Something wakes me. It’s not a dream. Not one of my nightmares anyway. Was it a noise, maybe? It’s a nice kind of waking up. Like slowly drifting back into consciousness from a land of cotton candy. I keep my eyes closed, trying to stay afloat in the realm of dreams while my body is wrapped in a cocoon of warmth. I think I must have had a good one for a change.

One by one my senses wake up, and I become aware of my surroundings. I’m not in my bed. The sheets feel softer, and the pillow and duvet fluffier, like they’re made of clouds. They smell nice. Mostly clean and flowery. My nose also picks up on a faint metallic odour… mildly musky and slightly salty… cum and sweat. I bury my face in the soft pillow underneath my cheek, and there’s something else, something familiar, but my brain can’t really place it yet: it’s spices and honey. A unique perfume… it makes me smile… it’s his scent… Rashid’s.

The memory shoots through me like a bolt of lightning. A series of images overwhelm my brain – Rashid’s face, hurt, smiling, crying; his scar, his arms around me; whispered words that I don’t understand; his moans as he comes undone underneath me… I snap for air. I’m in a room. A hotel room. Rashid’s hotel room. We had a fight. We had sex. I’m alone. Where is he?

I look around. The room is still dark. But it’s not the pitch black of the night. There’s a shimmer of light just hiding beneath the horizon, and it paints the world in a palette of greys.

The bed is empty. I’m alone. Where is he? I can’t see his bag. Is he gone? He can’t be gone. Please, don’t let him be gone…

There’s a tiny squeaking sound coming from behind a door. Water that stopped running that I’m only realising now was splashing down when I woke up. Maybe that was the noise that woke me? There’s a line of light coming from underneath the door to the bathroom. I can hear whistling, and I know it’s Rashid. I hug my knees, bury my face between them and try to calm my racing heart.

Get. A. Grip. Dupree.

I’m a fidgety mess at the best of times, but this is world record levels of jittery even for me.

A few moments later, Rashid tries to sneak back into the room. He sees me sitting upright on the bed and gives up his attempt to be quiet.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” He whispers, quite unnecessarily. “I just felt… sticky.”

He gives me a lopsided grin as he places his bag on the luggage bench. He probably took it to the bathroom so his rummaging around it wouldn’t disturb me. His hair is still wet from the shower, and he’s wearing a fresh pair of boxer briefs. They’re dark blue with little red hearts on them. I recognise them because they were part of my birthday gift for him earlier this year.

He slips in bed beside me and wraps his arms around my waist. His skin is cool and wet. I squeal and squirm a little in pretend protest when he touches me.

“Get your cold paws off of me!” I growl at him, but we both know it’s only for show. I can feel him chuckle as he pulls me close and wiggles into position so I can spoon in front of him. My head comes to rest on one of his arms while his other hand is placed lightly on my hip. It’s not staying quiet there for long before Rashid starts trailing a finger up the curve of my waist and ribcage. He’s nibbling tiny kisses along my shoulder, and I sigh.

Mhmm… since we’re both awake…

I catch his wandering hand and gently push our entwined hands down.

“Up for round two?” I tease, already a little breathless.

“With you… always” His voice is low and husky. He playfully bites into my shoulder, and it sends an entirely different jolt of energy through my body. Jay-Zuhs…

I lean my head back against him with a groan, caught between the movement of his hand and his hips, undecided whether to push forwards or backwards. This feels so good… I’m only sorry he’ll need another shower soon.

The next time I wake up, Rashid is fast asleep next to me. The sun is up, but there’s this warm and golden glow of early morning in the air. I lie on my stomach, my head on my hands, and watch Rashid sleep. It’s maybe a bit creepy, but I’m still in awe to have him by my side. I mean, even after one and a half years of dating, I’m still puzzled how I, Wendell Dupree, managed to score this man. But especially after our fight. How is he still here?

I carefully lean in and brush a gentle kiss against his forehead. I don’t want to wake him. If this is a dream, if I’m still dreaming, I never want to wake up from it. If this is a second chance for us, I can’t blow it. I need to get my act together. I nestle into the space beside Rashid and let my head rest against his shoulder. That’s twice now that he came back here, to be with me, and was greeted by this resentful monster that my self-doubts and insecurities had turned me into.

I know you said there’s nothing you have to forgive me for, but you deserve better. I know I will lose you if I keep on going like this, and I don’t want to lose you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole life.

I’m trying to find his hand under the duvet, and when I do, I weave my fingers in between his.

