Saval didn't speak immediately.
He remained on the bench, fingers absently tracing the bracelet now circling his wrist. The stones felt warm against his skin, almost alive. Small but vivid, the carved flowers reminiscent of ones he'd seen at an artisan fair with Antonella, right before she left town. He'd passed the same stall, maybe even the same vendor, and stared at this very bracelet for seconds too long, feeling something he couldn't name.
But he hadn't bought it. Not then.
Because back then, everything tasted like goodbye. Like any keepsake would only underline what he'd lost.
And now here it was. On his wrist. From Semiel.
Part of him thought maybe Semiel didn't know its true meaning. Didn't see the tiny tag that usually accompanied these—the one declaring it symbolized unconditional love, unreserved devotion. Part of him wanted to believe it was coincidence. But another part, smaller and more dangerous, knew better.
He studied the bracelet again. Not as an object, but a statement. Then thought of the kiss.
Sweet. Slow. Startling.
Saval hadn't seen it coming. Yet he hadn't pulled away. Had met it with equal parts calm and hunger. Because this wasn't just any kiss. Not part of some game or impulsive night. It was more.
He wiped his palms on his jeans, nervous.
His cheeks still burned, his pulse still fluttered, but something warm settled inside him too. Semiel had given it gently, like asking if he was ready for something new.
And though he wasn't entirely sure he was, he knew he didn't want to lose this moment.
Saval looked down, shifting slightly on the bench. The silence between them was comfortable but charged. Until Semiel, voice soft and slightly unsteady, broke it.
—Did you like it?
Saval met his eyes. For seconds, he couldn't answer. A "yes" felt like more than affirmation—it was accepting what came next. Opening a door he wasn't sure he could walk through. But lying to himself would be harder.
—Think so, —he answered honestly.
Semiel smiled. Not big. Not anxious. Just... real. Leaned in again, like before, but slower this time. Brushed Saval's cheek with tentative fingertips, searching for hesitation. Finding none, he kissed him again.
The second kiss was softer. Briefer, even. But no less sincere. A confirmation. As if they were both trying to understand their feelings through touch.
When Semiel pulled back, his eyes shone.
—If you liked the kiss... —he murmured, barely audible— ...want me to keep giving them to you for the rest of our lives?
Saval's breath caught.
Not from fear. Or rejection.
But because, for the first time in years, part of him believed he could say yes.