and the conversation would repeat.
The constant stream of people was exhausting. It was late into the night—or early in the morning, depending on how she wanted to look at it—when she pulled Nero down the beach to somewhere far away and quiet. He went with her happily, humming along with the band as they retreated.
Even at a distance, the smell of the bonfire was in the air. At her back was another source of warmth—Nero. The beach recliner they sat on was scratchy, but he was smooth at her back. She was nestled between his legs, and he was sipping alcohol from a bottle they passed back and forth from time to time.
He did love to drink. She couldn’t keep up with him and learned very quickly not to try. In his other hand was a cigarette. She heard him puff from it every once and a while, and she could smell it in the air. “I do dislike it when you smoke,” she commented.
“I don’t do it often, at least. Only when I want to look cool. So, I don’t need to do it around you.”
She chuckled and elbowed him. “Ass.”
“You love my ass.” He kissed her cheek.
“I do. Doesn’t stop you from being one.”
“Fair.” He hugged his arm tighter around her for a moment and let out a happy sigh. “The stars are beautiful tonight. I wish you could see them. Does it ever make you sad that you can’t?”
“Sometimes. But it’s all right. I have people like you around to describe them to me.”
“Oh, no. Nope. I’m a shit poet.”
She smiled. “Try.”
“I won’t do it justice. They’re my favorite things in the world. Well, besides you, and fucking you, that is.”
She elbowed him hard in the ribs again, harder that time. “Nero.”
“Sorry. What was I talking about?”
“The stars. If they’re your third favorite things in this world, you should be able to describe them to me.”
“Fine, fine.” He paused for a long time. “It’s a sea of lights in the darkness. Torches of fire in the unknowable nothing. They’re…beautiful. They shine out like—well—hope against the impossible.” He chuckled at his pun. “I used to think they were alive when I was very little. They twinkle—they flicker like little candles. I used to think it was them laughing with me. For some reason, whenever I looked up at the stars, I never felt so alone. When I was Pompei’s slave, I used to sneak out of his bed after he finished with me and had fallen asleep. I would go out on the deck and watch them. They were the only reason I didn’t kill myself. Because I could see them smiling at me. They gave me hope.”
That time, she knew it wasn’t a play on her name. She turned over and reached up to kiss him. The tone in his voice was so desolate—so broken—she needed to fix it. When she cradled his cheek in her hand, she felt dampness there. She kissed away his tears and stroked a hand over his hair. “Nero…”
“It’s all right.” He chuckled. “I’m all right. Those days are gone. I’m not alone anymore.” He kissed her back. “I have my own Hope now.” She groaned at his bad pun, and he laughed louder. “Sorry. I had to.” He kissed her again, deeper that time.
When they broke away, she shifted so she straddled him. He chuckled and settled his hands on her hips. “We want to try voyeurism, do we?”
“No.” She nudged his hands away from her. “I’m trying to have a moment.”
“I can give you a moment. I can give you a moment and a half if you let me.” He kissed the bare swell of breast revealed by her dress. “Why not? You can’t see them stare.”
“Stop.” She laughed and pushed him back down by his shoulders. He obeyed and rested his hands on her thighs over her dress. She rested her chest on his and took a moment to gather her thoughts.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Then…if nothing’s wrong…then I’m just gonna help myself…” He slid his hands up toward her waist. She laughed and slapped at his hands again. He grunted and relented. “Okay, okay, I’ll wait.”
She played idly with one of the buttons on his shirt. It wasn’t to encourage him; she just needed something to do while she talked. “This month I’ve been with you has been the happiest of my life, Nero. I…”
He reached up and placed a finger on her lips, shushing her. “Don’t. Please.” He pulled her