Work Text:
Exceptions are inherent in biology. As a freshly-minted researcher struggling to make ends meet, Sunoo knows this all too well. He just spent four years of his undergrad trying to understand the inner workings of life after all.
At least that's how he’d like to put it, if understanding the inner workings of life means the feeling of overwhelming incapacity; watching everyone move ahead of you while you trail on the course as slow as a slug; working in a remote area for a research you are not even an expert in simply because you needed the money.
Among the brilliant kids of this world, lining the shore like colored pebbles, Sunoo feels like an exception. An unremarkable thing on the sand who once thought himself special to warrant success from life. The waves humbled him enough.
Now, he keeps his heart low; tucked nicely into the pockets of his work pants among the other things he casually avoids when he reaches for his tools during fieldwork.
Jay thinks the world has so much to offer, especially for people like him. There’s plenty of work for his steady hands: fixing fences for the neighbors, helping his uncle haul off fish from their small boats, selling their catch, and drying some of them for future use.
When he was younger, he used to dream of leaving. Everyone else that lived in this side of Sarangani are no strangers to lofty visions of the city. Somehow, it felt like success if one managed to leave their small town and marry into families within the siyudad .
He fought tooth and nail with his father; not wanting to spend the rest of his life at the mercy of the waters. Surely, he was born to be something more than a fisherman at sea.
But Jay watched his own mother leave and never come back. He was too young to understand then. He thought the city eats everyone alive; chews them up and never spits them out.
He is no longer young now. He is no longer afforded the same naivety. He learned that being left is just as violent as leaving.
He didn't have the heart to do that to his father.
Still, Jay believes there are plenty of good things in the world for people like him. He has to, or else he’ll sink into his own fears like a boat loaded with holes.
He works well into midnight until the early mornings. When he’s not at sea, he’s helping his father sort out complaints in a tiny shack they all consider their barangay hall.
It is not the life he dreamed of having. But people like him don't have much to choose from, so they hold whatever is in front of them in a white-knuckled grip.
The first thing he thinks upon waking up is this: life is a sucker for routines. The universe thrives in all of its rules. The sun rises and sets at predictable times. The Earth follows a set path as it undergoes its revolution. It is tilted at a constant angle that affects the distribution of light. Every few months, the seasons come and go as they must.
Plenty of these things hang by their invisible rules, with little changes every millennium.
Sunoo once thought he could change the world. It's embarrassing to think of it now when he can barely change himself out of his own pajamas and into his work clothes.
It humbles him further to think that forces greater than him take even a million years to change the world. How could he have done that, and why did everyone around him make him believe he could?
They must have been humoring him as a kid, because they sure weren't extending the same leniency and faith when he was an adult.
His phone pings. Sunoo knows immediately what it is for.
When he peers through the email their head researcher sends them, he was halfway through his breakfast.
[Seedlings are ready. Meet up at 7 AM.]
He scans through the whole text and only picks out the most important part: the mangrove seedlings they worked hard to nurse are ready to be planted.
They were to deliver it to a coastal town in Sarangani and guide the locals in planting the propagules.
The specific town they are delivering it to spans the tip of the island, down where it is most vulnerable to raging storms.
It was the tidal surge that raged the upper part of the country and the dwindling mangrove population in the area that forced the local government to invest in this reforestation project.
Sunoo could swear nothing will move a human being except the desperation for his own safety. Nevermind the many times his neighbor called for help.
Still, it's better than not moving at all. He cannot begrudge them that.
Sunoo’s work in the project was largely in the laboratory, trying to manipulate mangrove DNA and make it adaptable to the drastic changes in the pH levels of the ocean.
All big words. All little money.
It used to make him happy. Sometimes he can still take out that happiness, like a toy once hidden in the deepest corner of his drawer and accidentally pulled out when looking for a sock to wear.
He’s waiting for the day it makes him happy again.
These days, it's only nostalgia he’s holding on; the once happiness he had and he’s craving for.
When Sunoo arrives at the meeting place, his co-researchers are already hauling the plant to a small vehicle lent to them by the LGU.
The head of their team was nowhere to be seen. Presumably talking to local officials about their plans, or already on site and making arrangements. Heeseung always did things on his own terms, often at the expense of their communication.
At least Sunoo wasn't alone.
Jake was gently arranging the seedlings in neat lines inside the multicab. Jungwon was trying to strike a conversation about the weather again while counting the seedlings with a clipboard in hand.
