“I didn’t know you couldn’t taste,” I said.
He shook his head.I can’t.Not the same way you can, at least.It must have been a fluke.It’s all normal now.
I took one of the crackers myself and ate it in three bites, wondering what more I didn’t know about him.
After a few more bites in silence, Aster brought the conversation back to the topic of rules.You would do exquisitely under my instruction.But you know I can’t impose any sort of authority over you.That would ruin everything.Still—I need you.More of you.All of you.
“You already have everything I’ve got to give,” I said, blushing at the thought of our encounter on the beach.
I don’t need your body.I need your brain and its ideas.I need your past.Your future.The photons of you that travel time and space.He picked up his glass of wine and raised it to me as if he wanted to make a toast.I need your totality.
My skin prickled.“You have it,” I said.
His eyes narrowed.I need exclusivity.I don’t want you to communicate with anyone else while we’re here.Not unless I tell you to.
“Done,” I said, suddenly freed from a number of petty anxieties.Given my habitual loneliness, Aster’s request hardly counted as a sacrifice at all.
This also means I don’t want to hear your fears,he said.No—I mean, you can’t have fears.You leave that to me.You need only confidence, and you’re half there already.
“I feel better already,” I said honestly.
Aster sipped from his wine.The stars in his eyes gleamed with a plan, or not so much with a plan as with a hope of a prize he believed to be within his reach.
I need you to give this project everything you have.Don’t withhold anything,he said.
I took a breath.“I will.Gladly.But only if you can tell me what to do, which direction to face…” I cut myself off when I realized that I had lapsed into the fear he had just warned me about.
Aster held up a hand to silence me.We’re watching the sunrise together, you and me.Tomorrow.Wake up before dawn and find me down here.
“Consider it a plan,” I said, suddenly deriving a sense of romance in the idea of waking earlier than I felt comfortable.This time of year, morning came early.While I wasn’t a night person, I didn’t like forcing myself to wake up in shrouded in the umbra of a dying night.At least, I hadn’t used to.Now the thought sounded invigorating.Watching the sunrise with Aster would spark my productivity for the entire day.
We’ll watch the sunrise every morning together from this point on,he continued, lacing his fingers together with enthusiasm.The colors of the morning light would do you good.And I expect you to get a lot of writing done.Some in your book.Some in other projects.We’ll see in the end which writing works better.
“I’m excited already,” I said.
Aster sipped from the wine again.This time he smacked his lips, and I wondered if he could taste that as well as the cracker.
This will be a good time for both of us,he said.Then he looked down at the wine.
“Can you taste that, too?”I asked.
He looked up at me, paused a moment, and then shook his head.No.It only seems to have a stronger texture than usual.I can taste the age of it.
“There’s nothing wrong, is there?”I pressed.
What would give you the idea?
I couldn’t tell if he was sarcastic or serious.“Tasting things,” I said.“Before that cracker, I didn’t know you couldn’t taste.You always suggest such good food.”
My senses are not like yours,he said.
“Or, they weren’t,” I suggested.“You’re changing.”I should have seen it.His darker skin, shorter hair, and even the way he walked more solidly on the ground all implied something.
At first Aster didn’t speak.His pressed his lips together and looked at the surface of the table near his plate.With one hand he grabbed the stem of a cluster of grapes and twisted it, slowly rotating the grapes over his plate.
“Do you know… what it means?”I asked.
It’s a good omen,said Aster.At least that’s how I see it.We’re forming an intimate bond here.I’ve learned to adopt some of your own experiences of the world, and I’ve tricked myself into imagining I can sense them as well.
