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There was a rumour going around Krat recently. That the manor sitting on the edge of town, the overgrown and vacant building that loomed menacingly over the nearby woods, was in fact haunted. Nobody was really sure where the rumour originated from, nor when it really started, however it spread like wildfire through the lower districts. Enough so that children, especially the orphans who spent their days on the streets, began exploring the manor grounds, daring one another to take a peak inside the building and frightening each other silly.
Romeo’s friends were no different than the rest. They had talked him into it really. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t have done so. Not because he was particularly afraid, nor did he even believe in such supernatural nonsense as ghosts and ghouls, but because it simply did not interest him.
Even as he stood outside, the woods behind him, the solid black stone of the manor house looming over him, he really had little interest in going inside. Yet his friends stood at the edge of the woods and yelled lighthearted insults his way, demanding he step inside fully for at least a full ten minutes. Then his turn for the challenge would be complete.
A sigh slipped from Romeo’s lips as he pushed on the gilded door of the massive structure. It was heavy and his muscles burned with the pressure, but the doors eventually swung open. It was unlocked.
The immediate smell of decay hit and Romeo scrunched his nose up. The foyer was half empty, what had been sitting inside must have been looted ages ago, and what was left was rotting. Damp damage left old fabrics soggy and ruined and the few paintings still hanging on the walls were moulding, decay running deep through the hall.
Less than he was frightened by the potential for ghouls to jump out, Romeo didn’t wish to contract any sort of disease from lingering in the stale air too long. He stepped around the shattered glass and broken vases on the floor and approached the rusty staircase. Once upon a time it was probably magnificent, bright and shining, the home to some important people. Now it only sat rotting, lost to time.
Romeo glanced at his watch. His friends had said ten minutes and then he could leave. He rolled his shoulders and spun on his heel, examining the dark twisting hallways that branched from either side of the foyer. There was no need to explore. Simply standing here for ten minutes and leaving would satisfy his friends and Romeo could move on from this eerie place.
The wind howled through broken windows but even so Romeo could distantly hear the chattering of his friends, laughing as they decided who would be next to brave the terror. It was less terrifying than it was sad. A beautiful building that could have rivaled the stunning opera house once upon a time, completely tarnished. Not even renovation would save this place, only complete destruction would ever see the land beautiful again.
A sudden noise in the otherwise quiet hall caught Romeo’s attention. Something like the patter of feet. As if another had breached the open door and quickly ducked out of sight down the hallway. Romeo wouldn’t put it past some of his friends. But Romeo wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of calling out or approaching, only to be met with them jumping out in an attempt to scare him. Instead he watched quietly as the seconds ticked away.
Another sound, gentle footsteps, behind him this time. Romeo turned with the full expectation to see one of his friends. So when his eyes came face to face with a pale figure he did not recognise, Romeo could not help but startle.
He jumped back, his heart leaping up and his eyes unfocused. He pushed as much distance between him and the stranger as possible. The door was within sight, he could easily run.
“Wait.” A low voice called, almost sweet, as if sensing Romeo’s desire to run.
Romeo stilled and straightened his back, his wide eyes refocusing in the darkness. Not a creature or a spectre of any kind but a human. A boy, perhaps his own age, with pale skin and dark hair.
“You scared me.” Romeo placed a hand to his chest as he breathed out relief. Though he didn’t recognise the boy at all. His clothes were all beautifully tailored fabrics and perfectly fitted, a rich kid perhaps?
The boy gave him an unreadable expression back, his eyes a pleasingly dark amber colour as he watched.
Romeo cleared his throat. “Did you get dared to come in here too?”
“Dared?” The boy questioned. As he shook his head his slight curls fluttered with him. “I live here.”
Romeo scoffed. What a ridiculous joke. He could already see it, that his friends had likely put this boy up to whatever gag he was going for. But he had to admit he was curious exactly how far this would go. So instead of calling him out for such a silly plan, Romeo decided to just play along.
He smiled, warm. “Alright. I should apologise then? I’m trespassing.”
“You are.” The boy shrugged, “But it’s fine. Father’s not home.”
Something akin to a chill passed across Romeo’s body, a wave of cold air from the door perhaps. His smile dipped only slightly and he glanced aside to the still open doorway. He couldn’t quite see outside.
“Actually, I—” the boy stepped forward though there was clear hesitation on his face. “Since you’re here would you… play with me, for a while?”
