SEBASTIAN #2
I nod, saying nothing for the moment. Because yes, I want that too, I want to be with him out in the open. But part of me still fears that going public, being us, will bring down a storm of judgement and disapproval on Remi. And the thought of being the one to hurt him in any way is unbearable.
“Look, Seb! That’s my house, we’re here!”
Remi tilts his chin toward a small salmon-pink cottage perched slightly above the beach, surrounded by a patch of green land. It’s a two-storey dream in the quietest, most peaceful spot imaginable.
“It’s gorgeous!” I squeal with delight. “The view is incredible…” Just a few more metres and Remi pulls up behind the house.
He turns off the engine and looks at me without saying a word, then suddenly reaches out, fingers sliding into my hair, and pulls me into a kiss so intense it knocks the breath out of me.
When he pulls back, I’m dazed, and immediately aching for more.
“Sorry if I was a bit rough, but I’ve been wanting to do that for… like, five hours,” he says, smiling shyly.
I lean in again, but Remi stops me, hands on my shoulders. He presses a soft kiss to the top of my head, his nose brushing through my hair.
“Don’t be greedy. We need to settle in first, and more importantly, eat something. You haven’t had a proper meal all day, and I am not letting you pass out on the kitchen floor.”
I pout, but it only makes him laugh. He ruffles my hair affectionately. “Come on, baby. There’ll be time for everything else… later.”
That promise is all I need. I finally step out of the car and stretch my stiff limbs. I spin around slowly, taking in the landscape, unable to hide the blissed-out expression on my face. Remi’s watching me with the exact same look.
“You never told me you grew up in a place this beautiful. It’s… breathtaking. There’s no other word for it.”
Without a word, Remi steps in behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, pressing his chest gently against my back. He lowers his head until his chin rests over my shoulder, fitting there as if it were made for it, and for one suspended, perfect moment, the world goes quiet.
I can hear his heartbeat, steady, grounding, mirroring mine. And in that instant, I know. Deep in my bones. Whatever comes next, whatever still needs to be said… we’re already something real. Something that matters.
He nuzzles the back of my ear, and I melt at the contact. My pulse races, and then, soft and low, his voice finds me, wrapping around me like the rest of him.
“What do you say we head inside, unpack, and check the pantry? If there’s some salmon, I can marinate it, grill it, and serve it with roast potatoes and a salad. We could even eat outside, if you’re up for it.”
He nods toward a rustic wooden table at the far end of the garden, flanked by two benches and perfectly positioned in the most scenic spot imaginable.
I don’t even have to think about it. “Sounds amazing, Remi. I can’t imagine a better place to be right now… Thank you.”
I lean back into him, savouring the warmth of his arms around me, the quiet strength of being held like this. Then I tilt my head up and shoot him a playful look.
“Your plan sounds perfect. The menu too. But I think you might’ve forgotten one tiny detail… Dessert.”
Remi laughs, shaking his head, then steps back and gives me a cheeky slap on the bum.
“You’re impossible, Seb. Come on, let’s get moving before it gets too late. Sunset’s the best time to eat out here.”
I follow him without protest to the car, where he retrieves my infamous pink trolley case from the boot and wheels it with ease toward the front door.
Halfway there, he pauses and starts rummaging through the umbrella stand by the entrance.
“Found it!” he announces triumphantly, holding up the spare key his mum had left for him, a grin spreading across his face.
The inside of the cottage is warm and filled with light, with that unmistakable lived-in feel that makes a place instantly welcoming.
The open-plan space is anchored by a large honey-toned wooden kitchen, flowing seamlessly into a long matching table, and beyond that, a cozy L-shaped brown sofa, scattered with cushions in various earth tones.
In the center of the room lies a thick Indian rug in deep reds and ochres, grounding everything with its richness. An old TV rests atop a low, carved wooden cabinet, something that looks like it was picked up at a market stall in Camden Town.
Clay pots brimming with leafy green plants are dotted around the space, and stacks of books sit in corners and on window sills, creating a kind of curated chaos that feels effortlessly right.
I turn slowly, letting it all sink in: the comfort, the charm, the quiet.
Remi watches me from the doorway, looking just a little self-conscious.
“What do you think? Do you like it? Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess, Maude’s never been much for tidying, and Mum does her best with everything else going on…”
“I love it,” I interrupt, maybe a little too quickly. “It’s got such a warm, peaceful vibe. It’s just that it’s so… so…”
“So what?” he asks, tilting his head, genuinely curious.
