Ivo paced the bathroom in a state of anger.
"Ivo, relax, I'm fine."
"You are most certainly not fine," he hissed at me. "Let me take you to the hospital," he pleaded. I shook my head.
"It's no big deal, it doesn't even hurt much."
"At least let me call the police, you were bloody well assaulted Tim."
"No."
I continued to wipe the semi dried blood from around my mouth, trying to take as much of the grit and dirt off my hands as well.
"This is my fault," Ivo moaned. "I should have been more careful, I should have stopped you. I just got caught up in the moment."
I gave a harsh laugh and shook my head in annoyance, avoiding his gaze in the mirror when he stopped pacing and looked at my reflection.
"What?"
"Do you think that's what you should do, what we should have to do? I'm never allowed to kiss you in public because it might offend people?"
"Tim, I'm not saying it's how it should be, it's just how it is."
"Whatever."
"Tim, don't be like that."
"Like what?"
I turned to look at him then.
"We don't live in some kind of fairytale," he said wearily. "You can't just expect that because you think something is okay that other people will. Homophobia isn't okay but if someone threatens you, you don't antagonise them."
"So I was just supposed to stand there and listen to him say all those things?"
"No, you walk away," he replied irritably and pulled the wash cloth from my hand before wiping at the rest of my face. I pulled it back from him.
"I can do it myself."
"Fine."
I expected he would have left then but he stayed where he was before sitting on the bathroom seat.
"He could have really hurt you Tim. He could have had a knife or anything, it's not worth the risk just to make a point to a drunk and uneducated stranger."
"Maybe to you it isn't."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
I rolled my eyes.
"It means that when you don't invite me with you to all your work dinners, it hurts, and that when I try and hold your hand on the street you pull away. That we can't go anywhere or do anything as a couple because you care so much about what people think of you. Why don't you care what I think of you? Honestly Ivo I think you are a coward."
His eyebrows raised at me slightly as he took in what I had said.
"I don't want you to get hurt," he said quietly.
"Not everyone is out to get us," I said loudly. "Jesus Christ Ivo not everyone on the street is out to persecute the gays. Why is it that the people you work with are allowed to know that you're gay but they aren't allowed to know about us? Why are you so convinced that if I kiss you on the street I'll be murdered?"
He stood then and moved around me to leave the room. I followed him out of confusion.
"Ivo?"
"Don't."
"Tell me," I whined and he turned suddenly and placed his hands either side of my face.
"If something happened to you because of me I would never forgive myself."
"Nothing is going to happen," I tried to assure him but he just shook his head.
"Like how nothing happened tonight?"
"Ivo."
"I can't explain to you how hard it is for me not to hold your hand or touch you, or kiss you in public. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do but I don't do it for no reason. Not killing the guy who hit you though, that was worse. So if I have to avoid one to avoid the other then that's what I'll do. I'm sorry Tim, but I love you too much to have you hurt over a kiss."
He pulled me into a hug which I only half returned.
"I guess."