Romeo blinked slowly. His heartbeat sped up and he swallowed down what little saliva was in his mouth. Something felt… a little off.
“Play what?” Romeo asked, curiosity creeping up on him.
The boy gave him another shrug and his previously pouty lips curled upwards. His gentle gaze and soft smile seemed to displace the tremble of discomfort that had begun crawling up Romeo’s spine. Something about him was off, for sure, yet Romeo could not feel any malicious intent. Maybe he was just a sucker for a sweet face.
“Whatever you want.” The boy replied, stepping fully out of the darkness and approaching Romeo’s side. “It’s nice to have company. Father never plays with me.”
When the boy offered out his hand to Romeo, he should have left there and then. Yet something about the softness of that smile and the aching loneliness beneath dark amber eyes had him taking it instead. The boy squeezed his hand lightly and turned to walk them into one of the dark hallways.
The silence was deafening the further they walked. Only Romeo’s own throbbing heartbeat seemed to echo amidst the darkness. The hallways were winding, the decor decaying much like in the foyer and the more they walked the less aware Romeo was of his surroundings. He couldn’t quite remember the path back.
“What’s your name?” The boy asked him as he marched them ahead.
“Romeo.”
“Oh, beautiful.” The boy commented with a smile. “I’m Carlo.”
Romeo swallowed around the lump formed in his throat. Carlo’s smile was soft and his face easy on the eyes, there was something off behind it all, but the pulsing nausea Romeo felt seemed to settle just by looking at him. Like not a single thing was wrong.
Carlo opened a door that sat beside a large portrait of a stubborn looking man and, as he pushed it open, tugged Romeo inside.
Lay beyond the door, Romeo would have suspected more of the same. Lavish furnishings taken over by rot and decay, diminishing the once great beauty of the architectural wonder. However, lying before his widened eyes, was a room that seemed to be frozen in time.
In the corner of a bright bedroom, a gramophone played a steady piano piece, and sunlight streamed in through loose fabric curtains that blew against the breeze. A tall canopy bed with velvet red curtains draped across it sat in the centre, and not far away a shining marble fireplace roared with vibrant dancing flames. A portrait of a seemingly happy family sat just above it, paint fresh looking, as if only yesterday it had been completed.
Romeo stilled as Carlo let go of his hand to shut the door, his mind spinning as his brain failed to comprehend the vision before his eyes. Carlo stepped into his sight and, in the pale sunlight, he seemed to glow.
Romeo blinked slowly. There was an almost golden halo around Carlo’s dark hair and the boy’s soft smile asked him a silent question.
“Where… are we?” Romeo had to ask. This was not a room in the decaying mansion he’d stepped into.
Carlo’s brow furrowed before he let out a laugh. “My bedroom?” He answered like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Father doesn’t like it when I play outside so we’ll have to make do inside.”
“Carlo…” Romeo tried the name out on his tongue and found the taste pleasant. “You… How long have you lived here?”
“All my life!” Carlo laughed and spun around to walk towards the sofa by the fire. “Though it feels like longer!”
Romeo followed along behind. He’d heard tales of things like this, hallucinations so vivid one could swear it was reality. It crossed his mind that maybe he’d inhaled far too much of the rancid air inside the building and his brain was cooking up some sort of bizarre fantasy. But even so, the hand that had held his own was undoubtedly warm.
Romeo found he could not voice his thoughts, nor question the situation. It felt almost cruel. When Carlo smiled over at him, the aching in his chest only intensified. Even so, he followed along with the fantasy.
“Do you like to read, Romeo?” Carlo asked, tugging the blond to sit down next to him.
He was an orphan from the streets, even though he wished to get lost in the fantasy of fairytales and stories, he could not read particularly well. Romeo forced a smile and shook his head. “I like plays.”
“Oh! Of course, Romeo .” Carlo laughed. The book in his lap had seemingly appeared out of thin air. Romeo could not recall when he picked it up. “Then, if you don’t want to read, how about I read to you?”
Romeo pursed his lips. It felt wrong to deny Carlo anything, like should he do so the entire world would collapse in on him. So he nodded lightly. “Do you have a favourite story?”
Carlo stroked the cover of the book in his lap. “Pinocchio…” he said quietly, “I like it a lot.”
And so Romeo settled on the plushest sofa he’d ever been on, and listened quietly to the animated way Carlo read. His thoughts became lost somewhere in a world of Carlo’s story and, by the time the boy had finished, desperate tiredness washed over him like crashing waves.
