Mint and apricots

46. Like sunshine and strawberries

When Gabriel finally parted from his lips, it seemed to Sam that not only silent and still seconds had passed, but whole days of euphoria. Days of untroubled laughter, summer sun and sea water that pleasantly pinches the skin, days spent eating strawberries on a dock, between one dive and another, or conquering the unreachable peaks of distant regions.

The thought of never having gotten a kiss so full of dreams and hopes invaded Sam's mind, but only until Gabriel opened his eyes, smiled at him with what must have been pure embarrassment and, incredibly, blushed a little. It was nothing accentuated, barely a splash of color on his cheeks, but Sam added that vision to the marvels he had experienced with that kiss.

Even before the youngest was able to remember how to connect his mouth to his brain, Gabriel broke the spell with his first words.

"You're still burning up."

He pronounced them in a tone of voice which equally divided between apprehension and sweetness, with the result that Sam continued to be unable to get even a single syllable out of his throat.

He wanted to ask Gabriel what had just happened, where that kiss had come from, but he wasn't crazy enough to want to ruin that moment by demanding a logical explanation that no one could have given. He wanted to ask Gabriel if it had been an excuse to take his temperature, but he didn't feel confident enough to lighten the mood with a joke. Besides, he liked the solemnity of that instant. The air around them seemed to still sparkle thanks to the unexpected rendezvous of their lips.

After a few seconds he spent holding his silent gaze, Gabriel wet his lips and pulled back a little, returning to what by then was his part of the sofa.

"You should... we should... let's get you to bed," he settled after a bit of out of character stammering, getting to his feet before regaining the courage to look into the other man's eyes.

By then, Sam noticed, the usual fire, the one that embodied the audacity and the leonine vitality that burned within Gabriel, had returned to join that whole new delicacy of him.

"You need to rest," the landlord added in a whisper.

For a moment, just a moment, Sam considered protesting. He had already slept nine hours straight that same afternoon. However, in all honesty, he had to admit that he still felt exhausted. He could have blamed the emotional spikes of the last few hours, the flu, the mild sleepiness transmitted to him by paracetamol or – as it was more likely – a combination of all three of those factors. Whatever it was, he didn't feel very far from the moment when his eyelids would have closed spontaneously because of his tiredness. But that didn't stop him from finding a good reason to object anyway.

"I can't take your bed. Not again," he said, moving away from the back of the sofa to drag himself with his elbows on his knees and to rub his eyes with his fingers. His head still ached, but it was a distant, tolerable throbbing. "You need a good night's sleep too. Tomorrow is an important day, isn't it? I'll be fine here on the sofa, don't worry about me."

Gabriel was amazed that, in the midst of all that commotion of memories and confidences, Sam could be caring enough to give a thought to the play that would have had its debut the next day. Those words made his smile a bit larger, but did not make him abandon his expression of quiet victory.

"I'm sorry," he announced, extending his right hand as if Sam needed it to emerge from a ditch. "This decision is up to me and is not negotiable. On top of that, this sofa wouldn't be big enough for you even if you were to stay curled up in a fetal position all night."

Sam was dying to contradict him to limit his wonderful hospitality, but he was too weak. He also knew that, in any case, Gabriel would have won the argument. So he grabbed the hand that had been offered to him and let Gabriel help him stand up and reach the upstairs bedroom.