Our relationship is what it is. Long-distance and complicated. And that’s nobody’s fault. None of us chose to fall in love with someone who lives on the other side of the frikkin world. But it happened, and it won’t change anytime soon. Unless I screw up royally one last time and you decide you had enough of me. I don’t want that.

I press my lips against his shoulder and glance at his face to make sure he’s still fast asleep. He is. His face is so relaxed and peaceful. His lips are slightly parted, and I can hear his steady breathing.

I promise I’ll do better in the future. I’ll work on myself. I can’t expect anyone else to fix me. Not you. Not Eli. Only I can do it. I promise I’ll do my best.

I snuggle a little closer and place my head on his chest and close my eyes.

Just be a little more patient with me, just a little while longer.

The steady ba-dum ba-dum of his heartbeat is pulsating underneath my cheek.

I love you so much, Rashid Chaudhury.

I brush another kiss on his chest, just over his heart.

I didn’t say any of these words out loud. It’s my silent promise to him and to myself that I will never freak out like that ever again. I once made a similar vow when I saw his profile pic on the messenger app for the first time, his smile and the trace of sadness in his eyes. Back then I made it my life’s mission to see a smile on his face more often and to drive off the sadness. I need to do better to make this happen.

Curled against him, I fall asleep to the quiet thrum beneath my ear and the soft rise and fall of his breathing.

It’s actually almost mid-morning (and after round three) that we make it out of bed. After a shower (and round four – hey, we have some catching up to do!), I finally emerge from the bathroom clad in one of Rashid’s clean boxer briefs and my clothes from yesterday.

There’s food on the table – oatmeal, toast, fruit, and coffee – and my beautiful boyfriend (or at least I hope that’s what he still is) standing next to it with a glass of orange juice in his hand and popping a pill into his mouth. He pulls a face and swallows. I frown, and he catches my expression.

“Just some Tylenol.”

“Are you in pain?” I ask him, still frowning.

“No,” he says, almost automatically. “Nothing a bit of painkiller won’t fix.” He adds as he sees my levelled look.

“I asked you to tell me if I’m hurting you.” I can’t believe he just let me keep going without saying a word.

“Some things are worth a bit of pain.” With a teasing grin, he slips his arm around my waist and tugs gently. I resist, reluctant to surrender quite so easily.

Since I’m not willing to come into his embrace, he closes the distance between us and starts scattering tiny kisses across my face between his words. “Don’t be mad at me. Please, januu.”

“I’m not mad…” I am, a little, but his affections are starting to win me over.

“Worried?” 

“Yes,” I breathe, annoyed. “What do you think?”

“I’m fine, really, I swear.” He kisses my forehead.

“Don’t make me drag you to see Dr Chaz.” I growl.

He chuckles softly. “I thought you’d say you’d take me to see Louis and ask him to donate some of his blood for me.”

I give him a side look. “That’s actually not a bad idea, Chaudhury.” In truth I have no idea how Louis would react if I asked him.

“No, Wendell, definitely not an option.” His tone and look make it clear – there’s no point in arguing.

“Okay, but you’ll take it easy for the rest of the day.” I won’t budge on that either.

“I will. Promise.” Rashid says and kisses the tip of my nose. “Breakfast?” 

We decide to eat on the balcony. The pool area downstairs is quiet on this mild, sunny day. We eat mostly in silence, savouring the food – which is really good – and the calm. When we finish, the stillness between us grows. I watch Rashid as he crumbles a bit of toast between his fingers, and I can feel a small knot of anxiety form inside of me again. There’s something we’ve not discussed yet, and it seems we are both unsure how to address it. Well, it can’t be helped. One of us needs to make a start.

“I better get back home. Bruno will be upset I left him alone for so long.”

It’s pretty lame using my cat as an excuse, but knowing Bruno, he’ll be half-crazed and starving by now. Thinking about the way he stayed with me yesterday, comforting me, I actually feel a bit guilty. Rashid nods, understanding. He knows my cat. The silence between us stretches. Then Rashid asks in a low voice.

“Do you want me to stay here?” He hesitates and smiles bashfully. “Or do you think Bruno will let me back into your apartment?”

I look down to hide my smile. “We might have to bribe him with some treats, but I think we can convince my watchful guard cat to grant you access to the sacred halls of magic.” I can see Rashid’s lips curl in response, but I turn serious again quickly. “Do you want to come back home with me?”

He reaches across the small table between us to take my hand. “Yes, I do.”

