‘Dear Loris,
Thank you for this touching read. It brought a well-needed smile to my face and greatly improved my day.
I am sorry to confirm that I will not exhibitKaunasin the foreseeable future. However, if you and Charles come to Florence, please get in touch again. It would be a pleasure to have you over, show you the painting and discuss the magic of Olwinski with you.
Until then, I wish you both all the best.
Kind regards,
Enrica Bianchi’
Charles twists his head aside so fast, all the nerves of his neck shout at once. ‘What?!’
‘It made me drop a pint glass yesterday. My fault for multitasking.’
‘But how? What? How?’
‘I contacted her a few days ago, via the website of the theatre she manages.’
‘To say what?’ Charles’ heart joins the shoutingparty. ‘What did you write that touched her to the point of offering to… Shit.Kaunas. Fuck.Putain. How? What?’
‘I explained that we’re obsessed with theLands. But she probably receives hundreds of requests a week from art vultures since her father died. My only chance was to stand out in the email subject. I had no bright idea, so I put that thing you said when you were drunk and stripping, “Liberté, Égalité, Frappuccino.” It seemed peculiar enough. Then I admitted to clickbaiting and… I think I’ve lost you…’
Charles shakes his head. He’s still here, very conscious of what Loris has done. The consequences of his initiative are thrumming in his chest and smudging the colours of Patty’s living room.
‘You got this yesterday and kept it to yourself?’
‘It wasn’t easy, but I was worried that coming here could stir up sad feelings, so I saved the news to make you feel better after our visit, if necessary. Because you feel good about it, right? It’s not obvious…’
Charles nods but pinches his lips and leans against Loris, gripping the back of his jumper.
‘I teared up too during my shift. I had to escape to the basement to change a keg that didn’t need to be changed.’
The vision of an emotional Loris in the cold room doesn’t help Charles. Neither does the vision of Loris in front ofKaunas. Of them both in front ofKaunas.Of another moment sealing the certainty that their days together are far from being numbered.
‘Do you take sugar, Loris? Or whatever white substance is in that… What’s going on here? What have you done to my boy?!’
‘I think this is overwhelming joy.’
Charles gives George a thumbs up to confirm, sniffing in the wool of Loris’ jumper.
‘And no sugar,' Loris continues. 'I’m sweet enough.’
‘Blimey! I’m out of here!’
Charles flinches. ‘Loris.No.’
‘No?’
‘This is my mother’s favourite line. You can’t. Or add “honey” at the end while you’re at it.’
‘Sorry, I wasn’t aware you were allergic to it.’
‘Deadly. But it’s a bit of a relief that you’re so tragically flawed, because… Shit. How are you real? And how are you mine?’
‘Long story? Your fake girlfriend had a medical emergency so you showed up in my—’
Charles presses their lips together, pushing all his weight forwards to make Loris fall on his back. He lies down between his legs and grasps his hair, kissing him deeply and unrestrained.
