Silently laughing at me, he asks, “And what, my love, is that exactly?”
I gesture at him. “You said you liked to be topped, so I’m gonna top you. But first I gotta get into the vibe, ya’know.”
“Of course.”
“And you always exude…”
He raises a questioning eyebrow.
“Well, you walk around like you’ve got the biggest dick in the room.”
A devilish smirk spreads across his handsome face. “Why, thank you.”
I turn back towards the wardrobe. “So I gotta find the right thing to wear so I’ll be able to do it. Top you, that is. I’m sure of it.”
“I have complete faith in you, beautiful.”
But before I can vanish inside, Lucero calls out to me.
“I have something for you. A surprise, of sorts.”
“You do?” I ask, going to him.
He pauses, then reaches for his bedside table, opening the middle drawer—not the one with all the lube he usually goes for. Lucero hesitates, then holds out a yellowed envelope. For a moment, he just stares at it, running his finger along the curled edges, before handing it over.
Slowly, like he might snatch it back at the last minute, I take it from him. “What is it?”
“A letter,” he replies carefully. “One that Samuel wrote for you.”
Samuel, Lucero’s soulmate before me.
My knee bounces, unsure what to say. But I can’t turn this down, not that I want to.
“Thank you for giving this to me.” And I press a quick kiss to his cheek.
His deep blue gaze hovers on the letter for a moment, a flash of…sadness, before offering me a small smile.
Rising, I go back to the wardrobe. “Now lay down and wait for me.” I was about to add ‘like a good boy’ but heat rises in my cheeks so fast it blocks the words.
Next time. Maybe…
“As you wish,” he teases back.
Once back in the wardrobe I make myself comfortable in the pile of Lucero’s clothes, and gently tear the envelope open.
Dear You,
I’m unsure how to refer to you—the one who’ll be reborn with my soul, just as I was with Tristan’s, and he with Francisco’s. But ‘You’ feels apt.
Because in some ways I know you deeply, surely a shared soul would do that. However, in every way that counts, I’ll neverknow you at all. I’ll never know the texture of your hair, or the sound of your laugh. The beat of your heart. A heart, I have no doubt, beats for Lucero. Like mine does even as I lie here, said heart failing with each passing minute.
I’m dying, you see, and as the dying often do I’m reflecting on my life, and of course, my regrets.
While I have many, and I won’t waste your time by listing them, not loving Lucero the way I should have is the biggest one. I thought a love between two men was something to keep hidden and sadly, it took a heart attack and news I’ll soon die to realise how wrong I’ve been.
So, selfishly, I ask, You, the bearer of this soul of ours to do the thing I, and I suspect the others, could not.
Love him, You.
