The little backstreets of the West End are calm at this hour, but Remi doesn’t let go of my hand.
And I make no move to mention it. His grip is steady, and I feel completely safe under his touch.
I know this probably won’t lead anywhere good. But right now, I don’t have the strength to pull away.
Just this once, I let myself enjoy something that feels good.
CHAPTER 7
REMI
The atmosphere at the Easter Eye Balti House is warm and easy going, like always, and the food is amazing, spicy, rich, just how I like it. I’m glad to see Sebastian digging in, too.
He usually eats like a sparrow, and I was worried that, despite all his reassurances, he hadn’t really recovered from what happened earlier.
But judging by how relaxed he looks now, you’d never guess he was lying unconscious on the floor a few hours ago.
The thought that I might have helped, even just a little, makes something warm spread through my chest.
Seb’s wearing a deep burgundy velvet suit that makes his pale skin stand out like porcelain, with a black silk shirt, slightly unbuttoned at the collar.
My eyes linger for a second too long on that bit of skin, wondering what it would feel like under my lips, maybe even under my tongue... Then he starts talking, and I blink hard, dragging myself out of it.
"Now that it’s been a little while," he says gently, watching me closely, "I’d really like to know what you thought of the play. If you feel like telling me, of course…”
He rests his cheek in his hand, eyes fixed on mine, genuinely waiting, completely present. That look, soft, open, patient,disarms me completely. He has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room.
It takes me a second to find my voice. My thoughts had wandered somewhere they definitely shouldn’t have, and pulling them back takes effort.
But when I finally speak, I mean every word.
“I loved it,” I say quietly. “All of it. But the part that really got to me, like, deep in my gut, was the way it portrayed parental love. The way Harold loves Jude… unconditionally, without hesitation, with everything he’s got. That kind of love that doesn’t ask questions, that doesn’t waver, just… holds you up. No matter what.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows lift, and I catch the slightest shift in his expression. But I keep going.
“I guess it hit me so hard because… that’s exactly how my dad loved me. He was like that. Constant. Solid. Unshakable. And watching that kind of love play out onstage, so real, so raw, it just brought it all back. Reminded me how lucky I was to have that. How rare it is. And how much I still miss it.”
Seb smiles at me, and there’s something so achingly tender in the way he looks, his eyes glassy, but steady. He doesn’t look away.
Then he leans in just a little, and when he speaks, his voice is soft and shaky, but clear.
“Remi… I’m gay.”
SEBASTIAN
I don't know why I said it. Or maybe I do.
I had planned to tell him soon, maybe tomorrow night when we’re out with the others. But the right moment is now. I want him to know before anyone else, even if that's not the only reason.
As he speaks, his voice thick with emotion, describing his father’s unconditional love, a kind of love I’ve never known, I realize just how much I trust him. And in that moment, I feel it with absolute clarity: Remi is sharing something deeply personal. Something he doesn’t offer lightly.
So I decided to meet him halfway. To give him a part of myself that I haven’t shared with anyone else.
Remi stares at me, stunned. Mouth slightly open, eyes wide.
The silence stretches, feeling like forever. Just as panic begins to rise in my chest, his hand reaches across the table and covers mine, the one that’s just started to tremble.
His touch steadies me. Our eyes meet again, and in his warm, amber gaze, there's no shock.