“Well, it’s just… really different from your flat in London. Not that I don’t like that too, but here…” I pause, trying to find the right words. “Here, it feels more… personal.”
He seems to understand instantly. His expression softens, and he nods.
“In Shaftesbury Avenue, Maddie picked out pretty much everything, the furniture, the finishings… At the time, I didn’t think it mattered. And to be fair, she does have great taste. But you’re right, this place feels more like me than that flat ever did.”
He hesitates for a moment, then adds, “Not that I’ll have it much longer. I can’t afford it on my own, and honestly, I think I need a fresh start. Once we’re back in London, I’ll start looking for something new.”
I reach for his hand and thread my fingers through his.
“Let’s not talk about the heavy stuff just yet, okay? I know we’ll have to face it eventually, but… just for a few hours, I want to enjoy this place with you. Let’s pretend it’s our first date, and I want it to be perfect.”
The words catch in my throat, and a flush of embarrassment creeps up my neck. But before I can panic or take it back, Remi cups the back of my neck with gentle confidence and leans in, brushing his lips softly against mine.
The kiss is tender and unhurried, and it says more than either of us could manage with words.
When we finally pull apart, we linger for a moment, foreheads touching, eyes closed, our breath falling into the same quiet rhythm.
Then Remi gives my hand a playful tug.
“Come on upstairs. My room’s in the attic. Let’s drop off your stuff and get started on dinner, yeah?”
I nod without hesitation. I don’t ask where the guest room is. We both know I’m not sleeping anywhere but in his bed tonight.
We pause on the first floor, and Remi gestures toward two doors, explaining that his mum’s and Maude’s rooms are there, along with a bathroom “strictly for the girls,” as he says with a fond, amused smile.
When we finally reach his room, I’m struck by how effortlessly he moves beneath the sloping ceiling, despite his height. It’s obvious he’s spent years perfecting the art of not bumping his head.
The attic is spacious and airy, furnished with simple pinewood pieces that suit the room’s quiet charm. Light floods in through two large skylights, one on each side of the roof, filling the space with a soft, natural glow.
A queen-sized bed rests at the center of a plush grey rug, looking warm and inviting. On one side of the room, there’s a tidy desk and a sleek wardrobe; on the other, a closed door I assume leads to his private bathroom.
The shelves above the desk are filled with books, while the ones above the bed are lined with family photos. I find myself drawn to them, unable to resist.
Most are of Remi at different ages, chubby-cheeked as a baby, awkward as a tween, brooding but beautiful as a teen. Every version of him is equally endearing. A few show the whole family together, back when Atticus was still around.
I reach for one, then stop myself just in time, glancing back at Remi for permission. He gives a small nod and walks over to stand behind me, his smile soft and tinged with something sad.
I pick up the photo carefully, holding it like something fragile. In it, Remi and his sister can’t be older than five or six. Both are grinning, all bright eyes and fair hair, tucked between two stunning parents who look just as full of life.
“So that’s where you got your looks from,” I say lightly, hoping to ease the weight of emotion that’s settled between us. “Your parents were gorgeous. And you… you were such a sweet little boy.”
I’m probably looking at him like I’ve got cartoon hearts in my eyes, but I don’t care.
Remi, on the other hand, clearly does. He gently takes the photo from my hands, sets it back on the shelf, and gives me a little nudge with his shoulder, visibly embarrassed.
“Oh, stop. I was just a kid like any other…”
His attempt at modesty is completely undone by the smug little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“You need help unpacking, Seb?”
I shake my head, kneeling to unzip my suitcase. “Nah, I’m good. Go ahead and freshen up, you’ve been driving for ages.”
“You sure? Alright. I’ll use the downstairs shower, then check what we’ve got in the kitchen. There are extra towels and toothbrushes in the bathroom drawers, help yourself. Come down when you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Remi. It’s starting to feel like… like you’re destined to keep hosting me,” I say with a small blush.
He gives me a lopsided grin and trails his fingers gently across my cheek.
“Well, there are worse fates, I suppose.”
Then he turns and bounds down the stairs, light on his feet. I linger for a moment, watching him go, unable to stop myself from admiring how his jumper hugs his shoulders just right.
Smiling to myself, I turn back to my suitcase and start putting my things away.
Tonight is going to be unforgettable, of that, I have no doubt.