Sunoo hopes one of them would just get a hint; either the obtuse older marine biologist or the younger mangrove botanist who’s a bigger flirt than possibly anyone he can name.
It would give him peace. Maybe resolve the weird sexual tension anytime Jake and Jungwon have to work together in the field.
Sunoo lets out a long-suffering sigh when Jungwon throws a pickup line that absolutely goes over Jake’s head.
These people . He was almost disgusted, almost, if he also wasn't fond of them both.
It was past three in the afternoon by the time they planted almost all of the mangrove seedlings.
The sun was beating harshly on Jay’s naked back; his sweat running down from his brow to his eyes. Every time he hunches down to plant the seedlings in the mud, the salt gets through his lashes and stings. When he tried to wipe it with his arms, he only managed to get more of it all over his face.
One of the women on the shore called him over and offered to wipe his sweat for him. She was fair and kind, with gentle hands and an even gentler smile.
When Jay walked closer, a few of the men hooted, but he only washed his hands on the raging waves. He reached for the towel, stepping back when she tried to wipe his face with it.
“I can manage.” He smiled.
Jay was among the men and women his father recruited to help a group of scientists replant mangroves in their area. They’ve been briefed about it weeks before, when the environmental office informed their local officials.
It’s a good project, Jay thinks. The weather has been getting unpredictable lately and typhoons are much stronger than they were in the past.
It was explained to them that mangrove forests help displace the force and impact of tidal waves. It is a form of protection in the cases where typhoons trigger surges.
So when his father asked for helping hands, Jay was the first one to write his name down on the list.
But it wasn't that alone. It wasn't only because he believed in the importance of reforestation or volunteering for his community or was moved by fear of daluyong-bagyo .
When Jay finishes wiping his face down, he turns around and finds the main reason.
There, in the middle of the mudflats and the seedlings sticking up to the hot afternoon sun, was a pair of brown eyes looking back at him.
The person it belongs to tenses and looks away. But the heat on his cheeks brings a smile to Jay’s face.
Kim Sunoo.
The first time he met him, the researcher was collecting soil samples.
At first, Jay thought the man was an apparition by the shore.
Sunoo was wearing black cargo pants and a white shirt, dutifully hunched over the mudflats close to where only a few mangrove trees were standing.
Despite his hair covering his eyes, he was distractingly beautiful. Jay could tell even from a distance. The pale skin of his cheeks were red from being under the sun for too long.
The man was so focused on what he was doing he didn't even move when a large wave crests the shore and drenches him from shoulder down. There was only a mild frown on his face when the sample he collected in his small cup was washed away.
Jay just came back from hauling fish. He was certain at first he was imagining him due to dehydration.
But when the man stands up and moves seaward, Jay walks towards him without thinking.
“Need help?”
When the man looks over to him, eyes wide and lips parted, Jay thinks his brain shrivels up a little. Yeah, I must be dehydrated .
Because how the fuck is the tip of his nose a pretty shade of red too?
And why are his eyes in that color?
Have moles ever looked that pretty on a person?
Jay considered asking if he was half a creature of the ocean when the man spoke up.
“No. Thank you for the offer.”
His tone was curt. There was not even a smile. It was a complete shutdown of what would have been the beginnings of a conversation. And Jay thinks he’s usually good at conversations. But when the man walked further away, there was nothing he could do.
He would meet him again in their barangay hall. He would learn his name is Kim Sunoo and that he is working with his team to reforest this area of Sarangani with mangroves.
In the span of their ocular visits to check the soil and coastal conditions of the area, Jay has managed to befriend the others.
Jungwon was easy-going, if not a bit of a flirt. He was most especially flirty to Jake, who was nice despite his tendency to talk your ear off about his area of expertise. And since he specializes in marine biology, Jay has taken him a few times to go fishing. To which, Jungwon of course had to tag along.
Jay had befriended even their team leader. Heeseung didn't say much. A pretty chill guy, if Jay was to be asked. But he was somehow always in Sunoo’s space.
Out of all of them, it’s only Sunoo he barely interacted with, much to his dismay.
So of course, when the opportunity to be around him presented itself, Jay took it by the neck.
He slings the towel on his shoulder and walks closer to where Sunoo was.
The researcher was having a hard time walking around some of the propagules they planted. The mud was knee-deep and one had to make the effort of pulling their feet all the way up to make a step.
