Brandon had stopped to help Kelly fix the garden. She had lifted Sammy to take him to bed and as soon as she returned to the living room she had looked at her. Maybe more than he should. He watched her as he looked at her when they lived together, nor did he draw the margins like when she had become a ghost of his days. He went to look for her, sometimes, with his mind because somehow he needed her presence. A kind of divine mechanics that brought him back to her. Every time he left someone's bed or ended a story. Whenever he was surprised to touch his ear while he was too focused. A kind of mystical and sensual rapture that imprisoned him from her.

He had thought of changing the object of his wishes a million times. That he should not have been satisfied and with that thought went on.

He survived.

But look at her daily joys there. A woman. A house. The clean smell of something that maybe never really was lost.

"What's up?" She asked him by surprising him looking at her.

"Nothing, I like to look at you. I've always liked it."

"Really?"

"Seriously"

Kel didn't asked him why, she didn't need it.

"Always a step back, right Bran?"

SHe guessed it.

"I did like a hermit giving up, but tonight, I look at you and think of an excuse to be able to talk to you. To be able to stay. To be better."

Kel was on his back. The dishwasher closed. Three months, even less now. He would be gone. SHe repeated it every time he saw it.

"In you I see my roots, what I am, from which I come," he said now behind her, "and I would so much like to free myself from this obsession, to be above Good and Evil, but the truth is that I need your presence."

"Three months, even less," she said imperceptibly when she felt his hands on her hips. That thought lasted a breath, she turned around. Sea blue eyes against sky blue eyes.

Something powerful was born out of it, which had been closed for too long. That he had been cut away as if it were nothing, but buried under the ashes that "the two" had kept beating. Their mouths opened and looked for each other, without a common thread...

Brandon lifted her up by resting her on the kitchen and stuck his hips between her thighs. They recognized the smell, for sure. Of course. Something they could feel with their eyes closed.

He touched her everywhere for a long time, and felt her gaze as he gave her pleasure with his hands. It was unchanged but different, the more he penetrated her the more she confused the faces of him boy and he man.

"Don't stop" she told him "don't say anything"

SHe widened her thighs more so that he could penetrare better, so that one would form above the good and evil of hypocrisy, of forgetfulness, of the unsaid.

Brandon passed his tongue over her skin and her wounds and healed them one by one.

They met in the same place they had broken up. Where they had loved each other and didn't understand it because they were too young, but now it was nice to see each other again, like two cautious beasts, in the morning air. It lasted the hours that separated them from dawn. They stood out, talked, made love. They couldn't sleep, because sleeping would lead to the end of everything.

While in his arms, Kelly thought there was no pain at the time. For the first time that pain that she was carried with was not there. It had vanished. Miraculously vanished.

Brandon, as he moved inside her, thought he would go back to looking for her all his life. In every woman, every place, every pair of eyes. He would always come back to her.