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Summary
“Please,” Rieux began, his voice strained, “be careful. It does make a difference…”
The difference between the moon and a black hole eating up the stars, he thought feverishly.
Tarrou smiled as he leaned closer, kissing him on the mouth as smoothly and precisely as he turned sharp corners while driving or crossed out names on a list, hands always steady and light and utterly unfaltering. And Rieux wanted then, desperately, to be guided by his sure, steady hands - just for a moment, and to follow with his mind a blank slate, dark and calm and looked to by no one.
