I waited, I don't know for what, I don't know for how long.

After Gio had disappeared beyond the glow of the streetlights, I stood in front of the pub with the persistent sound of rain beating down on my umbrella.

"Nicola?" Manuel's voice behind me made me turn; he was peering out from the door again. "Where's Gioele?"

"He went back to our room," I replied without offering further explanations. I felt strange. I felt empty.

"Oh. Do you want to go back too, or do you want to come in?"

What did I want? I didn't know what I wanted. Or rather, I knew what I wanted and didn't know how to get it.

I closed the umbrella, welcoming the hundreds of droplets that hit me in the space between me and the pub.

Manuel made room for me to enter and pointed to the table in the corner, squeezed between music, bodies, and a heavy scent of crowd.

Rick had taken the spot against the wall. There were already two beers foaming on the table and a bowl of chips.

As soon as Manuel and I sat down, Rick's gaze left his phone screen for just a fleeting moment. "Where's the little chick?"

Did they really call him that in the kitchen on the ground floor?

"He went back. He was tired." I mentally bit my tongue for that last addition. Why did it matter why he wanted to go back? He didn't need an explanation.

Rick abandoned the little game that had held his attention and pocketed his phone. "So, what's going on between you two?"

Manuel jumped as if Rick had just cursed. He grabbed his beer mug and buried his face in it.

"What do you mean?" I leaned back in my chair. I was ready to start a fight.

Rick shrugged. "We thought you and him were a thing. I don't know."

"Riccardo!" Manuel's eyes widened. He turned to me, and even in the chaos of that place, I could see that he was blushing. "We didn't think anything. It's none of our business."

"Oh, come on!" Rick scoffed, pulling out his phone again, ready to resume his game. "It's no big deal. Fooling around with another guy is standard teenage experience. We've all done it."

"Not me!" Manuel raised his voice, almost outraged. Then, with eyes full of embarrassment, he muttered, "Not that there's anything wrong with it. Just that I haven't done it."

I snorted unintentionally. I hated that kind of reaction, especially from someone I kinda liked.

"Listen. There's nothing between me and Gioele. And Gioele isn't gay. So leave him alone."

"But we like the kid!" Rick chuckled. "He makes kitchen work... exciting."

"Oh come on, Rick..." Manuel murmured into his beer.

"No, it's true. This morning he turned on the microwave with a fork inside. You should have seen Michela's face when the first sparks flew!"

At that moment, I had a strange feeling, as if time were slowing down and the noise all around was muffled. I realized I didn't want to be there, with those two guys I barely knew.

Why didn't I follow him in the rain?

Why didn't he ask me to come back with him?

I stood up just as a waiter managed to make his way to our table to ask me what I wanted to order.

"I'm sorry," I replied to the waiter, a little to him, a little to the two seated, "I'm tired too. See you tomorrow."

...

When I stepped out of the hotel elevator, I was still dripping wet. The hallway leading to our room was dark, except for the emergency light above the stairs, so I didn't immediately notice the strange blurry shape flattened against the base of the door.

"Nico?"

I squeaked, jumping like a mouse. And right after this stoic demonstration of courage, my eyes adjusted to the dim light, and I could make out the figure of Gioele sitting with his back against the door.

"W-what are you doing there, on the floor?"

He tapped his head against the wood. "I forgot the key card."

"Oh. But... you could have called me. I would have come back."

I could discern the contours of his pensive face. "I think I forgot my phone too, but anyway, it's not so bad here. The carpet is soft." He ran a hand over the carpet and then stared straight ahead.

I placed my umbrella next to his and slowly lowered myself. I leaned my back against the door. We were close.

I placed both hands on the carpet, and it was indeed soft.

"Why did you come back so soon?" Gio asked.

"I realized that I'd rather be here in silence with you than out there talking to them."

Gioele made a sound with his lips and resumed stroking the carpet. His hand brushed against mine for a moment, and I felt the bandage on his thumb.

Take his hand.

Take his hand and kiss him.

"The internship is almost over," Gioele murmured softly, as if he were talking more to himself than to me. "It has been like getting whiplash. We dipped our feet into a microcosm and now we're going back to our lives. It's strange."

That moment of madness had passed. His hand wasn't on mine anymore, and I remembered that if I had kissed him, and it had gone wrong, Gioele and I would have been forced to spend those last few days in the deepest embarrassment.

"I like being alone," he said in that semi-dark silence, and suddenly I felt like an intruder. He tilted his head just enough to look at me. "But I like having you here, because with you, it's like being alone and together at the same time."

For some reason, my heart started beating faster. Maybe it was just his gaze on me that was doing this to me.

"I don't understand what you mean..."

Gio shrugged and resumed stroking the carpet. This time his hand repeatedly brushed against mine, as if seeking contact intentionally.

But he wasn't looking at me anymore. I never knew if he wanted to keep me at a distance or closer.

"You're not out of place." Those words came out of me with almost comedic seriousness.

And indeed, he laughed. He turned again, and with a low, conspiratorial voice, he said, "I've spent the last twenty minutes stroking a carpet."

I laughed too, softly. We were like two children exchanging secrets.

"Yeah, okay, you're weird." His eyes sparkled with amusement. And if I could see his eyes, maybe he could see my smile. "But you have a place."

"Where?" His voice became serious, as if he hoped to receive coordinates.

A million possible sappy answers invaded my brain, all a different combination of here I am, I'm your place.

But it wouldn't have been true because I didn't want to believe that without me, he wouldn't have had a place in the world.

"I don't know," I replied instead. "I think it takes time to figure it out. And I think it could be fun to find out."

"Fun." His mouth tasted the flavor of that word, curiously.

If we searched for his place together, that journey could also be something more than just fun.