When Sunoo makes the wrong step and nearly crushes a seedling, Jay has his arms out for him.
“Thank you.”
“It's nothing. Just be careful around this area. The mud is deeper here.”
Sunoo just looks away, a frown on his face and blush on his cheeks. His fingers are warm on Jay’s arm.
“You’re hot.” Jay points out.
“What?”
It was only when he repeated it a second time that Jay realized his phrasing.
“I mean, are you… you must be hot. I mean, it is hot and you must be hot too, which is to say… you–”
“I get it.”
Jay rubs his hands on the back of his neck. “I mean, we’ve got water here.”
“Good for you.”
“What?”
“I am hot.” Sunoo says instead, fingers leaving Jay’s hands once he’s on steady ground.
Jay almost chokes from the statement. He stutters a coherent reply but before he can finish, Sunoo beats him to it.
“–which is to say, I appreciate your offer for water.”
The researcher walks ahead of him to the group of people on the shore where a jug of water was placed on a monobloc chair.
Sunoo was halfway through filling his cup when Jay caught up with him.
There's a small smile on the researcher’s lips. Was he teasing him?
“You're here.”
A warm voice draws Sunoo’s attention from the pebble he is turning over in his palms.
“I am here.” He confirms, returning a small smile of his own.
Jay scoots over to where Sunoo was seated in the sand. And even if there was plenty of space spanning the shore, he sat close enough so that their shoulders were one lean away.
The waves of the ocean barely kiss their toes.
It’s been four weeks since the replanting project finished. From time to time, Sunoo’s team still conducts ocular inspections.
This is one of those days where he was the one assigned. He was supposed to do it with Jungwon, but the younger researcher decided he was sick today; sick enough to ask for leave but not sick enough to accompany Jake to go downtown for supplies.
Sunoo didn't have the energy to argue and just went alone.
Usually, when their work for the day wraps up, the other researchers immediately get back to their assigned office in the city.
Sunoo, however, stays well into the afternoon. He stays until the sun disappears in the horizon.
He likes talking to the locals, learning more about the place and the environment from their lived experiences. He likes helping the kids collect shells from the shore, even if he was awkward with them sometimes. He was always the youngest wherever he went, and so Sunoo didn't know how to deal with people younger than him. Especially people younger than him that's bound to throw a tantrum.
Sometimes, he spends his day watching the old women weave nets for fishing. He also helps the mothers make bracelets and necklaces from the shells their kids collected.
But most of all, Sunoo likes sitting out on the beach and watching the sunset.
At first, he thought he simply liked the fact that he gets to be alone with his thoughts. There were only the waves crashing to the shore. Sometimes the laughter of children playing tag occasionally disrupts the silence. But even that adds color to the day ending.
These days, however, he’s grown to appreciate the familiar warmth beside him.
It is good to be alone with his thoughts, but it's good to be alone with someone sometimes.
Jay nudges him by the shoulder, a finger pointing to the pebble in his palm.
“What’s that for?”
Sunoo holds it up, turning over the rock in his hand. It was gray with flecks of black, calcium carbonate, usually made from sediments and predictably abundant in the ocean.
“Nothing remarkable.” He responds.
“Why did you pick it up then?”
“Have you ever been attached to a rock?”
At this, Jay quirks a brow; the beginnings of a smile ghosting his face.
“I don't suppose I have. But I guess different folks have different strokes.”
“I’m not kidding.”
“I don't suppose you are.”
Sunoo bites his lip, trying to hold back the words. But then it's Jay.
From the short time they’ve known each other, he’s always extended Sunoo an incredible amount of patience; from waiting for him to open up to understanding even the times when Sunoo gets overwhelmed and hides in his blanket of silence.
“It’s just that… I have this tendency.” He begins. “It's nothing big really. But I get attached to things I feel like… things that are… not quite the first picks.”
“The underdogs?”
“Not exactly.”
Sunoo uses the pebble to draw circles in the sand, his eyes cast down, refusing Jay’s curious ones.
“...or not always anyway. Sometimes I feel like everybody deserves love. And by that, even the least precious things.”
“That’s nice.”
“It's not out of niceness. It's not what you think.”
Jay scoots closer. He puts his hand out to hold Sunoo’s chin, but Sunoo looks away.
“If not out of niceness, what is it out of, then?”
