Part 2-Hedonism.
Part 2-Hedonism.
Back at his flat, Alex stopped at the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Miles’s cup was still on the side, Alex didn’t want to wash away where he’d put it to his mouth. The milk in the remaining tea was stagnating slightly. Touring for a three days already, Alex was going quietly mad from missing Miles, and he had no idea how to occupy himself.
He had bought a picture this morning, a design of a Brutalist skyscraper that attracted him. Shrugging the bag away, he placed it beneath the cupboard along from the kettle. Before Miles, such a purchase would never have happened, but he was glad to start seeing the world in a different way.
He wandered into the bedroom rather than the living room, and lay on Miles’s side of the bed. His favourite scent in the world, was fainter from several days absence and Alex had to burrow to get satisfied. He tried to ignore the phone ringing; Moving would mean leaving the den just as it was starting to warm up nicely. The caller rang off. A bleep told him there was a text. Grateful, he could lose himself again.
He must have dozed, his tea was cold and the sky had that grey tone of weakening light. Not for the first time, his arm was damp from tears during sleep, prompting him to sigh at himself. Daft twat, and he reached for the phone. Miles. He’d missed a call from Miles. Shit. The message….also Miles.
Where are you ? Gig tomorrow is off. Come to France. I want to make love to you in Paris, M x
Twenty minutes later was heading for the Eurostar at St. Pancras, weekend bag over his shoulder, his cold tea back next to Miles’s behind him, forgotten.