We sat on the sofa. I'd grabbed our shorts needing cover - symbolic cover, I suppose. Christian hadn't put his on. He just held them, playing with the elastic. After we'd kissed, he'd looked at me almost like he felt insulted and sat down. I didn't know if I'd interpreted him correctly but he'd certainly put a stop to anything else happening. And now we sat in silence. I couldn't keep it up though, not knowing what he was thinking.

"What now?"

"What do you mean 'what now'? It's pretty clear, Sy."

"Is it?"

"Well we have no chance so it's back to mum and dad."

"I told you, they won't talk to me."

"They will."

"How do you know that?"

"I don't. But you've based your future on the assumption they'll come around eventually - who am I to ruin the dream?"

"What if they don't come around?"

"Not my problem."

"Look, I haven't chosen them over you. It's just you said it couldn't be both, so I've respected that. But now it turns out you only care about me if there's an 'us'. Everyone wants something."

"So do you."

"I never excluded myself from that. But I also don't take my love away the minute things don't go how I want them to. My mother takes it away because of me and you and now you're doing the same thing because you and I can't be how you want us to be."

"I'm not 'taking it away' - like it's that simple," he scoffed. "But what's the point in me supporting your decision when I fundamentally disagree with it? Or more precisely, when I know it won't make you happy? To me, you're just making more of the same mistakes, like you've learnt nothing from this whole experience. Look where the whole thing with Amira got you. And you still think you can be happy denying who you are for the sake of others. It's gonna be deja vu in spades, for you and me both. So no, I don't care anymore."

"If you don't care, then why did you kiss me?"

"The same reason you had a relationship with me despite having no intention of actually being with me, I suppose," he said sardonically.

"Look, if you're just going to keep taking swipes at me... You're the one who invited me to shower here, you're the one who got us naked, you're the one who kissed me – and now all this. In fact, I don't understand you at all right now."

He didn't reply. He just pulled tight on the elastic of his shorts - in frustration, I suppose.

"Don't. You'll overstretch them."

"I already..." He stopped mid-sentence.

"What?"

"Don't matter. It was just a joke."

"I like it when you joke. You haven't joked with me for a long time."

"I guess... I guess this isn't funny."

"No, I know," I said quickly. "I still miss it though. Us being like that."

We were silent for a few moments, no doubt both of us were thinking back to happier times, reminiscing. The atmosphere started to lift. He took my hand and I found myself looking at his crotch accidentally, the space his hand had just left. I think my eyes lingered a little too long because he noticed. He gave me a quick glance and smiled, starting to stroke himself with his other hand. I couldn't take my eyes off him but in the back of my mind, I felt the cogs trying desperately to work him out. Why keep doing things that contradicted what he said?

His hand was soon replaced with mine and I didn't have the capacity at that moment to think of reasons. It was impulse; maybe we were both just working on impulse. He guided my head downwards and I wilfully obeyed. Soon, the sofa became the site of our ultimate betrayal and my heart castigated me for forgoing all the progress I had made. I had, however, brought it back to life and I expected it was secretly grateful.


I lay on the sofa soaked with sweat, not just my own. Christian's hand brushed the hair away from my face, the hair which was dripping, literally. He was still trying to catch his breath. I watched his chest become the size of a house each time he inhaled, it was magnificent; all his chest hair plastered to him by the sweat still trickling down. It was this juxtaposition of care, of tenderness, that followed such a show of brute strength and relentless energy that thrilled and enchanted me. It was as if in the moment he was caught up, and so was I – impervious to the pain – and then after it was time to digest the fact this was love, the epitome of beauty.

He looked at me with the sweetest smile. "Are you sore?"

I gave a knowing smile. "A bit."

"It was worth it though."

"Always."

The fact was, I liked the pain. It made it evermore real and heightened his masculinity. There had been a time, right at the beginning, where he'd been cautious with me and I told him not to be. I needed to feel... everything.

And now, as we lay on the sofa, with day becoming evening, I couldn't have been more confused. I couldn't deny that every time I was with him, I wanted this. I wanted him, to be with him, a life of him. He was beginning to drift off next to me.

"Christian, stay awake."

He protested with a moan, like a five year-old.

"Stay awake because I want Round Two."

Suddenly he wasn't protesting anymore. He kissed me, every single inch of me – spending a little more time in sensitive areas. He chewed on my ear and I needed action, fast.

"Christian," I pleaded, trying to push him down to where I needed him.

He chuckled into my ear, pleased with himself at the fact I couldn't move him. "If I can make that happen without going there, you stay the night."

"Christian, I'll stay the night whatever. So please stop teasing."

It worked.