Through the crack in Isak's bedroom curtains, sunlight bathed the room in an ethereal glow. The blond recoiled under it, his eyes fluttered open, and with a stretch he reached for his mobile atop the bedside cabinet. There was a large crack across the screen from last night's drunken antics, but thankfully the device still worked. At the press of a button, it sprung to life. His wallpaper, a group photo from the revue Christmas party just over two weeks ago, reminded him of happier times. Notification after notification flashed across the screen.

[Mum 00:01] Happy New Year, my beautiful son.

[Dad 00:05] Happy New Year, son. I know this last year has been hard on you, but I promise, I did everything I could to help your mother. We'll work things out, I know it. You just need to be patient.

[Mum 00:10] You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness. Ephesians 4:22-24.

[Jonas 03:00] Wuu2? U disappeared.

[Jonas 03:10] Just saw Even, looked pissed, everything okay!?

[Jonas 04:00] K, freaking out now, where r u!? U r missing the party.

[Jonas 04:10] Eskild said you went home? Call me 2morrow.

[Even 07:00] Issy, I was just being friendly, didn't mean anything!

[Even 07:10] K, u know wat? Stop being so uptight... like you don't have a reputation for THAT... I was drunk and just having fun. She knew we r together.

[Even 08:00] Issy?

[Even 10:00] Call me plz.

Isak stared at his phone with trepidation, finger hovering over the dial button next to Even's contact photo and mind still swirling with the events of last night. He knew they needed to talk things through, but not yet - not whilst he was still angry and upset. That would only end in an argument. Instead, not bothering to shower, he slipped into his dirty clothes and headed out to the kitchen.

Eskild was already there, leaning against the counter as he drank a glass of orange juice and chewed loudly on a slice of toast. Linn was still in bed and Noora out with the girls, so it was just the two of them. Isak forced a smile, but he knew Eskild. That man could read him like a book.

"Morning, Isak. Is... Is everything okay? I... uh... I heard some things about last night."

The blond ignored the question at first, grabbing some milk from the fridge and pouring himself a bowl of cereal. His eyes twitched and he bit his lower lip to hold back tears. After finally composing himself, he jumped onto an empty counter and slowly picked at his food. He wasn't really hungry. However, he desperately needed an excuse to get out of bed that morning, when more than anything he wanted to lie down and cry.

"Even, he... uh... We were at the party last night. He got talking to some girl and... His hands were all over her."

"I see," Eskild nodded contemplatively. "You talked to him about it?"

"No," Isak sighed. "I mean, I told him at the party that he can't be doing that. We argued, but we haven't spoke since. I want to talk to him. I'm just... I'm afraid."

"Afraid? Afraid of what?"

"Of losing him, but also of being okay with it. I... I care about him so much that I could probably just overlook it, and I don't think that I should. I don't want us to be like that."

There was suddenly a deafening silence, broken only by the faint sounds of Eskild's chewing and the clinking of Isak's spoon against the bowl of cereal. He twirled it around in the milk, observing with childlike curiosity the ripples across the glistening white surface. It was an awful analogy, but in many ways his relationship with Even felt like milk. When things were good, it was really good. He'd never felt more alive, more real than when he was with Even. When things were bad though, it was really bad. Like a glass of curdled milk, it made him sick.

"Isak, you need to talk to him. Even arguing is better than not talking."

"I know," he mumbled, sliding down from the counter. He stole one last glance at Eskild, offering a faint smile as his way of saying thanks, and returned to his room. He checked his phone: five new messages, all from Even.

[Even 11:00] R u ignoring me?

[Even 11:05] Issy, plz, talk to me.

[Even 11:10] Didn't mean wat I said.

[Even 11:11] Ur rep doesn't matter.

[Even 11:15] Isak?

[Isak 11:20] Wat do u want me to say?

[Isak 11:21] Still mad.

[Isak 11:23] Ur hands were ALL over her!

[Even 11:25] U know how I am. I was just being friendly.

[Isak 11:27] Ur hands were on her ASS! Smh.

[Even 11:35] Isak, you know I only have eyes for YOU. I gave up Sonja. You're who I want but you've got to trust me. I don't freak whenever you talk to Eva or the girls.

[Isak 11:30] That's different! U know I'm not into girls.

[Even 11:31] Is it? I heard the stories. But you don't see me getting mad about Emma giving you a blowjob in Eva's bathroom.

[Isak 11:32] FUCK YOU!

"Fuck," shouted Isak, throwing his phone across the room. It hit the wall with a satisfying crack, the screen shattering and dusting the floor with glass. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Isak collapsed onto his mattress, buried his head into a pillow, and allowed the emotions to pour out. Tears streaked his face. Why did he care so much? He and Even hadn't been together long, yet already the thought of being apart destroyed him. A life without Even had become simply unimaginable, like living without sight or sound. Still, he couldn't forgive everything Even ever did out of neediness; that wasn't a healthy basis for a relationship.

Time passed slowly, as if it had been frozen and he was doomed to be stuck in this exact moment of misery forever. He tried to sleep despite the hour (anything to pass the time) and, when that failed, settled for staring longingly at the ceiling. His phone buzzed several times, but with a broken screen he couldn't answer it - even if he wanted to. Eventually, the morning gave way to the afternoon and there came a knocking at his bedroom door.

"Isak? It... It's me," came a wavering voice from the other side of the door, short of breath and panting but still unmistakably Even's. The brunet's gravity-defying hair was visible before his flustered face as he peered around the corner. He'd visibly ran over, little beads of sweat accumulating on his forehead and running down his face in such a way that any tears shed were no longer distinguishable. Perhaps it was for the best; the strength of their emotions for each other were at times frightening.

Isak shivered in that way only Even could make him, a thousand sparks of electricity shooting down his spine and butterflies fluttering incessantly in his stomach. He remained silent though, save for a surprised whine which escaped as Even's lips crashed into his and their bodies intertwined subconsciously underneath the sheets.

"Still mad at you," huffed Isak, breaking away from the kiss momentarily. "You're mine."

Even mumbled a response through the kissing. What he said was unclear - not that it mattered; it sounded approving. In that moment, physical touch conveyed far more than talking ever could. Their hands explored each other's bodies, slipping under shirts and gently caressing pinkish skin. Isak twisted his hips, sliding out from his sweatpants with great difficulty but somehow managing to keep his lips plastered to Even's, and then the other followed suit. They were naked within minutes, but it wasn't sexual. They just needed to feel close, as close as humanly possible: skin-on-skin contact.

"I love you," nuzzled Even against Isak's neck. "You know that, right? No girl could ever take me from you."

"I... I know... I just..."

The room fell silent - not an awkward silence, but a contemplative one, as if the two were running through an imaginary script in their heads. Sometimes things felt like that, scripted, because their relationship felt too perfect. It made Isak question himself constantly. Were they rushing into things too quickly or were they not going fast enough? Would he be ready for Even's inevitable swings to come? With parents like his, Isak hardly knew what a healthy relationship was supposed to look like.

"What's wrong?"

"You frighten me sometimes. How much... I've never felt this way before, about anyone. I can't lose you, but I can't... We can't overlook, or blindly forgive, whenever we hurt each other. I don't want us to be like that."

"And what do you want?" Even giggled, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it yet again from his boyfriend's mouth.

"I want you to myself," Isak whispered with a sultry, love-drunk stupor. "You're the man of my dreams."