Ours
Peter had a drawer in Noah’s wardrobe. He couldn’t really remember how it had gotten there, like a strange bruise one finds on his arm one day. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d slept in his own bed. Time ticked by but lost all logic in Noah’s presence.
LamCaf
“I saw your roommate here yesterday!” Liz sang, handing Peter his chai.
“ArchAngel?”
“No, from last year! Other Noah!” Peter hadn’t thought of Other Noah in months. A storm flashed through his mind.
Another Sky
They’d gone to dinner and now they were seated side by side, waiting for the show to begin. This date, five months after their first, had been Noah’s idea. It was Peter’s idea to buy tickets for Saturday so he wouldn’t have to bump into the ArchAngels. Gabriel was the lead, so Peter supposed he’d congratulate him afterwards. He hadn’t spoken to them for nearly a month.
Sitting beside Noah in that renovated pool, the tension of their past settled into a drowsy custard between the two of them—silly and sticky and sweet. They were building something new, something far beyond the roles and limitations of Paradise. Heaven seemed like such a chore now. There is another sky, and there is another sunshine, though it be darkness there. Peter slipped his hand into Noah’s. The lights dimmed. Time was finally on their side.