Watching him go, Nathan's expression softened, an ache of longing visible in his eyes. Love, pure and simple, was so easily read, if Jim had bothered to look; in a moment, though, Nathan shuttered it all away, turning his head and moving towards the bedroom.
He hadn't walked into the relationship with much. It only took him a few minutes to pull all of his clothes out of the closet and dump them into a duffel bag, leaving behind the neat, organized rows of Jim's belongings. Nathan hesitated, taking the time to run his fingers along the sleeve of one of Jim's ties, to lean in and breathe deep the smell of him lingering on his jacket. It was a horribly sentimental thing to do, to ghost his hand over Jim's pillow, but Nathan couldn't help himself.
Much more subdued, eyes suspiciously red, he turned to leave the room, trying not to feel the twisting sick realization that he'd never sleep in that bed again.