“We don’t need to?—”
And then he grasps it. His fingers tangle with mine, as if he’s trying to remember their feel.
He inhales sharply, and he’s, well, he’s staring at his family.
Who are currently staring at us.
And our joined hands.
From their very shocked expressions, they did notexpect this.
If some part of me thought that maybe Florian was gay, that he just hadn’t shared it with the Blizzards, because he’s new, that reason evaporates.
I can say for certain that his family definitely did not expect Florian to hold hands with me.
“Florian?” his mother asks.
Matching pink circles appear on his cheeks. He shoots me a helpless look, and I hate it.
The beep-beep-beep of his heart monitor starts to go up again.
He looks at me, confused. Maybe he’s wondering if I’m not actually his boyfriend, if I’m simply some guy he doesn’t remember.
Sparkling eyeshadow does not a memorable man make.
“We are together,” I lie, because at this moment, that is what Florian wants.
Florian burrows himself into his pillow in a contented manner, and I know I’ve made the right decision.
“Oh,” his mother says.
Then his sister smiles. “This explains so much.”
“It does?” his mother asks.
“It does,” his father says. “Welcome to the family.”
My eyes dart to him.
I was not expecting that.
But suddenly three very tall Germans are embracing me, and the only reason a fourth very tall German isn’t embracing me too is because he’s lying on his hospital bed, still hooked to multiple machines.
Family?
I’m thankful no one has hooked my heart to a heart monitor, because the sound would not be relaxing now.
“Well…” I say.
“You’ve been keeping a secret,” his mother tells Florian.
Florian looks down.
“But we are happy if you are happy,” his mother says, and I’m thankful she’s speaking in English for my benefit.
“I am happy,” Florian says.
My heart tightens, and I wonder what this moment would be like if it were real, and I wonder what Florian will tell me once he remembers.
