The evening ended with me checking on Rocco, picking up his teddy and tucking them both back into bed. I changed into some pyjamas and lay down for a moment. I had missed my bed when I was in Paris, and now I missed the hotel bed. I missed looking over at Nathan when I woke up and smiling. I even missed his snoring, to an extent. I could probably live without that one.
I thought about messaging him, but decided against it. It must've been casual. Nathan has told me all about his hookups, and he hates nothing more than the guys who keep texting him afterwards. He must not be a relationship type of man, which is fine, because I couldn't. It's better this way, hopefully we can still be friends. I don't think I could talk to anyone else like I talk to Nathan. I enjoy his company.
I did message Priya however, who told me all about her week and plans for the holidays. I like talking to Priya, she's funny, and we have the same philosophy for teaching: "Respect is earned."
I didn't end up falling asleep until the early hours of the next morning. I couldn't stop thinking about Nathan, and our final night in Paris. We shouldn't have done it, not even because of the fallout, because we were specifically told not to. We could get fired. We should get fired. It was unprofessional, and the worst part was that I enjoyed every second of it. It's one thing to say you're gay, in theory. In practice is a whole other can of worms. I don't understand where I got the courage, or if I even had it in the first place. I don't know what is going to happen, but a small, shrivelled up piece of my heart wants Nathan to message me through the night announcing that he likes me. Fat chance though.
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Baba Or Babe?
أدب الهواةYoussef Farouk has a big problem, a rather a little one: his son, Rocco. How will he navigate his new relationship with Nathan while Rocco spends his days trying to keep his Baba for himself?
