Those Days of Summer

10 - Darkness within

I woke up to the sound of thunder and wind. Chilly morning air was sliding over my naked skin, painting it with goosebumps. My hands crawled through the sheets in panic, searching for Marcel's warmth that was nowhere to be found now. A few seconds passed before my sight stabilized enough to notice his silhouette looming by the window. His fingers were clenched around the open shutters, and he was smiling ecstatically.

It took me quite a while to understand the reason behind his sudden cheer. When the first droplets of rain silver-plated his cheeks, I already knew what was going on.

"We'll have one more day," he gasped out, turning his face towards me. "Just for ourselves."

The works were postponed. There was no point in shooting outside unless the weather improved. Mom and Marco took advantage of the opportunity and left to visit friends in Lucca.

"You won't be joining us today, will you?" asked mom by the breakfast table.

There was a tint of understanding in her smile, telling me she knew exactly what was going on between me and our handsome tenant. And it didn't seem she had anything against it.

"Have fun, dear." She kissed me on the forehead later when she was leaving with the same mild expression on her face.

We've never really had the big talk about my sexuality, the great "uncloseting". I grew up in a melting pot of Milano, full of people with different backgrounds. During mom's work at the studio, during parties, during runway shows I was surrounded by eccentricity, extravaganza, controversy. And most importantly - with queer. It didn't take me long to realize it was guys that turned me on. And it had never occured weird or unnatural. Different people are into different things. Same with sexuality. I quickly accepted my queerness, took it as a fact and lived on. Although I came out to my closest friends, I never felt the need to talk about it at home. I was sure mom knew anyway. She must have known for a long time. Maybe even before I knew it myself.

"You've got the coolest mom on earth," noticed Marcel, putting the vinyl on the player's plate in the living room.

"I know."

I shut the door and it was just the two of us. Close. Intimate. Skin to skin, breath to breath, in the coziness of our tuscan hut.

I adored the heavy skies of navy blue that day. I adored the sounds of droplets hitting the window sills, the sparks jumping over the wood in the fireplace, the crackling of an old vinyl spinning in the record player. I adored Marcel's fingers going through my hair. I adored his pearly laughter when we were playing scrabble on the living room floor. I adored the gentleness of his embrace when we snuggled under the blanket on the couch.

When we were lounging in the evening, I got a call from mom. She asked me to keep the house closed, cause they weren't coming back for the night. It seemed they were having fun. I could hear the sounds of the party in the background.

"Do you think she knows?" Asked Marcel, pouring us two glasses of wine when I hung up.

"Certainly."

"I wish my parents were so cool about it," he let out a heavy sigh. "About me."

"Did you come out?" I asked, taking the glass.

"Yeah, biggest regret of my life." Marcel twisted his face, sipping his wine.

I felt like we entered some dangerous territory. Maybe I should have changed the subject. Maybe I should have just backed off with some stupid joke. But I really wanted to know. To learn something significant, anything that would grow us closer. That would make it special. That would proclaim me the knowing one among the oblivious.