Carlo closed the book and pushed it aside. “Did you like it?”
Romeo had heard the story before, long ago, but he nodded anyway. His heart ached. “I did.”
That seemed to please Carlo, who gave him a bashful smile. “I wish you could stay longer.”
Romeo blinked. “Should I leave now?”
“Well, I don’t want you to. You’re nice. The nicest anyone’s ever been to me.” Carlo lowered sad eyes to the cover of his book once more. “But your friends are waiting, aren’t they?”
“Why don’t you come out and play with us?”
“I can’t.” Carlo shook his head and reached forward to squeeze Romeo’s hand. “But thank you. For this.”
Romeo opened his mouth and words flowed out before he could think of them. “I can come back. Tomorrow or whenever.”
Carlo was slow as he stood up. The smile he displayed for Romeo in the fading sunlight was agonisingly familiar and heartbreakingly sad. “You’re welcome here, whenever you want.”
If anyone had asked Romeo what happened in the few hours he was lost in the mansion, he would not have had a good answer for them. Nor would he have had an elaborate lie to spin. The only thing he could say as he stepped past the open doors to the dark rainy weather outside, and his friends rushing over in a panic was, “I’m not really sure.”
Even as he lay in his makeshift bed in the hovel they called their home, he didn’t really know how to start compiling his thoughts. The more he thought about it, the less sense it seemed to make. Yet in his memory, more than the foul smells or the plush fabric, Carlo’s smile lingered. Not the bright one, nor the soft one, but the one he’d given him at the end.
An uncomfortable sadness welled up in Romeo. With the back of his hand he wiped tears from his eyes and attempted to steady his heavy breathing. Even as he stilled his racing thoughts and allowed some semblance of peace to overcome him, to lull him to sleep, he could not wash that image from his mind.
He returned the very next day, alone.
It was early morning, the sun just about breaking and the heavy rain had passed. Still, dampness lingered in the air and the mansion standing before Romeo was no less ominous in the warm light.
As he entered, it remained completely unchanged. The foul smells, the torn paintings, the rusted staircase and broken chandelier— all of it was untouched. The dark hallway that Carlo had led him down was still dim, only slight light from closed curtains inside it, and Romeo found himself retracing the previous day's steps.
It was almost like he was hypnotised. He couldn’t remember the way, and he could not remember walking out the day before either, yet somehow he made it all the way back to that stern looking portrait beside Carlo’s bedroom door.
He raised a hand and pushed the handle, cold and rusted beneath his touch. But before he could swing open the door, a hand fell on his own.
Romeo startled, heart leaping.
Carlo’s gentle eyes gazed back at him from his side. “You came back.”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Romeo said softly.
Carlo blinked, his wide eyes closing to give way to a coy smile.
Romeo allowed his hand to be pulled away from the door handle and taken into Carlo’s grip instead. The boy was undoubtedly warmer than the day before.
“You were in my dream last night.” Romeo continued, as if he hadn’t got control of his tongue. “And when I woke up this morning, my chest ached with longing to see you.”
“You’re sweet.” Carlo said, turning his head as he pulled Romeo away from the door. He didn’t really address what Romeo had said. “How about I show you another room today?”
Romeo went along with it far too easily. He had always been laidback and content to go with the flow. It did not always serve him well.
Carlo led him further down the hallway. They passed dark portraits and peeling wallpaper to get to a sitting room, a little way away from Carlo’s bedroom. It was a large room, though not quite as large as the bedroom, but still sported its own marble fireplace and plush green sofas. A bookcase taller than multiple Romeos sat opposite the door, with tomes and volumes Romeo’s untrained eyes could not even hope to decipher. An open window let the light in, curtains fluttering in the low breeze, and offering a wide display of a lush green garden beyond.
“What do you think?” Carlo asked, tilting his head. His hair looked a little fluffier today, a touch softer.
“It’s pretty.” Romeo replied with eyes that never left the other boy.
The smile returned to him was almost cheeky.
Carlo kept a warm grasp on Romeo’s hand as he led him over to the window seat. They sat side by side, hand in hand, gazing out at the scenery. All the bushes surrounding a phenomenally beautiful fountain were perfectly trimmed and shaped, not a single leaf out of place.
Yet even with the exceptionally beautiful view, it failed in comparison to the solemn beauty of Carlo’s warm features. Romeo’s eyes lingered on him, his fingers curling around Carlo’s own, the want for understanding surfacing in his mind.