“I’m not sure. I don't know.” The sand was filled with circles now, arcs overlapping and barely discernible from each other. Still, Sunoo continued to draw.
“When I did volunteer work back in College, there was this one kid in our high school remedial project. This kid, he struggled much more than the rest. It took him very long to catch up. He read slowly despite months of tutors putting in work.”
Jay finds Sunoo’s fingers in the sand, the one he was not using for drawing, and he lightly brushes his own fingers above those.
Somehow, it felt like an assurance to continue.
“It didn't help that he was stubborn. He barely listened and did things when he wanted to. All the tutors tried to avoid him.” Sunoo looks up at Jay, offering a smile. “But I felt like he was just afraid. He just didn't know how to ask for help… or must have been embarrassed to constantly be the runt of the litter.”
When Sunoo smiles, it wrinkles his eyes into two fine crescents. This time, however, it didn't.
“Out of all the tutors, I think I tried the hardest with him. People think I was patient. People praised me for being kind. But the truth is…”
Jay was looking at him, waiting for the answer.
"The truth is?"
The fingers that were ghosting over Sunoo’s own were now holding his pinky; pressing and letting it go then doing it all over again.
“The truth is, I was no different than him. I was… I saw a version of me in that kid. I was always trying, Jay. Always trying harder than the rest. I thought that would mean… it would mean something. But in the end,” A bitter expression on his face.
“...well, in the end, it's not just like that, right? You can try all you want. But if you are born unremarkable like me, you die unremarkable. You live your life shadowed by other people.”
“That's not true.”
“You're just as old as I am, even a year older. You know it's true.”
“Even if it is, I have to disagree.”
“That when you are born unremarkable, you die unremark–”
“That you are unremarkable.”
Sunoo stills, the circle he was drawing staggering to a C.
“You are one of the most remarkable people I have ever met, Sunoo.”
For half a heartbeat, Sunoo thinks of turning away, pulling his hand out of Jay’s warm hold. But there was nothing to run to, is there?
Wherever he goes to this beach, he’ll always be haunted by Jay.
“You don't have to be nice.” Sunoo says instead, averting his gaze.
“I am not being nice. I mean it.”
Jay tries to turn Sunoo’s eyes to him again, his warm hands holding his elbows and then his chin. Sunoo lets him.
“It's okay if you feel unremarkable, Sunoo. The sunset probably doesn't know it's beautiful.”
“Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“You don't have to make me feel good, Jay. I am not the sunset. I am simply a pebble in the sand.”
“Like the one in your hand?”
“Like the one in my hand.” Sunoo agrees.
“What's wrong with it? It’s kinda cute.”
“Stop it, I said.”
Jay chuckles at the frown decorating Sunoo’s brows and how it contrasted with the pink dusting his cheeks.
He resists the urge to pinch those cheeks, instead letting his hand fall back to Sunoo’s own hands, covering it where it lay in the sand.
“What’s wrong with being unremarkable anyway?”
Jay doesn't wait for an answer. “I am not remarkable. I did not finish College like you, did not go to a prestigious university like you, is not doing fancy work like you–”
“It's different, Jay. It's–”
“–not too different. I will not live a big life like someone is probably doing in some other part of the world, Sunoo. I may not even make a name for myself. I will not be written down in history books like heroes are. I will spend my days here in this unremarkable town fishing and making ends meet. I will probably marry.” Jay pauses at this. “But all the same, I won't be living a life that will be considered remarkable enough for the rest of the world.”
“That's not true.”
“Are you echoing my words now?”
Sunoo slaps him on the shoulder. Jay only laughs.
“That's not true, Jay. You are different.”
“How so?”
“You are kind.”
“I’m not very kind when I’m teasing you, am I?”
Sunoo doesn't rise up to the bait. But he recounts all the times Jay has shown remarkable strength, patience, and gentleness. The early mornings he would run up to help the neighbors with their catch even if he had barely finished with his own net. The late afternoons he spent fixing boats that weren't his own. He would gather wood to give to the grandma across his home because she was too old to fetch her own firewood. Sunoo recalls how Jay would help the kids sell their shell bracelets and necklaces in the market, not marking up the price and getting his own profit.
He has an incredible amount of love stirring in his bones, and Sunoo sees it the most with the way he interacts with his father; with the way he puts down even the most basic of his interests for his father's happiness.
