‘You said I seemed happy and… I might be. Tonight. I think.’
Loris lifts his head from Charles’ chest. ‘You think?’
His lips are redder than ever, his eyelids are hooded over a shine and his skin is gleaming in the low light – an appearance that costs Charles the thread of his reasoning.
They’re still a clammy mess, lying on the manhandled sheet, because they haven’t gathered the will to collect the duvet discarded on the floor.
‘You’re not sure?’ Loris asks with a soft smile that contrasts with the energy he displayed a moment ago.
‘Happiness and I were estranged for a long time, I’m not certain I’d recognise it. But I can settle for whatever this is.’
‘Can you describe “this”?’
Charles ponders for a few seconds, caressing Loris’ chin.
‘It’s like… I have a mountain to climb, and I don’t know which one or how hard it’ll be, but it doesn’t scare me. I’m ready and excited. About my possibilities. About tomorrow. And at the same time, I could live in this very moment forever. Mynowand mythen, they’re equally great, and the sky is very clear above Charland. I don’tknow… Perhaps it’s just serenity. But serenity goes hand in hand with happiness, doesn’t it?’
Loris is fiddling with Charles’ pendant, his gaze caring and proud, andnowmight be a dash greater thanthenwill ever be.
‘What do you think?’ Charles asks, his finger tracing the outline of Loris’ lips.
‘Happiness is in the bath.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I can’t define what happiness is for you, but if you believe this is it, then it is.’
‘What’s with the bath?’
‘There’s a wood sign in our kitchen back home, with a quote from Buddha, “There is no path to happiness. Happiness is the path.” But my dad carved into it one night he was really drunk, before I was even conceived. Now it says “Happiness is in the bath” and it’s our family motto. My mum used it whenever I threw bath-time tantrums. I was stupid. My dad was right. Baths are the best.’
‘How are you coping in this flat?’
‘I throw shower tantrums when you’re not around.’
Charles combs Loris’ hair with his fingers. ‘Let’s sneak into my house next time they’re gone for the day.’
‘Or let’s plan the trip we talked about and book a room with a super large tub.’
‘Yes! Once again, let’s do your thing. Get your laptop!’
‘Now?’
‘I’ve just received my monthly “Good Ledwell boy” transfer. I can’t think of a better way to spend it than on a weekend of baths and sex with you. I believe petty satisfaction is a close relative of happiness.’
‘As you wish...’
But instead of rolling off him, Loris parts Charles’ lips with histongue, and Charles lets him. Loris’ intentions never disappoint, and things should be as he wishes, always.
Charles would climb a full massif of mountains for him.
With him?
The future he’s looking forward to – even more so now that the support of his loved ones is guaranteed – involves Loris. Charles isn’t sure how, considering the countdown they hid under the rug, but he’s growing more certain of it with every breath they trade.
So once they will be done kissing and booking the most lavish hotel room, Charles will ramble on about his idea. About the Fred-story they could tell together, with words and drawings.
TWENTY-SIX
