Someone To Listen
“I adore your dining table.”
One of James’s prized possessions, even more so now that Regulus’s hands had touched it. It was an old oak wood dining table that his mother had gifted him as his wedding present to Lily.
Lily. Ah. A topic of uncomfortable discussion whenever it was mentioned, so he tended to ignore the 11 or so years of his life knowing her and loving her. It wasn’t as hard as you imagine; not when they hadn’t talked since the divorce. No text. No phone call. Nothing.
Lost in his own train of thought, he almost missed what Regulus had said. Then, he was distracted at how pretty he looked sitting on his sofa, slender legs crossed, and he forgot to think entirely.
“Pardon? I’m sorry.”
“Ah, don’t worry. I was just asking how long you’ve been skating. From a young age, I presume, judging by your skill.”
He blushed at the compliment as he answered.
“Well, shorter than most, I’d say. I started when I was 9. I didn’t realize how much later I joined the industry until I joined the national team though. There were people who had been on the rink since before they could walk! I mean, can you believe it?”
“I can actually, since I was one of them.”, Regulus replied wistfully.
“I pretty much grew up on the ice.”
Now James doesn’t know what to say to that. Because Regulus’s devotion to figure skating all his life was undoubtedly the reason for his success, but to miss out on something so dear as childhood was unimaginably painful to even think about. At that moment, he did not envy Regulus’s skill one bit.
“I’m sorry, I’m becoming far too melancholic, aren’t I? That’s the thing about me- conversation goes south and really badly, really fast.”
“Honestly, I’m not even mad about it, Reg. You need at least someone to listen to your emotions, or you’ll explode.”
His eyes shone with gratitude and newfound respect as he looked at James. The sexual tension was striking the sky far above them, but nobody felt the need to make the move.
With loves like these, James believes, there is no need for words. No need for identification or classification of love. All love is the same; whether it’s for your mother and your father or your lover, the sacrifices you would make for them are the same.
And in the end, no matter how far that love strays, in some way it will return. You’ll see.