But last night it felt like we were closer to our former friendship. It felt like we were friends, not acquaintances who hated each other.
I liked it.
I liked having Enzo curled beside me. I liked not being alone in my big bedroom.
“Patricia already thinks we’re doing it,” I say.
Enzo’s skin pinkens, and he leans forward and whispers, “aren’t we sort of?”
I chortle and grab Enzo’s suitcase. Clothes spill from the edges, and I carry it into my bedroom. I deposit it on the floor, Enzo at my heels.
“We’ll need another chest-of-drawers,” I say.
“What?”
I point to an empty section of the room. “There’s space over there.”
He still looks at me, confused.
“Or, you know what,” I say. “I’ll just buy what I already got again. It will work for you, right?”
His eyes go wide. “It will work.”
“Perfect.” I beam. “And then they will match!”
He nods slowly but still looks confused as I make the order on my phone.
I let Enzo use the bathroom first, and after I finish, he is already snuggled underneath the covers. He gives me a shy smile, and I climb into bed beside him.
This should feel weird, but the only thing I’m conscious of is a sense of calm, one I didn’t experience when he’d distanced himself from me. Now, Enzo is where he is supposed to be.
“Why did you stop talking to me?” I ask Enzo.
Enzo stiffens. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Axel—” His voice is tight. “Can we not do this right now?”
“But—”
“Please.” He turns away from me, and the mattress moves. “I’m tired. Let’s just... sleep.”
“Okay,” I say quietly. “Another time.”
He doesn’t answer, and the tension surges in the room. Have I just reminded him that he doesn’t want to be friends with me after all?
Enzo shifts. “Axel?”
“Yes?”
“Can we go back to last night?”
“You mean when I wasn’t trying to have a heavy conversation with you?”
He gives an embarrassed laugh. “Yes.”
Reminders of last night bombard my mind. I chuckle. “Did you prefer it when I was touching you?”