By the time Sunoo finishes, he was winded up, heaving from all the emotions trying to burst out of his chest like rushing water out of a broken dam.
“Well, I didn't think you thought that highly of me, Sunoo.”
Jay was wearing a big grin on his face, equal parts smug and boyish.
“Don’t make me take it back!”
“Even if you do, I’ve already heard it. Nothing you do will stop me from taking it to the grave with me.”
“You're so annoying.” He says, but there was only fondness in Sunoo’s expression.
“It doesn't change anything though.” Jay speaks after a moment of silence. “I will still live an unremarkable life. Plenty of us will, Sunoo. Plenty of us will live little lives.”
Sunoo looks down on the long-forgotten pebble in his hand. He tries to clean it off from the sand that clung to its tip.
Jay continues. “We are all unremarkable.”
“Not you. I don't believe it.”
“Including me. Maybe most especially me, Sunoo. If you think I am remarkable… Well, only the people who truly see us think we are never unremarkable, don't you think?”
When Sunoo turns to him, his eyes are wide.
“Most of us live a very mundane existence. We are only truly remarkable when we are seen, when our lives entangle with other people's lives, when we are loved, or… all of those things at once.”
Sunoo’s breath rattles harshly in his lungs. It felt difficult to push in the air, as if there was no space for oxygen because all of it was taken up by Jay’s words.
Sunoo learned a long time ago that roots display positive geotropism. It’s supposed to mean they grow downwards because they follow gravity. Even hanging plants like orchids abide by this rule, their roots always traveling down no matter how high up in the trees they were.
But life is always littered with exceptions. Mangroves, for example, defy this rule.
Instead of growing downwards like all the others, their roots rise out of the saline water and into the air, as if their center of gravity is up where the sky is.
At that moment, Sunoo felt like a mangrove whose roots had found their center of gravity. Instead of the soil swallowing him whole, he felt like he had risen out of the sea water; shaking and gasping for breath. His center of gravity shifting not to the sand beneath his feet but to the person whose kind eyes are looking at him.
The sunset was reflected into those eyes. And for once, Sunoo truly understood what it's like to feel warm.
“You are remarkable to me, Sunoo… and if… if I had the right to presume, I am remarkable to you as well.”
“You have the right… I… you are remarkable to me, I mean.”
“And even if we are unremarkable, it's okay.”
“It’s okay?”
“Don't sound so unconvinced.”
“It isn't very convincing to be unremarkable as a pebble on the shore. But… maybe you’ve managed to swindle me.”
“We can be two unremarkable pebbles on the shore, then.”
“Don't jest!”
“I mean it, Sunoo. We can just be pebbles on this shore, you and I. It doesn't matter if we are unremarkable, so long as we know each other's existence, it is enough.”
“Don't… don't say that.”
“Why not?”
“You don't mean it, Jay.”
“I do. In fact, if pebbles had hands, I’d even hold yours so you know I am not going to allow you to be unremarkable on your own.”
“Pebbles don't have hands.”
“But we do.”
Sunoo thinks there are so many things that could come crawling out from the ocean.
He thinks the soil, and especially mangrove estuaries, are rich in bacteria that may be both beneficial and opportunistic. In fact, bacteria may grow on the very surface of the sands slipping through his toes and clinging to his skin.
It should worry him, but when Jay flicks his tongue inside his mouth all Sunoo could think of was how warm that tongue is. Jay’s large and rough hands tracing patterns on his hips, on his stomach, on the lines of his ribs.
His head and spine hurts where it is pressed against a mangrove tree. Against a mangrove tree they were working so hard to preserve!
What will his teammates tell him if they knew two months into his ocular visits, he’s getting smothered by a handsome man over a mangrove tree?
After that fateful day at the beach, it has become their routine to inspect the mangroves together. Jay would always offer to accompany Sunoo, going deeper into the trees than usual.
It has become their routine to check the seedlings first and go into the thick of the older mangroves where there are less prying eyes; where Jay gets more touchy. This has become their routine too: the hands all over his body and the lips bruising his own with kisses that threaten to devour him whole.
It should embarrass him. It would have, if Jay didn't put his palms out to cup the tent on his pants and suddenly the whole world is spinning off-kilter.
He stops thinking and dissolves into a puddle in Jay’s nimble fingers.
People can be beautiful like sunsets. This is one thing they do not tell you.
