Chapter 15
Noah
Luca is already standing by the door when I reach our building, but he’s not alone.
A young man is standing next to him. I’m still a little too far away to make him out clearly, but that could be Valentin.
Laughing, Luca throws his head back, and the man places his hand on his upper arm.
From a distance, the two of them look so close.
My stomach tightens, and my heart stings.
He said he was only with me–but did he mean it?
I toy with the idea of just turning around and going back home when Luca sees me.
Smiling, he waves at me. Does that mean I can go to him?
Does he want me to come over? Or was that just a hello?
I take a few steps closer. Yes, that’s definitely Valentin.
He was actually pretty nice last time. My phone vibrates and a message pops up.
“Have you put down roots there, or are you coming to me?” Relief washes over me and my heart feels light.
“Hey Luca, hi Valentin.” A beaming smile spreads across Luca’s face.
“Bonjour, mon papillon.” With one hand, he reaches around my neck and pulls me towards him until our lips touch.
“Ha, I knew something was going on between you two!” Then Valentin leans toward me, whispering quietly.
“You’re going to have so much fun together.
Luca knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s the best I’ve ever had, but don’t tell him that, we don’t want his ego getting even bigger.
” Winking, he turns around and waves goodbye.
“What did he say?” Luca looks at me, furrowing his brow.
“He… um… he basically just wanted me to have lots of fun.”
Luca grins at me sheepishly. “Seems like I made a lasting impression.”
Yep, seems so, and he’s obviously proud of it, too.
How am I supposed to keep up with that? I have no idea what I’m doing.
My heart’s already racing when we kiss. Just kiss.
How ridiculous. Every single kiss feels huge to me, and while I love feeling Luca’s lips on mine, I’m constantly waiting for the moment when he pushes me away with a laugh, telling me that while it was a nice try, that’s all it was.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” The proud grin turns into a worried frown.
“Let’s talk later, okay? We have to go inside. Maybe you could… later… um, I was thinking… since we’re still working on our project… maybe…?”
“Are you inviting me over?” I roll my eyes involuntarily. Of course, he just says it so casually, as if it’s no big deal, while I’m a nervous wreck.
***
“Would you like something to drink?”
“I’ll have the same as you.” Luca stands in the doorway of my kitchen, completely relaxed while my hands tremble as I take two cups off the shelf.
“So I’ll make two coffees?” Luca’s face immediately contorts into a look of disgust.
“Ugh, no way. Since when do you even drink coffee?” I don’t, but his reaction is priceless, and I have to fight hard to look innocent and not burst out laughing.
“Water, please, or tea? Do you have tea?”
“If you’d like, I can make us some hot chocolate. I discovered this little shop that sells real chocolate in granules. And I have cream, too. We just have to whip it up.”
Luca’s face lights up. “I’ll do the cream.
Where’s the mixer?” Instead of waiting for an answer, he runs off and flings open every kitchen cabinet.
I should find this intrusive, but his spontaneous, exuberant nature is something I actually really like about him.
Luca’s impulsiveness pulls me out of my comfort zone in the most impossible situations, and I’ve never laughed as much in my life as I do with him.
I’ve probably never rolled my eyes as often either, but that’s another story.
Ten minutes later, we’re standing together in my kitchen, and I’m pouring the steaming hot chocolate into two large mugs.
Luca is scraping together the last bits of whipped cream after he’s already snacked on most of it.
I’d be so sick, and I’m curious to see what the afternoon has in store for him.
Luca isn’t feeling sick, and surprisingly, he’s actually pretty focused today.
For him, anyway. That means he only kisses me every ten minutes instead of every two, and he manages to follow a thought through to the end without staring out the window and getting lost in nothingness, or destroying the pen.
We’re really getting things done, and by the time my stomach growls, it’s already past 8 p.m.
“Are you hungry?” He looks at me, almost surprised.
“We last ate eight hours ago, I’m definitely hungry. Aren’t you?”
He nods sheepishly. “Yeah, now that you mention it, I definitely could eat. I didn’t even realize I was hungry.”
Luca says he doesn’t have a diagnosis, but I’ve gone through three screening forms and the results were clear. I don’t even want to know how smart he must be to get those grades with that attention span.
My fridge isn’t exactly overflowing, but we cook some pasta and toss a few vegetables into a pan.
Luca stands behind me while I chop, his chin resting on my shoulder, his hands on my stomach.
I can feel him relaxing behind me, his breathing slows down and his head gets heavier and heavier.
Everything is quiet, only the knife clatters on the cutting board, but the silence is reassuringly comfortable.
“Can I try some?” Luca asks as he stands next to me as I season the vegetables.
“Careful, it’s hot.” I hold out a piece of bell pepper and a piece of zucchini to him with my fork.
“Mmm, the thyme really comes through. That’s delicious. You know what would be fantastic with this? Fleur de sel.” He’s right, and I nod in agreement. Unfortunately, I don’t have any left.
