I am going back home. Mark is not here. I hope his project is okay. I find a meal in the refrigerator. It's my favorite lasagna. The lump stands in my throat again. And I can't swallow a bite.

I'm just waiting. I keep my hands away from the phone. My gaze is fixed on the clock.

I wake up past midnight. I have no idea how I fell asleep. I fell asleep right on the couch in the living room. I am covered with a blanket.

I jump to my feet, almost fall. I feel dizzy. I'm still sick or maybe I'm hungry or excited. Hope stitches my body with thin threads and leads me like a puppeteer. I'm not knocking on the door to Mark's room. Thank god, it is not locked. He sleeps in his bed alone.

Not alone anymore. I climb up to him and inhale deeply. Everything inside me flares up. I don't know what to do with his body, but my hands do.

Mark wakes up.

"Ray? Ray, what are you doing?"

No, I do not have the strength to speak, the fire moves my arms, legs, owns my body, but can't speak.

Mark's body is hot. He resists, but I can't stop. I do not want.

"Mark, please," I whisper.

Mark's lips are hot. I reach for them. Mark doesn't return the kiss for a long time. But in the end he lets me in. I'm out of breath, but I don't care. Mark becomes my air. And then he becomes everything else. As if the world outside of his hands does not exist. I'm delirious. Maybe I have not fully recovered from the illness, or from the pills. Maybe I'm dreaming all this. I never felt Mark all over my body as I do now.

And the hunger that was in me is changing beyond recognition. This is not a hunger of suffering, it's something else. It feels like it can't be quenched. But not because something I want is beyond my reach but because I need more. I need him to keep going.

Mark goes down, I arch forward. No, no. I need more. Much more. I turn around and nuzzle into his knees, go up and rest my head on his inner thigh.

I open my mouth.

I do not feel disgust... although I thought I would... no hesitation, although I thought I should have. I don't know what I am doing. I repeat after Mark. At least I try. But I can't hold back. I can't breathe, I can't...

And then everything explodes. I try to pull away from Mark, but he won't let go of me.

I fall asleep instantly. In my thoughts I tried to get up, tried to say something, even said it, but in fact I was already asleep. And I woke up only when the sun had flooded the whole room with light. I was alone. Naked. Across Mark's bed, which looked more like a field of a battle. The battle I finally won.

I'm hungry now. And I remember about lasagna.

I eat it gratefully and can't stop smiling. However, gradually the ease goes away. I recall that I skipped classes three days in a row. And that Ian exists... Mark will talk to him, won't he? He chose... chose me?

He told me that he would not sleep with someone for whom he does not feel anything. And he confessed to me. He said that he had loved me all this time... And he could not stop loving me. Ian can't compete with time, at least here it was on my side. And now this is my Mark.

Although I feel like Ian won't give up so easily.

I drive away these thoughts, I try to put myself in order. I call Ted asking about missed classes. I walk around the apartment. The closer the evening gets, the more worried I become.

To say to myself that Mark and I are now in a relationship was not difficult. But the closer Mark's returning from work, the less I understand what this means.

I've never been in a relationship before. And with Mark it's even more difficult. I try to change our relationship. But what the hell does it mean right now?!

I hear Mark open the apartment door with his key, and I can't think of anything smarter than running to my room.

Heart beats in my chest, counting Mark's steps down the hallway to his room, and then to my door.

"Ray, are you sleeping?" Mark knocks on the door. I open it.

The word "awkwardness" should now appear in the air. Right over our heads.

"How do you feel?" Mark asks. He is much better at mastering himself than I am.

"Fine," I nod. "How is your project?"

"Needs a second revision." He replies. "Are you hungry?"

I recall that I successfully finished the lasagna, but I didn't cook anything for Mark.

"I brought Chinese food." Mark is ahead of my thoughts. Now in each of his phrases and each of his actions, I see how my shortcomings are emphasized.

I follow him, we sit in the living room. On the table there are boxes of noodles warmed up in the microwave. Chicken in sweet sauce, glass noodles with japchae sauce. Mark turns on the TV, we eat in silence. Like every one of our last evenings. Only today everything is different. I glance furtively at Mark, want to catch his gaze, but I'm afraid to meet his eyes.

Mark finishes eating first.

"You're kinda quiet today. Are you sure everything is all right?" He asks.

I have the feeling that I have swallowed both Chinese sticks. Why does he act as if nothing happened yesterday?.. Like the last time, then we were in the mountains. Or does he want it to be so? I'm completely confused. Therefore, I can't answer Mark's question.

He begins to clean the table.

"Yesterday..." That's all I could utter. Mark tensed up noticeably. He put the boxes back and sat down again, looking at me. He waited. And again I could not say anything.

What should I say? "I love you, Mark"? No I can't... "I felt good yesterday"? Oh my god...

Along with my silence, Mark's doubts multiply. He turns away and says in a completely different voice:

"It doesn't have to mean anything."

I flare up instantly.

"What do you mean?!"

"You were sick. You were not yourself. You didn't understand what you were doing."

"Do you want it to be like this?" I get to my feet. "Do you want to make a martyr out of yourself, suffer your love for me and run to Ian? You can do it right now! Go! Go to hell!"

I slam the door to my room. Anger sits on my bed and looks at me with dark eyes. I sink to the floor.

Mark, you raised me badly. I do not own my words, my body, or my feelings. I don't even know if I love you or not. All I know I can't stand if you stay with Ian. And don't care if it's just my selfishness.

I go to college, attend classes... Just attend. I don't hear anything, I don't learn anything.

Mark goes to work. In the evenings, our doors are tightly closed. And the only thing that calms me down is that he is at home every night. And Ian doesn't come anymore. We are locked in our cages, but there are two of us.

My birthday is in a month. I will turn 19. It looks like a borderline to me. Like a finishing tape. I will cross it and turn into someone else. And I will be closer to Mark.

This is just a figure. But one figure also separates one day from another. And then everything is reset and a new cycle begins. I believe that it will be the same with me.

But something tells me that a month of silence will not play into my hands.

I still don't understand my feelings. Mark is in no hurry to help me. Perhaps this is right... Perhaps he considers me old enough to figure it out myself.

I wonder where Ian has disappeared?..