His eyes looked at me differently, his face slowly approached mine, and my damn head saw everything in slow motion on top of it all. Can you believe that? I felt his warm breath on my face, and his eyes began to close, then his lips touched mine.

My eyes closed, and I let myself be carried away by his arms that squeezed me tightly against his body, his hands held me firmly, then I had a realization and my hands pushed him, taking him out of that moment that I couldn't describe.

He looked at me like a child from whom a candy they don't want to stop "eating" is taken away. And he gave me a crooked smile. I turned red the moment he did this; I could feel my face burning. And only then did I notice what was really happening—the street had come to a standstill, the elderly, those who weren't elderly, and even the children were looking at us curiously.

The sensation described next is unique and indescribable, because when I saw Mrs. Silva looking at me as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing, I knew I was dead. Now I knew I was screwed in this mess, and even before I could try to shout in her direction, she seemed to run off toward my house.

My parents!

I'm mega screwed. I'll be kicked out of the house, I'll starve, I'll be homeless, they'll want me to prostitute myself, but making money as a male escort does pay well—the last time I checked, they were salaried. But what the hell, why am I thinking about this? Oh my God, Holy Mother.

I pushed Marxos and stood up and started walking toward my house, while he did me the favor of following me.

"Gui, wait. Please," he said.

"Gui? But what the hell gave you the right to call me Gui?"

He looked at me and smiled.

"You look beautiful when you're angry," he said, laughing at the situation.

"OK, Edward Cullen wannabe, this isn't Twilight, and I'm not Bella Swan," I said, irritated.

He laughed again.

"Well, if you want to put it in those terms, it could be. It might not be, but you behave just like her."

I opened my mouth and then got serious.

"I didn't know you were a vampire and that I'm obsessed with someone I barely know."

"Feisty..." he said, laughing again.

"Oh my God, what did I do to deserve this?"

"Ah, I'm not that bad, am I?"

He holds me and puts my body against his, makes me feel the heat emanating from him, and his eyes make me stay locked to his.

"Why me?"

"Because you're a risk to yourself..." he laughed, "Words of Edward Cullen. And because I can't stop thinking about you..."

"This isn't right."

"How is it not right? Is it wrong to like someone? To want them to be yours?"

My world stopped at that moment. What do you mean? I couldn't believe what was happening, so I burst into laughter.

"Where's the camera? Is this a movie? Like the one where the guy doesn't even know he's participating to make it more realistic. Where are the cameramen?"

He laughed and held my head; he approached and once again touched my lips. This time, he held me tightly, preventing me from leaving his embrace, and since there was no escape, I let myself be carried away by it. But then a voice echoed in my mind.

"Guilherme Alencar!"

For an obvious reason, I quickly separated myself from Marxos's body. My father was looking at me seriously from the doorway of the house with Mrs. Silva by his side. Marxos looked at me and then looked at my father.

"I..."

I lowered my head and walked to my house. I could already expect some punishment that I knew would be the first and only one. But then I felt his hand intertwine with mine; I raised my face, and he smiled, and we walked toward my house where my father was looking at me in a way that I didn't know what it could mean.

"Good morning," said Marxos.

"Come in..." he said to both of us.

We passed through the corridor that led to the living room, which contained a "V"-shaped sofa in the corner near the window and my father's armchair. The TV stand was below the 58-inch LCD TV, which at that moment was showing a game between Internacional and Vasco da Gama. We sat down, and at no point did he release my hand.

"Love..." my father shouted as he sat down.

This is where I'm screwed in this mess.

Then another man entered the room, with blond hair, light green eyes, wearing shorts and a white t-shirt, and over it a red plaid shirt, as well as a pair of flip-flops. He looked at me and Marxos and smiled.

"Do you have something to tell us?" they said in unison.

"What could I say to my two fathers?"

"I'm gay..." said my father, looking at me curiously while laughing at the situation. "Have you tried that, son? Besides, you have two fathers; don't you think that would be a problem? Because, like, you have gay parents."