“No?”
Still laughing hard, he gives me a thumbs down.
“Scintillating six?”
Quinn wobbles his hand from side to side.
“Really? I thought that was a good one.”
He scrunches up his nose and wobbles his hand again.
“Stimulating? Oh! Spine-tingling?”
Quinn snort-laughs and gives me another thumbs up.
“I’m out of ideas,” I admit. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”
Quinn sniggers.
“Will you even remember them all? I don’t think I will.”
He shrugs, which I take as a ‘probably not.’ I stroke his back and lapse into silence. Quinn’s laughter subsides, but he stays quiet too.
“Will you let me draw you?” Quinn asks.
I’m not sure how long it’s been since either of us last made a noise. All I know is I was happy simply being with him. Holding him. Caressing him.
“You already have.”
“I know, but I meant something”—he hums thoughtfully—“sexier.”
“Are you asking if you can draw me nude?”
“Yes.”
I take a moment to consider his request. The two drawings he’s done of me are both stunning. The one he gave me the other day is of my head and shoulders. The other is waist up, holding my award from The Library. I’m dressed in both of them. I’m not sure how I feel about being drawn naked or being given the resulting artwork. I’m sure the drawing will be stunning. Quinn has an amazing talent. But would I want to look at a nude picture of myself?
“Think about it,” Quinn whispers. “You don’t have to give me an answer now.”
I nod and stroke his cheek. “Has someone made you feel boring or hard work in the past?”
He breaks eye contact with me and nods.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“When I went to uni—before I got my diagnosis—I met a guy. We were in the same halls of residence. He was funny and smart and pretty damned cute. We hit it off right away, and it wasn’t long before we ended up sleeping together.” He sighs. “But I was falling asleep left, right, and centre. I didn’t have any cataplexy symptoms at that point, so it was just the sleep issues. Just.” He rolls his eyes. “Like that wasn’t hard enough, especially when I didn’t know what was going on. I was confused and scared and ridiculously tired all the time. He very quickly grew to hate the fact that I wasn’t always up for hanging out with him or having sex. He took it personally if I fell asleep while we were out together, especially if it meant he had to take care of me rather than dance the night away or get drunk. We lasted three months before he decided he’d had enough. He hooked up with someone from his hometown over the Christmas holiday and broke up with me when we got back to uni in the New Year.”
My chest tightens. “He cheated on you.”
“I guess. We were pretty much done before the holiday. I don’t blame him.”
I grit my teeth. It’s not my place to tell Quinn how he should have reacted or felt about his ex-boyfriend’s actions. It’s clear he’s too forgiving. I make a promise to myself never to take advantage of his nature. It would be easy for anyone to take advantage of him because of it, but I will never do that.
“I know being with me isn’t easy,” Quinn whispers.
