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Cecil lay awake in his nondescript hotel room replaying the events of the day throughout the dark hours. Occasionally, he would succumb to sleep only to be startled awake by vivid dreams of the most intoxicating kind. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could almost feel Carlos trailing kisses down his neck or caressing his hips. At last, he gave up on sleep altogether and went to the bathroom sink for a glass of water to refresh himself.
As the water poured into his glass, Cecil thought about the mission that brought him to this bustling city in the first place. He was supposed to investigate the outside world and bring back his findings to Night Vale. Bring back information and nothing more. Observe, but don’t get too involved. He was a journalist first and foremost, and curiosity was one of the things that he shared in common with Carlos. Love was nowhere on the agenda, but Cecil could feel its tendrils beginning to encircle him and pull him down.
“Here we go again, Cecil,” Cecil told himself, “throwing yourself headfirst into love without thinking of the consequences.”
The connection between them had been strong and immediate, but a contrary part of Cecil’s mind knew he should draw back. The amount of time away from Night Vale was already fixed, and Cecil knew well that there would be hell to pay from Station Management if he exceeded his allotted time. Growing up in Night Vale, he knew how rare it was for anyone to be able to leave the small desert town. Nowhere was it said that he should get attached to this strange city or the charming scientist who continued to tug at his heart. Nowhere was it said that he could make love work with an outsider.
By the time that the first few rays of daylight had begun to stream into his window, Cecil had already given up on sleep. He snatched his phone from the bedside table and began to compose a text to Carlos.