Rather than Zen walking through the doors a silhouetted, familiar figure appeared. The moment a word was to be spoken Indigo woke up. The past two days of sex, sleeping, and dreaming suddenly wore on his conscience. His heart began racing. Sémillon was transitioning from slumber to an alert state as he felt Indigo move more erratically in the bed.

What am I doing— what are we doing. This is wrong. This, am I evil? I love Windhoek, why did I betray her? I’m such a piece of shit. I never should driven over here like some insane lunatic. I could’ve asked for answers in any other circumstance but I chose this path instead? What the fuck is wrong with me? Windhoek I’m so sorry. He contemplated.

Indigo got up out of bed and began collecting his things before he even got dressed. Now Sem  was fully awake and disturbed. He slowly turned over before revealing his awareness, simply watching his friend gather articles of clothing. His instant assessment was correct in thinking that somehow, Indigo feels they made a grave error. Studying his swiftness, his motion, and panic caused a lurking sensation of sadness to well up.

“Got to get out of here.” Indigo mumbled to himself.

Sem, overhearing this couldn’t simply observe anymore. “Did I do something to upset you?” He asked intently.

Indigo jumped from the surprise and looked at Sémillon. “No, it’s— these past few days. I need alone time to process everything. No need to worry I just need to head home and clear my head. You understand, I’m sure you need alone time as well.”

Sémillon nodded without speaking. He sat on the edge of the bed with his head hanging low and his arms at his sides. Indigo saw this and pretended not to notice or feel anything.

Shit. But if I leave like this, he’ll think this was like a one night stand. I have to say something. But I need to gather all my items first.

I know this fantasy was not normal at all. But it didn’t feel wrong to me. I’d been living in sadness for so long, but…I failed to see how this would make Indigo uncomfortable or place him in moral conflict. There’s no excuse for me being so rash and trapping him emotionally like that. I proceeded insisting he take drugs and I tried to brainwash him into loving me more… what the fuck is wrong with me. He honestly should leave, probably won’t ever talk to me again. Back to being alone I guess. I deserve it for ruining a perfectly healthy friendship. Sem began to tear up while crawling under the covers.

After a few minutes passed, Sem felt weight shift on the opposite side of the bed figuring Indigo was coming to say goodbye. The warmth of his hand on his shoulder instantly sent goosebumps all over his body. The hug from Indigo’s naked body, squeezing him, holding him, generated the pleasure of an immense physical bond as the blankets covered the two nestling them in a warm haven. Indigo positioned himself to make Sem into the little spoon. His arms wrapped around his stomach and chest in a tender caress sending Sem over the moon.

“I -I thought you might never talk to me again, I—“

“Shhhhh” Indigo hushed Sem. “ I love you, we have a lot to talk about, just not right now. I don’t know if this is right or wrong, but I know you, and I need help figuring it all out. Lie down, be quiet, go to sleep.”

“Yes.” Indigo whispered in compliance.

Indigo had Sem in the palm of his hands. He kissed him on the neck softly while holding him in place. Their legs were interlocked and Indigo’s arms were under Sem’s with his hands on the back of his head in a lover’s full nelson. The immersive happiness welling up inside the two crescendoed to the point of exhaustion. Sleep fell over the two yet again.

(The Next Day)

Sémillon exuded a new aura of positivity and Indigo emitted vibrant confidence. They discovered a powerful bond dousing each other in luminescent beams of pride, courage, and love. While reservations existed, questions formed, and confusion still lingered, the newly emerged couple decided it was best they remain partners.

Indigo was ready to wear the purple velvet, lacy dress with gothic adornments picked out for him. In the bathroom he applied light foundation, eyeliner, and a moderate shade of red lipstick. From his peripheral Sem watched him get ready as they prepared for the day next. When they finished around the same time in the mirror, they looked at each other as if they were meeting for the first time. Slight anxiety morphed with giddiness over their first outing together.

Indigo was wearing his dress while Sem wore black slacks, a buttoned shirt, a cashmere sweater to cover up, and a scarf.

“You’ll need this, it’s sunny but it’s freezing out.” Sem commented as he moved over to the closet. He removed a thick, fuzzy fur cape that went down to the ankles.

“It was Windhoek’s favorite. I think she’d like it on you.”

Indigo twitched at the mention of her name, almost immediately tearing up. He internally decided there’s been enough crying and took the fur.

“It’s… it’s amazing.” He replied in astonishment. One tear dripped from his left eye. The shimmer against his irises were undeniable. Even noticing this Sem stayed determined to go out and see the sunlight. He watched silently as Indigo felt the fur and the fabric in awe.

“Sem, I’ve never even touched material like this. Where’d you get it?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re in the car; long story. I’ll heat up the car, then we’ll head out.”

The restaurant was not as high volume traffic as Sem anticipated, but reservations were important nonetheless. The waitress recognized the irregularity with the new couple but decided to save questions. Regulars in the distance recognized Sémillon quickly making their heads turn at the sight of an unknown guest. No doubt him and Indigo would be the talk of the night. The looks derived more out of concern for Windhoek’s whereabouts as he hadn’t told anyone his circumstances. Whatever the intent behind the looks, Sem merely hoped Indigo didn’t notice.

“What would you like to drink, Miss?” The waitress politely requested.

“I’d lIke an afogato to start please.” Indigo delightfully answered.

“And you, Mister?”

“I’ll have an afogato also.” Sem winked at Indigo.

The charisma he displays sometimes… I’m used to that. But the goofy humorous side… this is all new territory for me, he can actually be… funny? Indigo thought to himself.

Indigo waited for her to no longer be in earshot to start conversing with Sem.

“Lovely place. The interior is exceptional, the marble, the chandeliers, the menu— I wouldn’t dare dreaming of eating in a place like this.”

“Well, now you will whenever you want.”

“The staff are friendly. I can see why you come here.”

“That obvious?”

“Well, other than turning heads mysteriously gravitating their line of sight on you, not really.” Indigo smirked and began giggling.

“I should’ve known someone like you would’ve easily picked up on that.”

“Someone like me? What’s that supposed to mean?” He reached across the table to hold his hand. Their eyes glaring into each other.

“You know, perceptive, smart, emotionally aware… you.”

Indigo’s mouth partially opened and his eyes widened.”

“I’ve never heard you say anything like that t-to me.”

“And I’m terribly sorry. For everything I’ve said. But now I will course correct that with everything I truly mean.”

The waitress returned, clearly noticing a flicker of intensity, she surgically placed the drinks adeptly to the point she wasn’t even noticed. She slipped away in pure silence awaiting their order whenever the two were ready.

They held both each other’s hands from across the table. Time around them slowed, yet conversely heart rates accelerated. Violin strums levitated in the air. The accentuated tones of piano followed suit, accompanied by an angelic trio. Everything was so perfect Indigo was overwhelmed with bliss. He couldn’t stop staring with a dumbfounded expression at Sémillon’s face of innocence, concern, and devotion.

After these past two years of dealing with his mean side… seeing this is… I don’t know. He’s a completely different human being. This is the Sémillon… the “Semi-Sweet”… who I was a friend of… and he’s mine now. He’s so…

The faint tones of Ink Spots’ maybe played in the distance:

“Maybe, you’ll think of me, wishing that I, were near.”