“Seven,” Luis repeated. “Sorry I’m late. I got held up.”
Usually, Paolo missed nothing. Every ounce of bullshit flashed in his dark eyes, even if he didn’t say anything. But there was no spark in his gaze now. Just a tired acceptance of Luis’s vague half-truth.
He didn’t ask for the money.
Luis pulled it from his sock anyway and laid it on the coffee table. Paolo glanced at it but blanched before he could speak and bolted up from the couch.
He left the room and disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
Luis moved to the kitchen to give him some privacy and filled a glass with water. His hands shook, though he couldn’t say why. He gazed out of the small window at the city lights twinkling in the darkness. From a tower block, the neighbourhood had always seemed far enough away for him to pretend it was a magical place. From Paolo’s window, Luis saw it for what it was—run-down, dangerous, and all he’d ever known.Maybe I could leave. Get a job in a different place and be skint and happy there.
But leaving the city meant leaving Paolo, and—
“You’re really here. I was worried I’d hallucinated you.”
Luis spun around as Paolo stumbled into the kitchen. “That bad?”
Paolo stepped into Luis’s open arms and muttered something into his chest. The words didn’t matter. Luis got the sentiment. He hugged Paolo tight and rubbed his back. “You’re still burning up. Did you puke before I got here too?”
“A few times. Think I’m over it now, though. I feel better.”
“You look like you’ve died.”
“Fucking charmer. Maybe I’ll just stay here then and you can move my dead body.”
Luis didn’t mind. He’d have stood there all night if he thought it would help, but common sense told him Paolo was better off in bed. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Paolo raised his head. His cheeks were flushed, and yet somehow, his olive skin was deathly pale. “Hmm? What?”
“You’re going to bed,” Luis said. “Come on.”
He looped his arm around Paolo’s waist and steered him out of the kitchen. The bedroom was exactly as they’d left it that morning, the side Luis had slept on half made, Paolo’s side a riot of rumpled sheets and displaced pillows. Luis’s side was furthest away, but putting Paolo in an unmade bed fucked with Luis’s head.
Freak. Still. He did it anyway and tried not to ogle as Paolo took his clothes off and flopped back on the bed. Luis knew he should go home, leave Paolo in peace, and deal with his own shit, but even thinking about it hurt his chest.
He leaned over the bed and stroked Paolo’s face.
Paolo blinked up at him. “Where you going?”
“Nowhere.” Luis toed his shoes off, stripped his T-shirt, and slid under the covers. He held his arm up for Paolo to duck under and rest his head on Luis’s chest. “I’m right here.”
Paolo knocked out like he’d been drugged. His fever raged on, but in the early hours of the morning, his shallow breaths evened out, and his skin cooled.
Relieved, Luis took a deep breath of his own and slipped out of bed. He’d left his phone in the living room. It was flashing on the coffee table with a message.
Unknown number:uve fucked me off too many times now bro. real talk comin
13
Paolo woke to cool hands on his face and soft lips on his cheek.
“Go back to sleep,” Luis whispered. “I’ll open the cafe.”
It was too good to be true. Paolo struggled to sit up, but Luis pushed him back, and the jackhammer still raging in Paolo’s head took his side.I don’t want you to go.
But Luis left anyway, and when Paolo next woke, it was light outside. His headache had faded to a dull roar. The nausea was gone, and he no longer felt like he was burning a forest fire under his skin.
He sat up, squinting against the single ray of winter sunshine bursting through a gap in the curtains. His phone was on the bedside table with an empty bottle of water and a box of paracetamol with four broken tabs. Paolo frowned. He didn’t remember drinking anything or swallowing any pills, but then, all he could truly recall was throwing his guts up a hundred times before Luis had appeared in the living room like an apparition. Even stumbling to bed was a haze of warmth and strong arms.God, I hope I didn’t puke on him.
