that week where I didn’t ring you, Lord knows I tried to stop myself but you’re special Xabi. Fuck, you just need to believe it, yeah?”

Xabi shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He stared out of the window where rain had started to trail down the panes of glasses and he watched a raindrop dribble and merge into another. Anything but looking at Steven.

“I’m not special Steven.” He finally says quietly. “I’m just Xabi, si? The Xabi who puts his head in the sand and waits for everything to disappear.” The Spaniard bowed his head and willed the telltale prickle of tears to go away.

“Oh Xabi,” Steven muttered. In a split second, he threw down the money for their drinks and pulled Xabi gently by the hand outside the coffee shop. “You’re coming back to mine, yeah?”

Xabi could do nothing but let himself be taken away, his chest hurting and his head pounding that little bit more.

-

Xabi slept easy that night, his head rested on Steven’s chest and his fingers curled around the edge of his jumper, as if letting go were never an option.

-

Xabi doesn't forget how he felt before Steven. He remembered the way he used to cry until he slept for days, the way his eyes stared blankly at anyone who tried to speak to him. He remembered being nothing but a shell.

Depression had always been the main part of his life to the extent where he planned his days around the illness but everything seemed so light when he was with Steven. Before, he would describe himself as 'just Xabi' who was 'just okay' and in a matter of months, that had changed.

In the cheekiest, corniest and Disney-filmish way possible, Steven was his rock.

In a way, Steven had helped Xabi to get better. He was still awfully fragile and vulnerable - he knew that the sadness he used to feel could knock the wind from him at any point. But this, if anything, gave Steven more determination to protect Xabi from himself. Depression was new to Steven (it had been in an episode of Holby City once) so he was as clueless as Xabi, but perhaps that was how they worked so well together. They bounced off each other.

There were so many times where Xabi came close to ending it. He was moments away from taking twenty too many pills or pressing the razor blade a tiny bit harder against his vein, but he always stopped himself. The rational side of Xabi always said there was someone somewhere waiting to love Xabi. He found it easy to believe now why he always put faith in his rational side.
-

Xabi stared at the ceiling and he felt the sting of tears at the corners of his eyes. He sniffed and pressed his face to Steven’s shoulder in an attempt to hide himself but Steven noticed.

'What are yer crying for sweetheart?' he asked in concern. He kissed Xabi’s nose and his eyelids, whispering the words 'don't cry' to him softly.

Xabi blushed through his tears. His hands gripped Steven’s tightly and he explained. "They’re not bad tears Steven, I promise you they're not."

"What are they then? I don't want you to be sad Xabs,"

"It’s just...here and now with you Steven, I’m happy.' Xabi whimpered. 'Just happy, not thinking about the next time I’m going to go loco or whatever, just happy.'

'That’s good Xabs, isn't it?'

'Steven, do you know how long I’ve waited to be happy?' he paused to wait for Steven’s answer. When the Scouser shook his head sheepishly, he continued. 'So long Steven, I never thought I’d stop being sad.'

Steven stared at the man in front of him; he studied his face with his beautiful eyes and the reddish stubble that Steven secretly loved and Steven struggled to see how something so beautiful could have been so broken.

'I will fix you Xabi,' he said suddenly. He kissed him and everything he wanted to say but couldn't was crammed into the kiss.

'There’s no need Steven,' Xabi smiled. Steven’s tummy swooped and he knew he'd never seen anything as beautiful.

'Xabi?'

'You’ve already fixed me amor.' Xabi muttered. He kissed him, pressing his hips to Steven’s in an attempt to be closer. Xabi thought that he wanted to unzip Steven's skin and get inside but even then they wouldn't be close enough.

Tears began to fall down Steven's cheek. He hugged Xabi as tight as his arms would let him, his kisses raining down on Xabi's neck. "Oh god Xabi, I came so close to not having you didn't I?"

"What is it that you always call me? Soft git? Is that correct?"

Steven laughed despite his tears and nodded. "Yeah and y'are a soft git Xabi. It’s just as well that you're my soft git isn't it?"

He took Xabi into his arms again and they lay back together; it was when Steven's tears started again that Xabi realised it was his turn to wipe salty tears from soft skin and hold Steven close, and he did just that until the sun burst across the sky hours later.