“Just the two of you?”
Stefan nods.
I tilt my head. “Why did you decide to move into a big shared house?”
His expression becomes distant.
“You don’t need to answer that.”
“It’s fine. I realised one of us would eventually meet someone and move on. I didn’t want either of us to be left alone.”
I don’t know what to say to that, but the sadness in his voice makes my chest ache.
“What about you?” he asks. “Is this your first shared house?”
“Not exactly. I lived in shared accommodation while I was at university.”
“And afterwards?”
“I moved home for a while.”
Stefan winces. “I bet that cramped your style.”
“Not really. I was struggling with getting the right combination and dosage of medication after getting my diagnosis. Going home was the right thing to do. It gave me the space and time to learn how to live with narcolepsy and cataplexy without worrying about working or paying rent.”
“You haven’t always had narcolepsy?”
“No. I started getting symptoms when I was doing my A levels.”
“That must have been tough.”
“It wasn’t easy. I didn’t know what was wrong at first. I wasn’t sleeping great at night, which I put down to stress, and that also made it easy to explain my daytime sleepiness away.”
“And the cataplexy?”
“That didn’t start until I was at uni. My first few attacks were really scary but ultimately helped me to get the right diagnosis.” I tap the side of my glass. “You don’t want to hear me prattle on about narcolepsy all evening.”
“We’re meant to be getting to know each other better.”
“Yes, but there’s more to me than that.” I look into his eyes. “A lot more.”
Stefan smiles. “Enlighten me.”
My cheeks flush with heat. “I was afraid you were going to say that.” I suck in a breath. “All right, my favourite colour is purple. I could draw before I could write. I enjoy chess—"
Stefan chuckles. “I knew that.”
“I used to go rock climbing. I don’t drink alcohol or caffeine. I love Thai food, especially Thai green curry. I’ve never been to Thailand, but it’s on my bucket list of places I’d like to go. I can’t stand the smell of sour milk. I’m terrified of spiders, and I hate being asked to talk about myself.” I grin.
“That was a lot. You used to go rock climbing?”
“Yes.”
“But not anymore?”
My smile falters. “No.”
“Is that because of the narcolepsy?”
