“I don’t know what he took away from that kiss—or from being held all night. But I doubt he’ll forget, and I like to believe he’ll come back.” Sebastion dragged his fingers through Luca’s hair a few times, then kissed him again. “Read the note, my love.” Luca shook his head, but Sebastion tightened his grip for a second. “Read the note.”
It wasn’t often Sebastion pushed, but sometimes Luca needed it—and now was one of those moments. His hand reached for the folded bit of paper, and he stared down at the neat, careful writing right in the center.
“Out loud,” Sebastion said.
Luca cleared his throat, then licked his lips. “I don’t know how to address this,” he began, his voice low and soft, “so I won’t. By the time you read this, you’ll know I’m not coming back. Allie sent me an email last night telling me she was booking me a flight to London, and I think I have to take it. I want to stay, but I feel like I’m losing it. I don’t know what would have happened in the morning when we all woke up together, and for the rest of my life, I’ll probably regret not staying. But I wanted to say thank you for being there. For being kind. For being men I definitely don’t deserve. At least, not right now. I hope you don’t hate me, but if you do, I understand. This was important though. I hope you know that. Love Always…”
“Alexander,” Sebastion finished for him in a quiet whisper, and when Luca glanced up, he was smiling sadly. “That’s how he ended his other journal entries. I didn’t read them, but I thumbed through a couple.”
Luca sat back with a sigh and glanced around the room before he saw the box sitting on the dresser. “He left everything.” The journals, the mugs from the kitchen, the little spoons that had meant enough to go back for them. He left a pair of socks on the floor near the bathroom, and a sweater on the back of a chair.
If it had been anyone else, any other situation, Luca might have assumed it was a sign that he wasn’t really gone, but he knew. Even without the note telling them he was on a plane across the ocean to another country for god only knew how long, he knew.
Maybe it wasn’t him or the kiss. And maybe it was.
For now, he just needed to accept it was over.
He was the man with the phoenix tattoo, and Sebastion was one half of him. There was room for more, in the shape of a little conqueror with so much potential that Luca’s heart ached to think about it. And he hadn’t been lying when he told Xan that no one else could ever fill that space. Because no one else would ever fit.
Part II
“I saw that you were perfect, and so I loved you. Then I saw that you were not perfect, and I loved you even more.”
-Angelita Lim
Chapter Seventeen
Dear Luca and Sebastion,
I always kind of thought London would be like home, but it’s not. I don’t know why I thought that. But it’s strange. It’s so full of people. I mean like, so full of people, but it feels so lonely too. I know I can’t be the only one that feels like the inches between strangers on the bus feel like miles.
I don’t know how I’m going to figure out how to smile again. Allie says it’ll come with time, but I also didn’t tell her about our night. I still think about it, by the way. Like…constantly. I think about how it could have been longer, or I could have been better at it. How I could have turned around and kissed you, Sebastion, because right now the ache of not knowing what you taste like is pretty goddamn profound.
I fucked up—like I always do. And I don’t know how I can make it better even if I took a plane home tonight. I’m probably over-thinking it. Hell, that night was probably an offer to distract me. It’s stupid of me to assume it meant more than that. I think I’m rambling now. My head is so full of noise, and I don’t know how to make it stop.
It’s been three months since we talked, and I haven’t forgotten what your voices sound like. That has to be something, right?