TORIS

When someone knocked on my door later that day, I felt like ignoring it. Luckily, I opened anyway. It was Eva. She frowned at my still a bit black eye. I mumbled something about an accident. Convinced or not, she kissed the sore, then the rest of my face. I took her hand and brushed it against my cheek again and again. I thought I would never get enough of her.

She was supposed to leave that day, but postponed her flight to stay with me a bit. We agreed she would sleep in my room. It was too early to eat, so she headed for the shower. Once in the doorway, she flashed me a really wide smile. I smiled back. She waited, then just sighed, shrugged and closed the door.

I stretched out on the bed, caressing the sheets, remembering the bitter events they'd triggered earlier.

"At least I didn't try to make her my colony," I mumbled under my breath.

The sound of running water cut through my thoughts. Hold on a sec! There's a beautiful naked woman in my shower and I'm just sitting here, thinking about… what was I thinking about again? Doesn't matter. In any event, thinking is not what I want to do while there's a beautiful naked woman in my shower.

EVA

Silly boy. Doesn't recognize an invitation when he gets one. Well, at least I'll have some time for myself. What an afternoon! So many meetings in so little time. Off, off with the dirty sweaty clothes. Rexona let me down after all. The brand new pair of tights didn't last a single hour; I'll have to go shopping as soon as possible. And the report about dairy products due next Tuesday - can't forget that! Which reminds me, the Greek cheese in my fridge must now be a couple of months overdue… What a weird tap. How do I -? Oh. Mmm, this is nice. Nice nice nice. Hot. There's never been enough hot water back in Moscow. This is so good. So hot my skin is on fire. That's how I like it.

A familiar hand took place on my hip, a familiar body pressed itself against mine. So you came after all? I could feel how much he wanted me and decided to resist him this time. Just a quick shower, nothing else. Francis was right - with time, I've learnt to enjoy men losing their minds over me.

"First the bath, now the shower. Do you have a thing about water?" I smirked.

"I have a thing about you," he whispered and nipped my ear. Despite myself, I started to tremble in anticipation. And the quick shower took a bit longer than expected.

Translation:

Štěstí (Czech) = Felicità (Italian) = Happiness

HYNEK

You think twenty years in friendzone are bad? Try eternity in brotherzone, I thought as I sat down at Piazza San Marco, eyes on the horizon. Vaporetti came and went, so did tourists. Somewhere behind my back, a street artist was singing 'Con te Partiro'. I wished I didn't speak Italian.

For some reason, I thought of Eva's roasted chicken. It used to be our traditional Sunday meal. The flesh was always tender, the skin crispy and the rice she served as a side dish light and fluffy. I had tried to reproduce it, but my meat would always end up dry and chewy and the rice all gooey. A culinary nightmare.

There were many things I had lost back in 1992 and couldn't replace ever since. The pecks she would give me. How, when she thought I couldn't see her, she would drink directly from the milk carton. Our toasting with home made beer everytime something good happened. And so on.

That was then. And now… this. Now, she was with him.

Now, it would be him whom she'd welcome home. He would turn a blind eye on her immatureness in exchange of kisses and delicious food. He would make her his. In every possible way.

She's easy to love now, isn't she? But where were you when she was tiny and frail and everybody wanted her in chains? It might just be you were one of them.

And he called her Yeva, just like Ivan did. He couldn't even pronounce her name correctly! E-va, for Christ's sake! E-va!

I wanted to heave a sigh, but my chest and throat were far too constricted.

"Vee, Enrico! Long time no see! Come va?"

I figured that if I ignored the familiar voice, he would just go away. Nope. He sat down next to me.

"What's wrong?"

I couldn't bring myself to look at him; he didn't seem to mind, though. Good old Feliciano. Always silly, always joyful. Always wearing that smile that doesn't always convince me. No wonder they get on so well with Feliks.

"Nothing." I shook my head. "I was just thinking."

"What about?"

"Štěstí."

"What about felicità?"

I finally managed to heave the sigh.

"How it is in small things. How easily it can be lost." I shrugged. I knew he understood.

"When I am not happy, I try to make others happy."

His words carried a certain wisdom. Every time I did something for her, something unselfish, it never hurt. I would always be greeted with nothing but that warm serenity deep down. Memories, oh, memories… Thousands of iron chains linking me to her, never to be broken, never to rust away.

"Like, for example, I cook them some delicious pasta!"

I laughed bitterly.

"I'm probably the only person in this world who doesn't know how to cook pasta."

"It's super simple, really!" he beamed. "Come along, I'll show you!"

And before I could say or do anything, I was being dragged through the centuries-old alleyways to a shabby building with an even shabbier door. He pulled on the doorknob and a second later, we were standing in a kitchen that would give Jamie Oliver a hard-on.

For a while, we just strolled around the place and Feli proudly showed me all those intriguing items I couldn't even name in my mother tongue. We were halfway done when the waiter rushed in.

"Salve, amici. One Margarita and spaghetti Carbonara, please!"

"Let's do it!" the brunet exclaimed happily. "So, first, get yourself a pot and put some water to boil. Yes, like that. So that the pasta can be stirred and thus, cook evenly. Now we'll wait."

While he rummaged in the fridge, I realized the voices from the nearest table sounded familiar. I peeked through the semi-open door and my mouth parted in surprise. Really, just what were the odds?!

"Andiamo, hungry customer is a bad customer!"

I finished the sauce before the water even started to boil. Oh, yeah. I'm a natural.

"You put some salt in and let it melt like I told you? Bene. Proceed with the pasta. Mamma mia! Don't break it! Ouuf. Alright, now all you need to do is stir it from time to time."

He wandered off to assist the pizzaïolo. And I couldn't help sneaking a peek at the couple again.

TORIS

This feels like one of my fantasies. So much so that when she reaches out to hold my hand, I shiver.

"Are you alright?"

"Sure, it's just… I'm a bit of a timid person, you know."

She chuckles.

"You didn't seem timid earlier today when we were both naked in your shower and you asked me to -"

"Hey! That's private!" I chide her a little bit, but can't keep a straight face myself. "No, seriously. That's just about the two of us. The rest of the world doesn't need to know."

"Okay." She nods, probably surprised by the lack of emotion in my voice. "You angry?"

"How can I be angry?!" I laugh. "I feel like in a frozen pizza commercial. There's always a cosy Italian place with red and white tablecloths, a bottle of wine and a girl with cheeks just like yours."

I don't know what I said, but, in a flash, she looks like she wants to crawl under that red and white tablecloth and die.

"They're chubby. I know," she moans.

"No," I'm laughing once more, reaching out to remove the pretty hands hiding the even prettier face. "You got me wrong. You've got high cheekbones - that makes a woman very attractive. Marlene Dietrich had her molars torn out to have the same cheeks as you. Cheeks made for kisses, I like to call them."

And she's blushing, blushing like I've never seen her blush before.