We’re sitting snuggled up on the sofa. We each have a bowl on our laps, Luca has managed to spill some of his and now has three stains on his T-shirt.
It feels so natural to be sitting here with him, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
But it isn’t, not for me. Has he done this with others before?
Or is this just as special for him as it is for me?
“Hey, where’s your mind wandering?”
“Huh?” I jump in surprise.
“What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing, everything’s fine.”
He gently places his hand on my thigh and my heart bursts into flames. “Lying isn’t your thing. You’re blushing.”
Damn it. “That… um, that’s nice. Here, with you.”
Oh God, how embarrassing is this? I want to run to the bathroom and lock myself in. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Luca’s expression change. Is he laughing? Is he making fun of me?
“I think so too.” Almost sheepishly, he fiddles with his septum piercing.
“When did you get this? The piercing?”
Luca smiles as if it’s a particularly beautiful story. “It’s complicated. I pierced it the first time when I was twelve, but…”
“Wait. You pierced it yourself? At twelve?”
Shrugging, he wrinkles his nose as if to look at the small ring.
“At the time, I was in a group home near the Swiss border, my second-to-last stop before I went to live with my fathers. The people there were okay, but I wanted that piercing and no one would’ve given me permission for it, let alone gone with me to the piercing studio.
I know now that no professional piercer would’ve pierced me at that age anyway.
We weren’t allowed to have needles or anything like that, so I snatched them in town the last time I ran away before that. The ring, too.”
“You stole those things?”
Another sheepish shrug is answer enough. “Sure. My allowance was so small, I could never have saved up enough. Besides, I always had to report what I bought with my money, and I’d never have been allowed to keep the needles.”
“And then at some point you sat down in front of the mirror and pushed that needle through your nose? Just like that?” Just the thought of it makes me want to scream in pain.
“Yep. It wasn’t as bad as I expected. I just hadn’t hit the right spot. It was really crooked and kept getting infected.”
“But…” I stare intently at Luca’s piercing, looking for something crooked, but to no avail.
“Do you want the whole story or the short version?”
There’s more? I don’t think piercing your own septum can actually be topped. “I have time, go on.”
Luca smiles gently. “I haven’t told anyone this part yet.
My piercing was infected, and my case worker scheduled a doctor’s appointment to have it removed.
The night before, I ran away again. Then I ended up at my last group home, I just didn’t know it was my last at the time.
I was only there for three weeks, then they couldn’t guarantee their duty of care anymore. ”
Oh my God. “What did you do?”
Luca pauses and his eyes narrow. “I left the grounds at night. Most nights.”
Oh, okay, to some extent I can understand the facility’s decision.
“Then I went to live with Papa and Paps.” It’s the first time he’s called them that, and just the way he says it conveys so much love.
“I wasn’t supposed to go into foster care anymore.
I can’t tell you how many times I heard the words ‘last chance.’ My nose was already a big, pus-filled lump at the time.
Papa has piercings too and knew what he’s doing.
With a lot of care, it started healing, but it didn’t look good.
He promised me that when I was sixteen, I could get a new one if I took that one out and let it close up.
This is the result.” There’s something almost childlike about him as he grins crookedly, playing with the little ring under his nose.
“It looks good… the piercing… I mean. It… suits you.” Why am I stuttering here?
Can’t I just be cool for once? But Luca isn’t bothered by my verbal stumbles.
He pulls me a little closer and kisses me.
After a while, I’m sitting on his lap, his hands wrapped tightly around my waist and back, and I want it to never end.
I want him to hold me just like this forever.
But you don’t always get what you want, and I certainly don’t. This isn’t forever; I have no say regarding the timeline. I’ll take what I can get and hope my heart doesn’t break too badly when Luca is done with me.
“I should go.” He gently breaks our kiss. “It’s already late, and I have to drive home.”
“You can stay here…” Oh God, what am I saying? He obviously doesn’t want that.
“In the guest room… or wherever you want.” Why can’t I just shut my mouth? Why do I have to make it worse? “But of course, you’re welcome to go…”
Welcome to go? Have I completely lost my mind? I expect a casual, relaxed rejection, but Luca lowers his head, almost ashamed. That doesn’t fit him at all.
“I’d love to stay here, but I can’t stay anywhere else. Not without preparation. And even then it’s difficult.”
“What do you mean?” Is he sick? Does he need medication?
“I… we never figured out what happened, if anything happened at all. But I can’t just sleep in any odd room, not at night when it’s dark. As soon as I get tired, the fear sets in and I have to get out.” That sounds like trauma, which isn’t very surprising given his history.
“What do you need to sleep?”
“I can’t sleep in the dark. I have a diffuser with a light. Light and the scent of Swiss stone pine. That gives me a sense of security to sleep.”
He’s not leaving because he wants to get away from me, he’s leaving because he needs to take care of himself. I can understand that.