The struggle is real. I have never been this impatient to be in London in my life. These last few days in Sheffield and in Leeds were awfully and excruciatingly long. Spending our nights alone in hotel rooms, temptation being the darkest sin, it was hard to resist Marcel. But now, we are driving down to the capital for a few days. It will be nice to have no obligations. It will only be him and I for the next couple of days. No book, no job, no clothes, no nothing.
The first night we spent in Sheffield, we had the luxury to have a family size hotel room all to ourselves. To be responsible, I thought it would be reasonable to each spend the night in our own bed. We spent the entire night talking about the randomest things. He told me about the day he adopted Michaelangelo. We argued a little about the best way to do laundry. I wash everything with cold to warm water in the delicate mode, and he prefers to have the hottest water and the longest cycle to sanitise everything. He told me that he usually washes his bed sheets every week. It surprised me to get to know these details about him. It charmed me a lot. I used to be the only one thinking about these things while I was living with Steeve. So, to have Marcel so invested in chores was so seductive, I got up and joined him in his bed. I just couldn't help myself. It was a crazy idea to think I would spend the night away from him now that I had just gotten him back.
"What else do you think we need?" He asks me, tearing me out of my reverie.
"What do we need for what?"
"Were you not listening to everything I just said?"
"Sorry, my head got lost." I admit and smile softly before looking down.
He reaches for my hand, and takes it warmly in his for comfort.
"I was saying I want to cook for you tonight. I could make homemade pasta."
"You make your own pasta?"
"Yeah, it's quite simple."
"Of course, everything to you is simple." I tease him, amazed at all the things he knows how to do.
"It isn't, I just love to learn."
"Will you teach me?"
"I'd love to." The corners of his lips rise to showcase a genuine pride full of love. It warms my heart effortlessly.
I slide on my seat to look at him with more ease. My heart feels so full in my chest, I want to get to know him again.
"I know that look."
"What look?"
"Like you are about to start your inquiry."
"How do you know that?"
"I know you."
"You know me." I repeat after him, realising that despite the masquerade that happened between us before, he really does love me, and he did at that time too. "Speaking about that... that you know me and I you... How come you don't wear your glasses anymore? Or wear your usual cardigans for a matter of fact?"
"I didn't really think about it to be honest with you." He answers, pensive for a moment and looking at himself the next.
He is wearing a dark blue jean with a white tee, and the yellow jumper he had on earlier waits for him on the back seat.
"I think I simply outgrew them. You don't dress the same way either."
"I don't. Thank you for noticing."
"You used to dress very casually when you were hanging out with the band. And completely the opposite when you used to come to the office on weekends."
"I guess I was looking for myself in more ways than one."
"You found a good middle. I like the way you dress."
"You are what you sell, right? I wanted to be elegant, but approachable."
"And sexy... I think you've succeeded."
"How about you? Why did you change the way you dress?"
"I wanted to be what I sell as well..." The corners of his mouth lift up. It makes me smile in return and roll my eyes to the sky. He takes back his hand to make a left turn.
"You know this isn't what I meant..." I retort and soften my tone to talk about something more delicate. "Your mum shared with me that you started dressing like your father after he died. Is that true?"
"I guess... I wasn't wearing his clothes, if that's what you are implying. But I did dress like him and I did wear similar glasses. It was a coping mechanism my therapist said... But it was also to please Kate, subconsciously."
"Are you sad that she isn't a part of your life anymore?"
"Sad isn't the word... I don't know her involvement with my dad's murder, I guess we'll learn about that in a few months when the trial will begin."
"It's been reported again?"
"They can't find her."
"She was a big part of your life for a long time."
"She was. She was manipulative and she took advantage of everyone in her path. She was ruthless, I mean, she wanted to take the company away from us. It's the only thing of my father's that is left."
"That isn't true. You are a part of your father."
"Yes, but the company is tangible."
"So are you. I'm sure your mum sees him in you a lot."
"I don't."
"I'm sorry..." I murmur, reaching for his hand on the wheel to bring him some comfort. Once he realises what I'm doing, his hand flies to mine without hesitation. The warmth of his skin calms me. United again, I really feel our auras are in sync with one another and my heart feels lighter.
"You know... It's been really tough seeing a therapist. I had to relive all those memories. I had to deal with loads of emotions I had repressed deep inside for years."
"I'm sorry I wasn't there with you during that time."
"You had your own healing to do, I could never ask that of you ever again. You fought so hard for me. Not only you fought for me, but you fought me against me. You exposed all these ugly truths and I was too weak... I'm sorry."
"Hey... I don't regret anything. I'd go through hell again if it meant being with you in this lifetime or the next."
"I can't believe you are giving me another chance. I really thought I had lost you forever." He straightens his hold on my hand, a quick glance my way before settling his eyes back on the road.
