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Summary
The villa at Lake Como had been a house.
This, here in Mallorca, was a home.
“Carlos,” Charles said after they had settled onto their respective sun loungers, bowls balanced on their laps.
“Hm?” Carlos hummed through his mouthful of pasta.
“Are you happy?” Charles asked. Carlos smiled and stuck his fork back into his bowl. He leaned forward, reaching across the small gap between their chairs, and grabbed Charles’ hands. He lifted them to his mouth and kissed his knuckles in turn before pressing them to his cheeks and huffing a breath of warm air into them.
“I’m more than happy,” he responded after lowering their hands. “You’re here, we’re here. I’m happy.”