Rock-paper-scissors sent me to sleep on the couch in the living room, and Mark got the bedroom. I remember that, as a child, I often fell asleep near the fireplace on this couch. It was warm here, and the crackling of the fire soothed me. Only I was smaller... Now the couch seems small and uncomfortable. I toss and turn until I hear Mark's annoyed voice from the bedroom, "Stop creaking like a geezer!"

Yeah, the couch creaks every time I change position, which happens about 30 times in a couple of minutes.

"You try to sleep here!" I snap.

And Mark tries, but it only lasts ten minutes. In the end, he goes back to the bedroom, where I just got comfortable.

"Move," Mark points to the other side of the bed. And I reluctantly free some space. Mark lies down.

"Reminds me of the past," he breathes out.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you remember? Those two years when you did not speak, I had to sleep in your room, otherwise, you would not sleep at all. You could sit all night looking at the wall. When I lay down next to you, you would immediately fall asleep, but as soon as I got up, you'd wake up. I gave up and got used to sleeping on a narrow strip of the bed without changing position."

"Now I would have fallen asleep perfectly without you," I mutter and hide under the blanket.

"Yeah..." says Mark thoughtfully. "You are all grown-up now."

In the middle of the night, I wake up. The moon is shining right in my face. I get up to close the curtains but stop to look out the window. Above us, the dark blue sky is like a sea strewn with stars. In the city, it was impossible to see such bright stars, but here it seems that the house is sinking into a shining abyss. I don't close the curtain. I like the way the moonlight pours into the room like a river of milk. Mark fidgets on the pillow but doesn't wake up. I look at him in the light of the moon.

I wonder what it is like... to be with him?.. This Ian... knows. They do it, right? And they kiss each other... Everything is like in a normal relationship (which I have never had).

I lie back on the bed with my face exposed to the moonlight. And suddenly a picture pops up in my mind. I see that I kiss Mark.

I'm instantly thrown into a fever. I can't stop my thoughts. They lead on feelings, so confused and scattered. There are so many of them that it seems to me that I would drown in them. My breathing becomes unnaturally hot and shallow, and my heart quickens.

I am aroused as I've never been before. I am ready to climb the wall because of the sudden and strong desire. All my senses sharpen. I can feel Mark's breath behind me.

I keep my hands over the blanket but can't lie still. I try to think of something else, honestly... But all I see are pictures of where I am with Mark. I have to get up, go somewhere, do something...

"Ray, are you ok?" Mark's sleepy voice makes me numb. At first, I decide to pretend to be asleep, but my breathing is still too fast. "Ray? What happened?"

"Nothing," I barely utter with my disobedient tongue. "Get back to sleep. Sorry to wake you up."

Mark props himself up on one elbow and takes me by the shoulder. It would be better if he didn't do it. The distance between us has become too small.

"You are all wet! Do you have a fever?" Mark's voice sounds really worried.

"No, no! I'm fine. It's just hot." I try to turn away and fold in half.

"Ray!"

"Damn, Mark, leave me alone! I just need to take a piss!"

I wanted to get up, but my movements are somehow awkward. The sheet slides down, revealing to Mark what I hoped to hide. I can't be sure, the room is rather dark, but it embarrasses him no less than me.

He turns away. I hurriedly retreat to the bathroom. But that doesn't help me much.

I go into the living room, the fireplace is almost extinguished, and only coals are smoldering there. I sit on the carpet in front of the fireplace. Warm air touches my bare feet. Here the moon can not reach me. But Mark can.

He comes in and sits down next to me.

Doesn't he understand that I need to be alone?!

My body, apparently, firmly decided to stand to the end. I feel an unrelieved tension, and Mark only makes it more tangible.

"Are you all right?" Mark asks.

"Yes," I reply. "But I'd rather be alone right now."

It seems to me he is upset by my words. But he nods and returns to the bedroom, leaving me alone. The last ember is smoldering in the fireplace, and everything inside me is still burning.

When I finally decide to go back to bed, Mark seems to be asleep. I lie down and cover myself with a blanket. But before I had time to take a breath, I feel Mark's hand on my waist.

My heart instantly speeds up. I spent so much time trying to calm myself down, and it was all in vain. One touch and I'm on fire again. Mark's hand slides lower, and my body involuntarily arches forward. His palm moves down and stops at the elastic of my underwear. I breathe out loudly. I feel his hesitation, but I've already lost the ability to think clearly. Without saying a word, I take Mark's hand and push it down under the elastic...  And when I feel his touch, I stop thinking at all.

I am in his hands, and he handles me skillfully, rubbing, stroking, and squeezing in all the right places, making me lose my mind for a few minutes which seems ages... I think the whole forest heard my moaning...

The tension immediately goes away, being replaced by a pungent feeling of awkwardness. I do not even dare to turn to face Mark. I only hear his rapid breathing. His hand slides down my back and... that's it. Everything goes quiet, plunges into darkness, and falls asleep at once.

The next day, we strenuously pretend that everything is the same between us, and it looks completely unnatural. Because there is no "the same" anymore. Every now and then, I get lost in my thoughts, unable to forget what happened yesterday and what I felt. Mark diligently avoids my gaze and any questions. Sometimes literally. Clearly, he does not want to talk about what happened. And neither do I.

At lunchtime, Mark gets a call from work, and we head home. I am actually glad... I don't know how to deal with what happened last night, and I'm not ready to have another night near Mark.

I don't know what happened to me... to Mark... It's like we were intoxicated by the moonlight and lost our minds.

We arrive late. I immediately duck into the shower and then, citing fatigue, lock myself in the room. But I don't sleep. The moonlight pours unceremoniously through the window, feels at home, and whispers to me.

I don't remember much of my previous fantasies with which I entertained myself in the shower or other moments of solitude but apparently, they were in no way comparable to what Mark did to me.

Maybe I think too much... or not! Damn! I don't know!

I bury my face deeper into the pillow.

The picture is now constantly haunting me. There are no other fantasies. And with pleasure and shame, I continue to scroll through my memories while my hands try to repeat Mark's moves. I want to relive the same sensations.

The holidays are approaching, and Mark offers to go to his parents, but I lie that my friends invited me to stay with them. And I am left alone in an empty apartment. Well... not quite alone.

I drain the memory of Mark and me in the cabin and drink it to the bottom. It's not so vivid anymore. I need to update it... I need it again... I need more...

I look like a junkie with trembling hands and wild eyes. I thought time without Mark would help me forget, but I locked myself in the apartment and did nothing but thought about that night over and over again. On the seventh day, I decide to stop this and go to a party.

Dressing in the hallway, I hear a knock on the door. I freeze. Mark wouldn't have knocked.

I hear steps outside, then some indistinct sounds. Finally, everything is quiet. I wait for a couple of minutes before going to the door. When I open it, something falls to the floor. It's a folded piece of paper.

"Mark, we need to talk. Call me. Please. Ian."

I reread this line over and over and listen to my heart beat faster with excitement.

Mark never made up with him. This gives me a vague joy.

I'm selfish, right?

I crumple the note and put it in my pocket. Mark won't be back until Tuesday anyway.