Carlo smiled at him and Romeo’s thoughts were lost. They remained in delicate silence for a while.
“Thank you for coming back.” Carlo said gently, looking down to their linked fingers. “Nobody ever comes back.”
“I will.” Romeo didn’t know what he was saying, he only knew that that quiet sadness didn’t belong on Carlo’s face. “As often as you want. Whenever you need me.”
Carlo’s eyes lowered a touch, his smile fluctuating. “If you come back tomorrow I can show you more.”
Romeo’s heart twinged and familiar nausea settled deep in his gut. “Alright.”
“For now,” Carlo leaned his head against Romeo’s shoulder and sighed. “Let’s stay like this?”
Romeo had no complaints. If he pushed aside the swirling in his gut, this was comfortable. This room, the warm sunlight, Carlo’s hand in his and his head resting on his shoulder.
“Did you come with your friends today?” Carlo asked out of nowhere.
“No.”
“Then, can you stay longer? It’s lonely here, by myself.”
“Where’s your family, Carlo?” Romeo asked, gazing down at where Carlo fiddled with the ring on his finger.
“Father isn’t here and mother… well, she moved on years ago. It’s just me, most of the time.”
“Why don’t you leave?” It must have been awfully lonely, such a space for only one.
Carlo slipped the ring from his finger and, in a swift motion, slotted it onto Romeo’s instead. He smiled sadly and linked their hands once more, holding Romeo’s hand up to his eyeline so he could admire. The gaudy golden ring seemed out of place to Romeo, its weight heavy and its material cold. Yet Carlo seemed overwhelmingly happy with it.
Romeo’s question remained unanswered.
“It looks good on you.”
Romeo smiled, Carlo’s happy expression embedded in his memory. “It doesn’t suit me. I’m an orphan.”
“That doesn’t matter.” Carlo stated. “You still deserve nice things, material and not. I would give you a home here too if father were not as he is.”
Romeo didn’t say that he did not wish to live in such a mansion. Too much space, too much decay. But he smiled anyway, because Carlo liked the idea.
“Keep this ring.” Carlo said and he stood up, pulling Romeo with him. “When you look at it, think of me.”
Romeo could think of nothing but. Even without the ring, his mind had emptied of all thoughts but one. In the days, the weeks, that passed by for him he could not think of more than Carlo. How the boy’s presence was both comforting and fear inducing. How each time he stepped into that mansion things seemed to be changing around him. Never the same rooms they sat in, always the same decay they passed by.
He could not mention it, for fear the illusion would shatter and the halcyon days would be forever out of his grasp. Yet Carlo remained the same. Unchanging, warm, absolutely terrifying.
It was a month, and many trips, later when Romeo’s friends mentioned it. The ring he continued to wear on his finger.
“You’ve gotten engaged to a ghost.” His friends teased at first.
None of them had seen Carlo, had dared venture inside with Romeo for fear they too would go insane. They made light of it, joked around, but Romeo could see the uncertainty in their wavering eyes. Like they were unsure of what to do with him or if they should tell somebody.
Even if they tried to, Romeo was too deep now. He couldn’t just abandon Carlo to rot alone in that mansion.
“Maybe don’t go tomorrow.” One of the girls said as they all cuddled around a tiny fireplace that evening. The storm outside lashed against the windows.
Romeo gazed up to her from where he’d been fiddling with his ring, a book open in front of him– he’d been attempting to learn to read again. He’d only recently returned from his daily trip to Carlo, borrowed book in hand, and his mind had been muddled. Carlo had been particularly touchy recently, leading Romeo to believe he really had gotten engaged and whether or not he should act on his feelings, should kiss him like he wished to.
“You don’t have to go all the time.” Another of the girls spoke up and Romeo’s eyes flickered back and forth.
“I want to go.” He frowned. Passed were the days where he contemplated what was happening to him. Sitting in Carlo’s presence became a comfort. “He’s important to me.”
The first girl, Elise, rolled her eyes. “ He’s not real.” Romeo’s frown only deepened at her words. “Nobody lives in that mansion, Romeo. They haven’t for years. It’s abandoned, it’s literally rotting!”
“This prank of yours has gone on long enough.” One of the boys piped up, and the others all nodded their heads.
“It’s not a prank. Why would I lie about this? Where else would I have gotten this?” Romeo gestured to his ring, a brilliant and heavy gold. It would have sold for enough to feed them for weeks.
