Page 52 of White Room Virgin

My thoughts returned to Lucien again. His warm body snuggled up to me while his lips devoured me.

Damn it! Stop it already!

My thoughts were almost driving me mad.

I’m not gay! I’m not into men!

My eyes wandered across the screen to Simon. He was typing with great concentration, then he took the pen and wrote something down in a notebook. Lost in thought, he shifted his jaw back and forth, continuing to type as he referenced the book’s open page beside him.

I noticed his slim body. You could tell he was athletic, even through his sweater. His broad shoulders conveyed strength, while the wide neckline offered a glimpse of his prominent collarbone. I glanced past his pronounced Adam’s apple and admired his handsome face. His brown hair waved slightly and matched the color of his dark brown eyes. I hadn’t noticed how wide his brows were before, but it suited him. Together with his angular cheekbones, they created a balance in his face thatgave him a very likable look. His lips were also beautiful. A little narrow, perhaps, but well-shaped.

However, the thought of kissing Simon left me cold. I tried to push my fantasy further and imagine him performing oral sex on me, but I felt no arousal.

There you go. Proof enough. I’m not gay.

I noticed Simon peering at me questioningly, so I put on a sheepish grin, just shook my head, and tried to concentrate on my work again. We continued working like this until my stomach growled around half past seven.

“I’m hungry too,” Simon said and packed up his things. “See you on Sunday?”

Oh … the church.

“Um, I’ll see if I can come,” I replied vaguely. The last few weeks had shown me that it was better not to make any more promises that I might not be able to keep.

We said goodbye at the streetcar stop and I walked home. Anything that delayed my return was fine for the time being, but it was too cold for me to take any more detours.

As I entered the apartment, I heard Martin’s voice. “Yes, everything’s fine … mhm … see you then.”

I placed my bag down and entered the kitchen. Martin was just putting his cell phone away as he moved toward the sink, where there was a large colander full of steaming spaghetti. There were empty plates on the kitchen counter next to it, and Lucien was sitting in his place with his elbows on the table and his forehead resting in his hands. A lit cigarette clung between his fingers and a bottle of beer stood in front of him.

“Hello, Jonah!” Martin greeted me. “You’re just in time.”

“Hello.”

Lucien straightened up. His gaze slid past me to the window and lingered there, staring absently into the darkness.

I couldn’t help but stare at him. He appeared tired and exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes.

Has he lost weight?

“Sit down,” Martin said benevolently and placed a full plate in front of me.

I sat down and wiped my damp hands on my pants. Martin then set a plate down for Lucien and himself and sat next to me. He smiled at me but couldn’t hide how tense he was. When I reached for my fork, he laughed in surprise.

“What, no table prayer?”

Oh no, not good. Please behave normally, Jonah!

“Thank you … for the food.”

“Nonsense! Get on with it!” he said, amused.

After the first bite, I realized how hungry I actually was. Unknowingly, I had subjected myself to food deprivation. At that moment, it felt like I hadn’t tasted anything between my teeth for the past two weeks. I devoured the food without much attention to chewing, blocking out everything around me in the process. For a brief moment, it was just me and the noodles. As I emptied the plate, I exhaled a sigh of relief and glanced around.

Lucien’s plate remained untouched as he continued to gaze out the window with a sense of listlessness. When he took a sip of beer and realized that the bottle was empty, he pushed himself up from the table and got another one from the fridge. It was obvious he hadn’t just had one beer. He could barely stand upright. Visibly happy to have made it through the kitchen, he plopped back into his chair, opened the bottle, and took a sip. As soon as Martin pushed his own empty plate away, Lucien lit a cigarette.

The silence was oppressive.

Has it been like this all along? Or have I been so busy eating to notice?

---