Being together.

That was what Nick loved the most about his relationship with Brian: being together, even if both of them were busy doing different chores and without the need to fill the silence with words or useless conversations just because they couldn’t stand the absence of words. Their staying and spending time together wasn’t the sticky type, like they had been glued together and couldn’t survive even an hour separated from each other: they both had lives, an individual normality made of habits and routines born long before they had met each other. But just as natural as it had been meeting and getting together, they had been able to create their own routine, a perfect match of situations that could be easily spent together rather than dealing with them in two different parts of the city.

For that reason, those days when none of them had classes and he didn’t have to go to the museum, Nick preferred to catch up with Brian at the cafeteria, sitting down in a table at the corner, books opened wide in front of him and his omnipresent drawing notebook. The bar was the perfect place to get inspiration, seeing the wide and varied range of people who stumble upon the cafeteria every day: from simply college students to families, passing though tourists and businessmen.

That particular afternoon wasn’t different from the others: his books had been long forgotten while drafts and sketches took up all the space of the table. Nick was about to get up and get another cup of coffee, hoping to steal a kiss from Brian if he wasn’t busy, when the couple just entered caught his eyes: the two boys, maybe a few years younger than him, were talking to each other and laughing at some jokes that only them could understand. It didn’t take to be a genius to understand that their relationship went deeper than a simple friendship, had not been for their hands intertwined together and those looks that spoke about love.

Nick didn’t waste any time: he took his pencil and started drawing on a blank page, gathering all the details before he could forget them: black curls, the eyes of a warm hazel shade of brown and the lips curved in a smile that reminded Nick of Brian’s; another pair of eyes, holding a particular and rare trace of emerald, and a pale skin, just like porcelain. The shorter boy was looking at his partner with an expression that Nick was sure was the same he held when his eyes would find and fall upon Brian, a look of devotion almost as if the sun rose in their eyes and shine only for them.

“I know I keep saying it again and again but you’re so talented.” Brian’s voice didn’t catch him by surprise but warmed Nick in a way he never knew it was possible.

“Flatterer.”

Brian stood behind Nick, placing a cup of coffee on the only place left free on the table. “They usual come here in the afternoon. One of them is studying at the Julliard.”

Nick stopped drawing and lifted his eyes, observing the couple. “You can clearly see how much they love each other. It’s something so beautiful to witness. They’re beautiful.”

Brian’s arms came around Nick’s shoulders, a warm cheek was placed against his. “They remind me of someone.”

“Who?” Nick asked curious.

“Us.”