are we crazy

chapter 1

Will

Will wakes up and rubs his eyes, takes a few seconds to figure out where he is. He is still half asleep and the stifling heat of the room does not help him fully recover. He lowers his gaze: his shirt is raised above his waist and, clutching that exposed flap of skin, there is a firm yet delicate arm.
Did he spend another night sleeping in that bed, when will he ever have the courage to tell him the truth?
To tell each other the truth?
He carefully moves that arm and gets up, collects his things in silence and walks away from the room, like every morning for almost a month. He goes down to the kitchen first and immediately starts preparing breakfast. He's already gotten used to that life, it wasn't the first time he found himself living under a roof that wasn't his own.
He sets the table, takes his cup and sits in his usual place, at the head of the table. Start reading the ingredient list on the cookie package he's soaking in freshly warm milk when he hears the door open.
"Good morning love, is everything okay? You wake up earlier and earlier every morning" Carlton says, still with his mouth kneaded by sleep.
Will hints at a smile that seems more like an automatic "everything's on purpose" gesture.
Carlton sits down with his usual delicacy that almost doesn't make Will spill milk on him.
"Any news on the rent?"
Oh that question, every morning he always seems to ask it again, as if he really expected the answer to change.
"No" Will replies, without looking up.
Why doesn't Carlton throw him out of the house directly if he doesn't want to have him at his feet anymore? He'll find a new place to be, he doesn't need that boy's pity. About his boyfriend.
"Okay, okay. I hope everything is resolved as soon as possible."
They eat in silence, or maybe Carlton mutters something every now and then, but Will is too lost in thought to really listen to him. The sound of the spoon hitting the plate is the only noise that interrupts the quiet of the morning.

It all started between the two of them two years ago, like a dream. A few furtive glances at the municipal library, the surprise of discovering they were taking the same university course, the awareness of their feelings. And then, finally, the confession, in that favorite bar of theirs, where Will had been working for at least a year now to be able to afford a small apartment outside New York.
Yet, despite his commitment, hard work had not been enough. He found himself penniless, and, after a year and a few months of engagement, was forced to move into Carlton's house.
For goodness sake, their relationship was healthy and stable, they shared a passion for drawing and often portrayed each other. But Will began to notice that he painted Carlton's face without emotion, he couldn't make him a special boy in his eyes, because he was capable of representing only one other, unique boy in a special way. But his art at that time was changing, the subjects of his art were changing. They became darker, more serious, and represented Will's emotions in an all-too-scary way.
Anyway, they still loved each other, or at least Will tried to convince himself that they did.
At first they only saw each other at the university and the bar, but they still spent most of their time together. They still had to get to know each other, discover each other, and this made them curious, enthusiastic. The first year had been quiet and Will finally felt seen and loved for who he was. But since he was evicted and moved permanently into Carlton's life, something wasn't right.
But Will tried to convince himself that it was just a phase, that it was normal, that they both had very different lives outside of college and that they still had to adapt to everyday life. She was convinced that she loved him as much as Carlton loved him.