“You probably just picked that up inside.” Elise commented. “Now, stop going there. It’s weird.”
It wasn’t weird, at least not anymore.
Romeo stood up suddenly and the group around him startled. When he marched over towards the door, the group called out to him and yet all of their voices faded away the second he passed the threshold.
Twirling the ring on his finger, Romeo followed the familiar path through the woods, uncaring that the rain soaked through his hair and clothes. He’d never been to the mansion in the dark and yet he could easily navigate each large tree and thick pile of roots even in blindness. As always, the gilded doors greeted him silently, a threatening presence.
“Carlo?” Romeo called as he entered. The dark hallways seemed impossibly darker at night. No candles, no lighting. Just silent stillness his eyes could not see through.
Even if his friends did not understand, Romeo had made up his mind. He was sure Carlo felt the same for him and that, should he lean in for a kiss, he would not be rejected. But first he had to find Carlo.
“Are you sleeping?” Romeo wondered as he walked down the hallways. He knew where Carlo’s bedroom was even if he’d only been inside once.
He knocked carefully on the familiar door. “Carlo?” The rusted handle was stiff under his grip but the door glided open without a problem.
The room that sat before him was not what he remembered. It was dark and cold.
“Romeo.” Carlo’s voice startled him and he spun around. Gentle features softened for him and Romeo’s thumping heartbeat eased at the sight of a warm smile. “You’re here.”
“I wanted to see you.” Romeo closed the door and did not linger on how strong the scent of rot was from inside.
“You saw me hours ago,” Carlo laughed. “But you missed me that much?”
“I did.” Romeo stepped forward and boldly wrapped his arms around Carlo’s smaller body. The skin beneath his hands trembled. “I need to tell you something, well, to show you something really.”
“Oh?” Carlo seemed intrigued, “This way then.”
As always, Romeo followed blindly. There were many rooms in the mansion he had never been in, and many he had. Yet even as they passed by in complete darkness, hand in hand, Romeo recognised many doors. The kitchen where they’d sat on the countertops and baked biscuits together. The dining room where Carlo had them play pretend, like they were a fancy family dining together. The music room where Carlo performed a recital on the piano and Romeo had sung along with nonsense lyrics. A bedroom where they’d lay together beneath a thick blue canopy like stars and envisioned a long lasting dream hand in hand.
“This one?” Romeo followed after Carlo as they entered another bedroom.
“This one faces the garden.” Carlo explained and brought them down to lie together on the bed.
Romeo settled easily and pulled Carlo’s weight against his chest. His fingertips trembled with anticipation. Stroking them through Carlo’s hair, he watched the other’s gentle expression soften into relaxation.
“Carlo.” He whispered to get the other’s attention. “You’re important to me and I want to show you—” Romeo carefully slotted his hand up against Carlo’s cheek, and leaned in.
Before he could feel the heat of breath on his face, Carlo tugged away. Romeo’s eyes snapped open as Carlo sat up, a familiar creeping fear reflected in his dark eyes. The fire lit up his expression with heated amber glows.
“Sorry,” Romeo’s mind spun and his chest tightened. Bile bubbled up in his stomach. “I thought you felt the same, I— I’m sorry, Carlo.”
“I do… feel the same.” Carlo replied back, much to Romeo’s shock and elation. But the boy did not mirror the open affection Romeo showed to him, he did not reach out to touch again. Instead Carlo curled in on himself, balling up his already short form and forced his head between his knees. “I’m scared.”
“Don’t be scared,” Romeo reached out, thankful Carlo did not push away from his touch. He shuffled close enough to loop his arm around the other’s shoulder, to pull Carlo into him. “I’m here. We’re together.”
“I’m sorry, Romeo… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Romeo curled his finger around a strand of Carlo’s dark hair and pushed it from his face. His pale skin had a sickly glow to it tonight.
“If you knew, you’d hate me.” Carlo mumbled, his eyes falling onto the ring sitting prettily on Romeo’s finger. “You’d curse me out, you’d run far away and never come back. I’m scared that… you’ll leave me alone forever.”
Something in Romeo’s mind flickered. An old thought he’d pushed far back, too painful to linger on, too dark to remember. Sometimes he’d lay awake with only that thought in mind, in the early days. But Carlo’s warmth had pushed it aside, and he only wished to think of how safe and comfortable he felt around the other. But he was not blind. He was not stupid.
“Tell me.” Romeo cooed, chancing a kiss to Carlo’s cheek. “I won’t run. I won’t leave you. I promise I’ll always be with you.”
