He wasn't entirely sure how it became like this.

All he could recall was an exchanging of certain words beneath the winter stars, red wine, and an endless night of empty passion. He could still feel it all. He could still feel hands crawl up his body as his own ran down his lanky structure. He could still feel his fingers entwining in his coal-black hair while the other tugged on his. He could still hear the sound of almost emotionless pants in his ear mixing in with his grunts. He could still taste the bitter-sweetness of his skin. He remembered every detail of that night, even the rate that his heart pounded after waking up in a bed other than his, yet he wasn't sure how it got to that point. He couldn't recall what was said, but he was sure it was something rarely spoken even between lovers. It had to be that. Why else would his gut twist at the thought?

...If that was the case, why did he act like it never happened? Was something like that really so casual to him, that he could wake up the next morning and keep the previous relationship the two had before then? It wasn't like that for Amir. He wasn't sure how it was over here, but in his country, such acts were considered an expression of love, that a man and a woman did when they love one another- or, in this case, a man and a man. That notion seemed pretty strange, two men doing that sort of thing that is, but he wasn't the one to discriminate. Though even through all that, it was apparent it wasn't the same for the other. They exchanged a hello when they saw one another, and Amir waited with bated breath for the other to spark up conversation.

However, that just wasn't so.