"I tried to stay away. It was the reasonable thing to do. But my soul was crying to be with you. I dreamt of you so many times during our time apart. I tried to be strong and convince myself I needed to heal and that meant being without you. I was scared, and I let that fear guide me. I decided to not listen to those fears. You showed me there was nothing to be scared of with you. You showed me that you were a safe place. Somebody I could trust again. And I did. But I wanted to wait to be absolutely certain that I wanted to be with you, and not be with you as a default or to fill a void. I waited and kept myself from falling back in love with you until it was unbearable for me to deny how much... how much I burn for you. It had to be more than physical. I wanted us to sync, as we do now, as we did for a while. I- I don't know how to describe it... I realised that I didn't need to be away from you to heal. Being with you these last few days has helped me more than my three months alone. You make me so effortlessly happy. Sometimes, I look at you doing the most random thing and my heart feels like it could burst."
"Like what?"
"Looking at you read. Your stubbornness to write everything on paper and not type it down on the computer. After you've washed your hands, you always fold back the towel you used to dry your hands. Always. You use your mouthwash before brushing your teeth. It's the craziest things, but damn do they make me happy. You are so kirky, it's adorable. But it makes me burn for you. Not necessarily with desire. Our physicality is off the chart, but it's the little things that compose you that makes me love you all the more."
"You are not the only one that notices little things."
"This isn't a competition, Marcel."
"I know... It's my way of giving back."
"You are already giving me so much."
"You are grateful for everything. The good, the bad. You read over my shoulder all the time. You always talk to yourself-"
"I never had anybody to talk to, of course I have to feel a void." I immediately feel the need to defend myself. Even though I know I don't have to, it's a habit to do so.
"I'm here to feel that void now, as you are with me. And that in itself is quite extraordinary. I had gotten used to the idea that there wasn't anyone on this Earth for me. Everybody has their person or finds theirs. But I never had. I never even had a friend. A confidant, I mean. I had my dad. So, I convinced myself over the years that I would have sexual companionships, but I would never settle down and have a family of my own, because there was nobody for me out there. And then, you came along. You came along and... fuck it up basically." He chuckles, as I'm too emotionally invested to return his humour. This speaks so true to me. "I thought one didn't need a mate to be happy. I think happiness wasn't even in the question. I was going through life without living it, or at least, enjoying it. I hid myself in Academia. University defined me. I didn't have to be an adult. I didn't have to face expectations. I was a grad student doing remarkably well. I was granted lots of scholarships. I won writing contests. I made my own little fortune by working on paid internships, being a TA, by working on my memoir or my thesis or my doctorate. My only free time was at the company. I had no life. You arrived at a time where all I knew was coming to an end. I wasn't teaching anymore. I was graduating. I didn't want to let go of my routine."
"How do you feel about it all now?"
"I was lost, and I had many breakdowns and anxiety about taking my own place in the company after graduation. Now, I don't follow a routine anymore. I feel free and it's weird, but I like it. I know what I want, and I'm happy to be getting along with my mum again. We are leading the company in a good direction together based on trust. I'm confident about my future."
"Your future at the company or your future in general?"
"In general... Our future."
"Were you serious when you asked me to move in with you?"
"I'm never not serious."
"After this tour, don't you think you'll be tired of me? After seeing each other every day?"
"I don't think I'll ever be tired of you."
"You say that now..."
"Grace... I spent too many days thinking I would never have you back. I would never voluntarily wish to be apart from you anymore."
"You're cute."
"I said that to you once. Do you remember what you answered back?"
"No, should I?" I frown and review quickly some of our memories in my head in search of the moment he is speaking of.
"You said 'I'm not cute, I'm fucking sexy'."
"In Edinburgh, right?"
"I'll never forget it."
"What else do you remember? I mean, what other memory of us do you hold dear?"
"The first time we made love. You changed my ways. You made me feel whole like I never felt before. It wasn't about sex as a performance. It meant something I had never felt before. It's weird to say, but it felt like home."
"Like home?"
"Yeah... Home. Like I wasn't just existing like the robot I was, I was living, loving, it's like I connected with my emotions for the first time in a long time. It's like you ignited me, the real me. As if my soul was captive of my body with no communication to my head. I shut out an important part of myself for so long. And you let me free."
"You give me too much credit."
"It's what you did." He looks at me tenderly, giving my hand a little squeeze, and settling back his eyes on the round.
"I love you, Marcel. I'm happy we can talk like that. I appreciate you opening up to me."
In response, Mace simply raises our joint hands to peck tenderly my skin.
"I can't wait for us to be home together."
"With Michaelangelo."
"He won't be there. Mum is taking care of him while we are on tour."
"So nice, Grandma has the kids." My joke gets me a soft chuckle from Mace. "Good... Because it's time for Mummy and Daddy to play."