Tears slipped from Carlo’s eyes and he turned to bury his face into Romeo’s chest. Romeo took in a deep breath and pushed his fingers into Carlo’s hair, cradling him gently. Even his own words of comfort felt terribly hollow.
The fire in the room flickered and blew out.
“You know.” Carlo’s low voice hit his ears and the body in his arms grew cold. “You already know.”
Of course he did. Romeo had been deep in his mind recently but had failed to think about the one thing he already knew.
“It doesn’t matter.” Romeo squeezed Carlo tighter, buried his face into his shoulder and let the shivers rush over his body. “You’re still important to me. I won’t leave you.”
Carlo’s arm wrapped around Romeo’s back and his hand bunched into the fabric of his worn waistcoat. Wetness pooled against Romeo’s shoulder. “Nobody stays.” Carlo trembled, his breath catching in his throat. “Nobody ever stays.”
“I will.” Romeo rubbed his hands in calming motions across Carlo’s back. “I promise, I won’t leave you.”
Carlo squeezed in impossibly tight before the pressure released and Romeo watched him pull up. Face to face, the beautiful face he loved to look at was pale and sunken, lightless eyes watched Romeo back and he could not help but tremble.
Despite everything, Romeo still leaned in. And this time Carlo did not shy away from the kiss. His cold lips were still soft and Romeo pulled him to lie back against the bed, hand in hand once more, lazy kisses passing between them for hours.
When Carlo pulled back, Romeo did not force him to remain. He watched Carlo sit up from the bed and stand, watched him sag and his body deflate, watched the fire once more roar to life. Carlo turned back to him and the colour had returned to his cheeks.
“Do you want to see?”
Romeo wanted to say no. But he could not refuse Carlo’s tired eyes. He took the hand Carlo offered him and traveled the distance through the mansion halls once more. To Carlo’s bedroom.
“Sorry.” Carlo said once more as he pushed the door open and allowed Romeo to step into the room without adjustments.
It was cold and dark. The shattered window let in a chilly night breeze and the curtains whipped around as if they too were ghosts. The fire was dormant, the fabric of the sofas torn, and upon a broken canopy bed lay a tiny figure draped in patterned fabric.
It was hard to see in the dark. Perhaps it was for the best. Romeo looked for only a moment at the decaying corpse before he turned back to Carlo. The brunet’s sad eyes flickered from him to the body.
“How?” The word came out as more of a sob, it hurt to ask. Romeo’s breath had been stolen from him.
Carlo’s expression morphed into melancholy. “My father was angry with me. I only asked him to spend more time with me, just every now and then. But I suppose I never was a very good son and it only made him more angry. I didn’t lie though, sometimes even now he comes home. To his son. To his corpse.”
Romeo didn’t wish to hear the words. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Carlo, pulling the other so tightly into his body, like they could merge souls. Maybe they already had. Carlo’s fear, his anguish, the pounding sadness that permeated with every step he took around the mansion halls, Romeo felt it all throbbing through him at once.
He wasn’t sure how long they stood entwined. Even the rotting smell seemed to vanish. When Romeo forced himself to let go of the boy who had stolen his heart, he was standing alone in the room.
Upon approaching the bed, Romeo wiped his hand across tear stained eyes and knelt beside Carlo. He slipped the ring off his own finger and slotted it back onto Carlo’s. He rested his head against the disintegrating fabrics of Carlo’s once bright clothing and let the tears flow unfettered. “Good night, Carlo. Thank you for being with me.”
When Romeo returned to his hovel of a home early in the morning, none of his friends asked him anything. They didn’t even look at him, nor did they acknowledge his swollen eyes and red skin. And that was for the best. How it should be.
It was a few weeks before Romeo worked up the courage to venture outside again. Before he was ready. His shattered heart was still broken, still bleeding, but as the familiar columns of that old mansion came into view, he couldn’t help but tremble. Not fear, not sadness, but an uncomfortable kind of joy.
Romeo pushed open the gilded doors and was met with an unfamiliar warm air. And a boy. Sitting at the foot of the bright red carpeted staircase, beneath a dazzling crystal chandelier, eyes wide, face soft. Romeo rushed over and, as Carlo stood up, he gathered his lover into his arms.
“Let’s stay together from now on.” Romeo whispered into the warmth of Carlo’s skin. And, as Carlo held him tightly back, he would not deny Romeo a thing.