The sun gently burned my skin as we sat at a white table. There was a huge beige parasol providing shade to the table in the middle of the vast lawn. It was my first time at Le Château. It didn't take long before a waiter approached us with a pitcher of water, filled our glasses, placed a small basket of French bread on the table, and promptly left.

"So, is everything okay with you?"

"So far, yes. I thought you would be a villain like Lisa Simpson."

"From 'The Simpsons'? Isn't she an eight-year-old girl?"

I put my hand on my face and dragged it down to my chin, showing impatience.

"Don't you read, woman?" I said, outraged. "Lisa Simpson is only the most badass villain I've ever known in my life. She's like a dog sucking on a mango. Haven't you ever read 'Suddenly Love'?"

She was laughing again.

"I don't think so," she said through a smile. "That must be why he likes you."

Silence.

Her lips touched the glass, the water flowed into her mouth, and then her throat rose and fell again indicating that she had swallowed the water. She placed the glass on the table, looked at me again, and sighed.

"Well, the reason I invited you to lunch is..."

"Marxos."

I don't usually get serious; it happens in rare moments, and this was one of them. My face became rigid, and my expression, by the way she looked at me, seemed enigmatic.

"I, well, I don't know where to start."

"From the beginning," I said, finally taking the glass and drinking some of that water.

"I guess you know I was once engaged to Marxos."

"Of course," I limited myself to saying.

"So... I'm not going to lie to you. I still love him, but he's already made it clear that he can't return what I feel for him."

For some reason, my stomach started reacting in an abnormal way. I didn't like this sensation. The fear that dominated my body. It was at this moment that things weren't going to be like in Disney fairy tales.

"I want you to take very good care of him for me."

"Stop the world, I want to get off," I said, rolling my eyes and not believing what was happening.

She seemed confused.

"What's wrong?" she looked at me.

"Aren't you going to, like, try to break us up, poison me with the French bread, kill me by blowing up the car, or get him drunk and get pregnant or something like that?"

She started laughing loudly.

"Why doesn't anyone take me seriously?" I muttered, irritated.

"There's definitely no way not to like you, Guilherme. Now I know why Marxos likes you so much," she said amid a smile. "But I want you to be careful; sometimes danger is where we least expect it."

"What? No 'Dungeons & Dragons' stuff, I don't like the Dungeon Master, don't speak in riddles."

And again, she burst into laughter. A waiter approached again with two menus. While Angelina chose what she would have for lunch, I observed the surroundings when I saw Marxos. He was walking with a man beside him, and his features were more serious, and his gaze was firmer. He turned around, and his eyes met mine. I waved and smiled. He looked at me firmly and then gave a broad white smile; it wasn't the same smile I was used to seeing—it was a malicious smile.

The man who was beside him positioned himself in front of him, and they resumed their conversation. Angelina looked at me curiously.

"What happened?"

"Huh? Nothing," I said, smiling. "What are you going to order?"

"Ratatouille, actually I ordered for both of us. Is there a problem?"

"No. Where's the bathroom?"

"To the right by the column," Angelina said, indicating the way.

"Excuse me."

I got up from the table and followed the indicated path. Le Château was much larger than I thought. There was a shaded area in the back with larger tables; there was a cupid fountain spouting water. It was a really beautiful place. Then I remembered that I needed to go to the bathroom. When I opened the door and turned to close it, my body spun three hundred and sixty degrees and was pushed against the wall.

Marxos looked into my eyes with a mischievous smile on his face. His lips passed over my neck, moving toward my ear, then he looked into my eyes again, and his mouth came to meet mine. His tongue asked for passage while he pulled me closer to his body. Then his tongue traced a path down my neck as he went down and opened the jeans I was wearing.

I was hard, and when his mouth swallowed my phallus, I moaned loudly.

"Ah, Marxos!"

He suddenly stopped, laughed, and stood up.

"We'll finish this later, my love," he said, closing my zipper and leaving through the door, leaving me alone in the bathroom.