It maybe doesn’t need asking, but I still need to hear him confirm it. I take a shattered breath.

“Does that mean you’re giving us a second chance?” 

Rashid’s eyes widen, and I can see this gaze flicker to the bed, which is, quite frankly, a mess, and I feel bad for the maid, who’ll have to clean it up later. When I see Rashid’s look, I realise that sex (still?) means something different for us. I know what it meant for me – finding the connection between us again – but I didn’t expect it to mean the same for him, naturally. It could have been just blowing off some steam, two consenting adults having a bit of fun. But it’s not what it meant for him either.

His expression softens, and he says, “I asked you to come here for a reason, didn’t I?” Seeing my doubtful face, he laughs and adds, “Or did you think it was only to tell you to fuck off?”

“The thought did cross my mind…” I admit meekly.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Wendell,” he replies and pulls me to my feet and into a hug. This time I’m not resisting. “You’re the one that I want, Wendell Dupree. The only one. There is no world in which I don’t want to be with you. And if you don’t believe that, I will spend the rest of my life proving it.”

His gaze holds mine, searching.

“I do want to give us another chance, Wendell,” he confirms. “Do you?” 

“Yes, I do,” And just like that, the knot of anxiety unravels – gone in a flutter of wings inside of me.

Rashid quickly packs up his things, and it’s a weird déjà vu to the previous morning. He checks out of the motel, and together we take the bus back to my place. We make a quick stop at a pet shop on the way to buy Bruno’s favourite treats. “Bonkers Purrpops Chicky Licks” are appropriately named, as he goes absolutely nuts for them. It turns out bribing Bruno isn’t necessary. He’s just too happy to see us, his favourite can openers, again. We still spoil him with a lollipop and belly rubs.

Coming back to the place of our big fight – where we said the most awful things to each other – is also a little awkward. The memory still clings to the air. Maybe it’s only my imagination, but I think I can still smell my own vomit. Our empty coffee mugs sit by the sink, and my clothes are scattered across the floor where I dropped them.

“Sorry”, I say, not looking at Rashid. “Just give me a moment, and I’ll clean up.”

Rashid takes my hand and squeezes it. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll do it together.”

He offers to do the dishes. When he picks up the mug I gave him that morning, I can see it in his face – he remembers. We made up. We’re back together, but we both still feel the scars. They’ll take time to heal, just like the one across his abdomen. Hopefully our bond is strong enough to hold, and together we can drown out the bad memories with good ones. I can see a tremor running through Rashid as he resolutely places both mugs and a couple of empty glasses into the sink, adding hot water and dish soap. I wonder if he ever had any fights with Luke or… the other one, whose name I don’t even want to think of right now. Did they break up after a big, heated argument?

I think he and Luke just gradually drifted apart and then came to the conclusion they weren’t meant for each other after all. They still could have had fights before, but I somehow doubt it. Rashid isn’t the type to start an argument. Not nowadays anyway, but I can’t imagine him being much of a hothead in his younger years either. Luke actually sounds a lot like Rashid, character-wise, but this is really only based on a few throwaway comments Rashid made previously.

With the other one… well, I’d rather not think about him at all.

I start picking up my clothes from the floor. The ones I wore the night Rashid came back and the ones I flung out of my wardrobe in my frantic search for something wearable before taking the bus to the Maidstone. I fold the still clean clothes and put them back where they belong. The dirty ones go into the laundry basket. I decide to put on a load immediately, get rid of any reminders, and ask Rashid if he has anything to add. He nods, retrieves a couple of boxer briefs (including mine from the night before) and throws them onto the pile in the basket. Before I can do or say anything, his arms are around my neck, he kisses my cheek and buries his head in my shoulder. I just hold him close and rub his back.

“I’ve got to work…” I tell him reluctantly after a while. My voice slightly cracks, and I clear my throat. “And you, Mister, you have to rest.”

“Aye aye, sir!” He says with a wry smile. “Can I borrow your laptop?”

“Sure, you know where it is. As long as you lie down and do not move a muscle until I get back.”

I’ve neglected my duties as a custodian ruefully. I try to get all my daily chores done as quickly as possible, but it’s still a lot and takes me a few hours. When I get back to my apartment, it’s raining, and a gentle pitter-patter of raindrops taps against the large window front overlooking my rooftop terrace. Rashid is outstretched on my sofa, my laptop on his stomach, a mug of fresh tea on the floor beside him. Bruno is curled up by his side and licking his fur, his belly visibly full and round. Rashid looks up and smiles at me when he sees me coming in. He closes the lid of the laptop and puts it aside.

