[This is the forth chapter of a short story called “Seven Days”.]

We had turned to lovers, in a silent agreement. I still do not quite understand how it happened so naturally. A part of me expected him to turn cold. Mistrust in his character? More probably mistrust in this sudden feeling of happiness growing inside me; like a foreign body taking hold of the host. Nothing in our story seemed to make sense, all so strange yet instinctive. Maybe the secrecy added to the excitement of this newly found attraction. Like immature teenagers, we took joy in holding hands when no one was looking, smiling shortly across the room.

Now reader, though I do not advise you to stroll in an unknown city with a stranger without telling anyone where you are, I must say our walk that Wednesday evening was lovely. If our memories could be painted out, then the world would have a whole new Monet series as we passed by the same street so often that we started to notice the differences in the atmosphere each time. We walked for so long my heels started to bleed, but I could not feel it then, either due to the freezing cold, or the warmth of his company.

We stopped at some point to look at each and embraced. I could feel his body shaking against mine as we both started crying. I held him tighter and opened my eyes. In front of me was a stone monument isolated by the blue snow. I don’t know why I am telling you this, but the sight struck me. In that exact moment, I could feel all the sour unfairness of our story, all the pain that was to come. I almost started laughing.

“It is hilarious, the irony of the situation.” Don’t think me cruel for I said it without any joy in my voice.

“I think it is beautiful too. There is beauty in the tragic” I added, I was the one who needed to hear that. I felt a complete understanding of his mind while knowing nothing of him, not bothered by the evident paradox of the situation. Swimming against the stream we decided to share our fears and secrets before knowing each other’s full names.

Once we found a restaurant after hours of deliberation, we sat down next to each other, still holding hands and smiling broadly for no reason. We started looking at pictures of my high school graduation prom. Me holding the arm of a tall blond girl, both smiling happily for the camera. I introduced her as my date for the evening., so he asked if I meant that she was a friend or if I liked girls.

-As in my friend but I like girls, I answered right away.

Acting as if it was of no importance while fearing any reaction is my way of dealing with my sexuality. A stomach contracting while I force a half smile on my face.

-Ah, good. You might have realised already but me too, I like boys, he added candidly.

I had not.

You probably hadn’t either. I hope this doesn’t change your vision of the story reader; I would hate for you to not enjoy it anymore because you disapprove of our existence. Maybe you would have preferred to not know because then you could still see it as a typical love story between a man and a woman. I am sorry, but the characters have not suddenly changed, it has always been part of them. Starting from the very first line.

Later in the night, we went dancing. He clearly wasn’t as comfortable as me, but I was touched to see him try to let go of his insecurities to enjoy the dance floor. The rest of the evening went wonderfully well. I could try and describe it with more details, but no word could translate the cocktail of colourful lights, old music, and silly moves. Are you smiling now? If your heart is warming up, then stay a bit longer on this night, as this might have been the only moment of true and complete happiness of this story. But if you indulge; in raw emotions, then be my guest, and read on, for it is only just starting.