Jay thinks it is to preserve a sense of discovery in an otherwise predictable world. Maybe the rest of those who discovered this truth were simply misers, afraid of sharing. But Jay knows now and he isn't afraid of letting it out.
People can be beautiful like sunsets. You’d think that means they’d be vibrant or that they have a smile that warms you on the inside.
But people can be beautiful like sunsets, which is to say no matter how many times you’ve seen a sunset, it still knocks your breath away.
It forces you to slow down regardless of whatever you are rushing for and wherever you are rushing towards.
Sunsets compel you to look up and pause. It is the liquid warmth that courses through your body at the sight of bleeding reds and oranges and yellows in the horizon. Almost akin to hope.
People can be beautiful like that. Jay thinks Sunoo is beautiful like that.
And it's not everyday you hold a beauty like that in your hands.
Jay doesn't think he can let go.
It’s been three months into the research and Sunoo has formed the habit of staying by the coastal town for longer than usual, even going as far as to sleep in the place.
Heeseung frowned upon it many times over. Their team leader would often accompany him. On the days he can't, he would force either Jungwon or Jake to stay with him in town.
But there was little they could do when Sunoo wanted to remain after their tasks. They can't say much either when they notice their teammate's growing relationship with one of the locals.
It was in those mornings when Sunoo chose to sleep in Jay’s place that he woke up early, roused by the empty space beside him.
When he looked all over the room and into the open window of the small cottage, he saw a silhouette by the shore.
Sunoo should join him. He usually does in the mornings Jay is not out at sea.
But instead of accompanying him by the beach where Jay was nursing a cup of coffee and waiting for the sun to rise, Sunoo stayed in bed. His hand reaches under the pillow and opens a familiar email sent to him a few days ago.
It was a confirmation of his research grant. In bold letters, the word Congratulations! was written before his name.
His own research.
Not Heeseung’s. Not anyone else’s.
His own work.
He can head his own team.
He’ll be given funding for his own studies.
The prospect scares him a little. It is the kind of fear you feel when you know something is about to change your life and you don't know if it's for the better or for the worse. All you know is you have to walk inside the storm to find out the answer.
He wants to walk inside that storm.
He wants to see the other side.
It’s almost the same youthful giddiness he felt when he first stepped in his dream University, knowing he was going to be something.
It was almost the same naive hope he had as a kid, certain there is a force within him that could light the world if he wanted to.
He wouldn't feel all these things, wouldn't have had the courage to send that application months ago, had it not been for Jay.
Jay.
When his eyes fall on the email again, Sunoo rereads the word that makes him stop. It was the same word that lodged in his throat last night and the days before, stopping him from sharing the news to Jay.
Switzerland.
How is he ever gonna break this news to him?
The early morning was cold and every time the ocean waves kissed the shore, a spray of saltwater hit Jay. He doesn't mind.
The coffee and the body leaning against him warmed him enough.
Sunoo was drawing circles on the sand again, holding a pebble he picked from the shore.
The scene looked all too familiar. Jay had to bite his lips to stop from smiling too wide.
He wanted to hold him, pinch his cheeks where he knew Sunoo’s dimples would be. But his hands cannot cup his lover’s face yet. Not when it was busy folding two thin strips of palm leaves.
Sunoo asked him what it was for, to which he only smiled; patting the sand beside him to keep his beloved close.
Jay’s fingers were nimble, turning over the leaves this way and that. He thought he’d forgotten the method, same with the memories of his own mother.
It was his mother who taught him how to fold palm leaves into flowers. It was her who instructed him to decorate her hair with shells, stringing them together like beads. It was from his mother that Jay loved cooking. It was her too, who left and taught Jay plenty of other things about leaving.
Jay makes the final fold and the strips of palm leaves in his hand are gone, replaced by a perfect rose.
He holds it out to Sunoo.
His lover only looks up at him, stars in his wide eyes.
Jay tucks the flower gently by Sunoo’s ear. He thinks it is no match to the smile breaking on Sunoo’s face like dawn breaking out of the long night.
He loves him.
He’s in love with him.
Jay realizes; the truth settling in his body like tiny little earthquakes.
He loves him.
He’s in love with him.
But Jay is not naive.
He wishes he was. If he was naive, it would be easy to believe. Instead he thinks, with a thunderous beat of his heart, he is like my mother .
And the words he refuses to say, he too will leave .