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“It scares me, a little,” Naim said suddenly, soft as a confession.
Ryan frowned. Cigarettes forgotten, he shifted onto his side so he could look at Naim properly, but he didn’t speak. Not yet—he knew from the way Naim was frowning that he was trying to untangle the chaos in his brain.
“Now that we’ve gotten this far, it makes me… Hope.”
“... For more?”
Naim couldn’t meet his eyes, but Ryan didn’t push it.
“... Yeah.”
He didn’t think he could handle it if he met Naim’s eyes right now, either.
(A long conversation after sex, four years after the boys left that shithole of a town behind.)
Series
- Part 2 of gardenias on the tile
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Bookmark Notes:
Outside, Melbourne’s winter did its worst. The rain poured down relentlessly, shrouding the city in a dark, gloomy grey. But it was warm inside their small bedroom, with its beige coloured walls that were still bare and their queen-sized mattress that sat awkwardly in the corner of the room. Ryan already had a few ideas of how he wanted to decorate the space, and he was certain Naim was going to argue with him on most of it.
They were starting college together in the coming spring, under one of the free TAFE programs, his phone’s wallpaper was a photo strip of them taken in some Korean photobooth downtown that made them look much paler than they actually were, and in ten years’ time he would be in Paris with the love of his life. Broke as fuck, maybe, but in love and alive and together.