White Room Virgin (Room #1)

34 - Jonah

Liberated from the nagging thoughts, I finally slept deeply. In the morning, the sun beamed directly onto my face, and I felt the warmth of a soft woolen blanket against my skin. When I realized that I was lying behind Lucien and holding him in my arms, I flinched in surprise.

“What is it?” he mumbled sleepily and turned to me with his eyes closed.

“Nothing,” I replied, shoving the images from last night out of my head.

“Do you already regret it again?” he asked, snuggling up to me.

“I … no … I was just surprised.”

“That you’re gay?”

“I’m not gay.”

Lucien sat up and brushed his hair back. “It looked different down there last night, though.” He pointed at my crotch with a meaningful look.

I raised the woolen blanket higher, sat up as well, and sheepishly ran my hands through my hair. “It…”

“What?”

He didn’t bother to contain his grin as he reached for the cigarettes. Placing one between his lips, he glanced at the CD player where the lighter lay. Too indolent to move, he remained seated, the cigarette held loosely between his fingers as his eyes lingered on me. Had I not already been undressed, I might have felt as though he was peeling away my layers with his gaze.

The buzzing of my phone was a relief. I sprang up, hastily slipped into my shorts, and rummaged through my jeans. It was a message from Simon.

“ Hello, Jonah, Happy New Year! Back in town? Are we going to see the movie tomorrow?”

“ Of course. Happy New Year to you too,” I texted back, then tucked the phone away again.

Before I turned back to Lucien to face an unsettling truth, I slipped on my shirt and took a deep breath. Contrary to my expectation that he was staring at me, he sat cross-legged under the woolen blanket, cradling the ashtray in his lap. He smoked his cigarette and absentmindedly watched the embers.

“I don’t want you to misunderstand me,” I said with uncertainty.

His eyes darted up, staring at me with both fear and hope.

“I have to digest this first,” I explained, struggling for words. I realized that I somehow lacked the vocabulary to talk about such things. “After all … you’re a man.”

Lucien’s face brightened a little. He took a deep drag from the cigarette and blew out the smoke. Then he stroked his face. With his lips pressed together, he looked at me again and forced himself to smile. “Why are you fighting it? There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Do you even understand what I’ve done?” After a brief moment of silence, I gave him the answer myself. “I’m going to hell. God wants nothing more to do with me. I can’t imagine what will happen when my parents find out, which I hope will never happen.”

“Well, then at least we have something in common,” he said rather casually and knocked the ash off his cigarette.

I was taken aback, unsure if he had intended to reveal so much, given his sudden tenseness. He seemed unaware that I knew his story, making his vulnerability all the more surprising as he gazed at me like a wounded animal. “My parents don’t want anything to do with me,” he murmured softly, shoulders sagging. With a trembling exhale, he continued, “And… I’m sorry for putting you in this situation. I’ve been grappling with it for weeks … lost in my own turmoil.” His voice filled with remorse as he bowed his head, unable to meet my eyes. “I know I’m not responsible for his death, but … it haunts me. I never meant to drag you into it.”

“Martin told me about it before Christmas,” I admitted. “I’m sorry for the loss.”

Lu grimaced and inhaled a nervous drag on his cigarette. He glanced up at me again. “You’re not his replacement.”

“You already told me that yesterday.”

“I just wanted to make it clear again. You’re really important to me, Jonah. And … I was also so confused because I … fell … in love with you.”

The weight of his words took time to sink in. I stood there, stunned, my gaze fixed on him. I struggled to find the right words in reply. It dawned on me that my feelings for him ran deeper than I had felt before, yet I knew I had much to learn before expressing them as effortlessly as he did.

He seemed to be amused by my awkward manner. His face brightened again and he beamed at me with a broad grin. “Come on, be honest. You’re into me, whether you want to admit it or not,” he remarked. Satisfied, he stubbed out the cigarette and set the ashtray aside. “You should be proud of yourself for finally acting on your own feelings.”

I felt a little offended but was relieved that the gloomy mood had passed.

“But I’m not gay,” I replied emphatically.

“Oh yeah, then where’s your girl? Because I don’t see one here.”

“Stop it!” I demanded. “I just … like you. I also would if you were a woman. It’s not my fault you’re a man.”

Lucien appeared surprised at first, then attempted to stifle his laughter. But my serious demeanor made it impossible for him, as he burst into such hearty laughter that he clutched his stomach and fell sideways onto the pillow. When I saw his white teeth flash, I remembered the photo hanging on the wall in his room. The photo of him and Phil, where he was also laughing so hard you could see his teeth. It was the first time he’d laughed like that for me, so I went to him and knelt down next to him. He calmed down again and sighed.

“No, please,” I said. “Don’t stop laughing.”

He dragged me on top of him and kissed me passionately. I resisted at first, but when he stopped and looked at me, I wanted more. I hesitantly touched his beautiful lips. “You know,” I said softly, “I meant it back then when I asked you what you wanted from me.”

He stroked my cheek tenderly. “Everything. I want everything from you. Your heart and your soul.”

The gravity with which he uttered those words sent a shiver down my spine. “You are the devil.”

“Maybe…” He laughed and grabbed between my legs. “But you really aren’t an angel either.”

***

I didn’t return to the shared house until evening. As Martin stepped out of the shower, adjusting the towel around his waist, I closed the door behind me. He regarded me with a puzzled expression.

“Hello, could it be that you were home yesterday?”

“No … well … yes,” I mumbled and wanted to disappear into my room.

“Wait,” he said suspiciously. “What have you been up to?”

Up to?

The scorching heat rushed into my head, leaving me dumbfounded as I stared at him. “I didn’t … do anything.”

Martin narrowed his eyes, as if he was scanning me from top to bottom for lies. I was definitely now blushing as I gripped the doorframe.

“I … was with Lu … in the studio,” I mumbled.

God, why are you telling him this?

Martin smiled mischievously and pushed back his wet hair. “Is he still there?”

I frowned, unable to get another word out.

Could it be that he …

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

My jaw dropped. I had summoned up all my courage to make it clear to Lucien that I wanted to be with him. The fact that Martin was so relaxed about the whole thing really upset me.

“Who…?” My voice was no more than a whisper.

“Who do you think?” Martin laughed. “Lu is the worst actor there is. And Steven can’t keep a secret anyway.”

I stood there tensely, my nails digging at the doorframe.

“Relax, Jonah. It’s not a big deal. I’m happy for you. For the both of you. That is a good thing.”

I forced myself to nod and tried to take a deep breath.

“Are we eating together?” Martin asked.

“Yes.” My voice sounded strange to my ears, but Martin didn’t seem to notice and had already disappeared into his room.

He’s happy … for us? Oh God!

As if in a trance, I wandered into my room and pushed the door shut behind me. And then I stood there, in this white room with nothing but a bed and a lamp, and suddenly felt so out of place.

My thoughts were already wandering back to Lucien. I could still hardly believe that it was him I wanted. His scent alone, albeit mixed with cigarette smoke, made me weak. And that smile! Holy Mary, Mother of God!

I knelt in front of the bed and gazed at the white wall, exactly where Jesus would have been placed on the cross—if Lucien hadn’t beaten him to it. I pulled the suitcase out, pushing the training clothes aside to reveal the collected poems. I had neatly stored the colored sheets.

When I became aware of the emptiness of the room again, I remembered Lucien’s words. He had called it a white cube . A museum space that at least had more potential than a prison cell.

I looked at the colored sheets in front of me and then back at the plain wall. A little color would really do the room good. A smile spread across my face.

What would Lu think about that?

THE END

Next up is the following book in the Room Series

Dark Room Junkie