“Mrs B came over when you were gone, complaining about her leaky sink again. I think Louis and Lestat should consider investing in a new one. That sink’s been leaky for ages.” He tells me.

“It’s not the sink. She just wants company.” I sigh. “I better check up on her – and the sink – before calling it a day.”

Before I can turn around and leave again, Rashid calls me back.

“I know she’s only lonely.” He smiles. “So, Bruno and I went over for a while and were fed with tea, cookies and cat treats. Respectively.”

“Thank you.” I bend down to kiss him. It’s not exactly the strict bed rest I had in mind for him, but I’m grateful he saved me from spending another hour with my elderly tenant. “How do you feel?” 

“Perfectly rested.” As if he’d admit to anything else. I don’t even try to hide my eye eyeroll. “I also ordered some Indian takeaway for us. It’s in the kitchen in case you’re hungry.”

“Are you trying to fatten me up, Chaudhury?” 

“Maybe,” he grins.

My hand searches for his, and he takes it, squeezing it. My gaze wanders across my apartment, my own tiny world. It finally rests on my boyfriend and my cat. Life couldn’t be much more perfect than this.

So, this is the story of the first time we were broken up – even if it was only for a few hours – and how we found back to each other.

I can actually see you rolling your eyes at me. You think I was too naive, too quick to believe him. I mean, what proof did he have that he was telling the truth and that Sam was the one lying? Of course, you can say I should have trusted my boyfriend over the words of a stranger in the first place, and I didn’t. So what changed?

The thing is, I knew Rashid was lying.

Well, lying is maybe too strong a word. But I knew he wasn’t completely truthful with me. I knew there were still things he kept from me. This probably sounds weird, but you know me by now. Weird is how I roll. So, because I knew he was lying about some things, I was also 100% sure that he was sincere about other things. Including us. Loving me. And that he didn’t cheat on me with anyone else.

I always call Rashid a master of concealment, and he is. It’s part of his job and his training. He has to be, or he couldn’t do what he’s doing, like spying on two powerful, mind-reading vampires for months. If he were as easy to read as an open book, he wouldn’t be alive anymore. But I made a crack in his shell, and the crack widened the longer we were together. I got better and better at seeing the little signs, and he slowly lost the ability to hide things from me. To everyone else, he’s probably still a riddle wrapped up in an enigma, but not to me.

So, I know pretty well when he’s skipping the truth, glossing over things, or when he’s being open and honest with me. When I’m listening, that is. That was my fault during our fight.

When he talked about Gus, I noticed he didn’t give me all the details. What really happened between Gus and Sam? I think Rashid only tried to be a gentleman here – and it’s actually none of my business what two of his exes did with or to each other – so that’s fine. It’s something I actually love about him, his principles and integrity. He once told me that I’m the most loyal person he’s ever met. I don’t know about that, but loyalty is definitely something we both value.

He did say he made enemies within the Talamasca because of me and then acted like he made a mountain out of a molehill. Not the entire truth. Just trying to downplay what actually happened because he knew it would make me feel guilty. I still wished he had shared it with me. I know I didn’t force him to date me, so nothing to feel guilty about, right? But you know me…

And there’s something else. Something that I can sense but not fully grasp. Something he’s not ready to share with me. Yet? I don’t know why or what it might be. Is it something good or something bad? But it has nothing to do with his feelings for me. That much I can tell. He loves me. I’m not his “shagger muffin” and not a “fucking charity project” either. He genuinely loves me, and he wants to be with me and only me.

Does the secret make me nervous? What do you think? Of course, it does. I wouldn’t be my fidgety, jittery, self-doubting self if it didn’t. But there’s no way of forcing it out of him, and I’d be the world’s biggest hypocrite if I did. I haven’t told him about Remy either.

And I know there’s nothing about Remy in my Talamasca file. Rashid gave it to me earlier this year, and he was right: it is way less impressive than I thought it would be. Not a word about my childhood, or Remy, or what drove me to run away from home when I was barely 16. It basically starts with the time I became a regular blood donor to Louis de Pointe du Lac. It’s a bit disappointing when you think about it. Like I didn’t even exist before. Which – for the Talamasca – is probably true. What do they care about a random street kid?

So Rashid and I, we’re both keeping things from each other. We probably both know the other one has secrets. Just not ready yet for the final reveal. But as they say: We’ll cross the Mississippi when we get to it.