Noah

"Um." He chuckled awkwardly. "I can feel that."

I smirked. Maybe I was sporting a semi. Not my fault.

"Not the happy I was talking about." I trailed more kisses along his neck and hairline.

He blew out a breath and turned around in my arms. Uncertainty was written all over him.

"Why are you telling me this, Noah?"

I brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead. "'Cause I want you to know." It angered me now, that I hadn't been more open to him before. He deserved it.

"I, uh…" He stumbled over his words, heat rising to his cheeks. "I think we're supposed to be able to see the Eiffel Tower from the other side."

I quirked half a smile and took a step back. The last thing I wanted was to freak him out, and he was clearly not ready to talk. I'd give it some time. An hour was good, right?

I was ready for any outcome, be it rejection or reciprocation. I could admit I felt it was leaning toward rejection from him, but I needed to know, regardless. Otherwise, there'd be no moving forward.

We did get to see the Eiffel Tower on the other side of the dome, and I even got a tourist to take a photo of Julian and me together. I grinned and kissed his temple, and he was smiling and blushing and trying to look composed all at once. With the stunning view of Paris in the background, it became my new screensaver on my phone.

Julian gave me another quizzical look for that.

Eventually, we began the trek down again. Knowing we were about to go into the church turned me in that masochist, and a blanket of melancholy covered me. In moments like these, I would've given anything to have my sister back. She'd been good at helping me decipher the shit tumbling around in my head.

There wasn’t all that much left to decipher, though. It was just…messy.

The staircase that led down was as narrow and stifling as the one that we'd climbed, but going down was easier than up, and it didn't take nearly as long to reach the bottom again. Once there, we didn't say much. Julian lit up a cigarette, and I didn't comment.

It wasn't the time.

"I'll head in, okay?" I put my hands down in my pockets, and after his nod, I went inside the church. Despite the crowds of tourists, and despite having no real attachment to religion, it moved you. It was quiet and peaceful, candles lit everywhere, and worshipers filling the pews with their heads bowed.

No shit, my ma had shed a tear or two in here. She'd always been emotional.

My chest felt heavier.

I lit one of those damn candles, dropped a few Euros in a box, and then found an empty pew near the back.

Thoughts and emotions swam inside me, and I didn't know where to start. It was stupid. Did I speak to my folks? They couldn’t fucking hear me.

Julian passed me, picking a pew closer to the altar.

I sighed and scrubbed a hand over my face, having no goddamn clue what to do here. I guessed I'd thought it would come naturally. I'd think back on some shit, tell my folks I missed them, and then be done.

An old lady behind me said something in Italian, but I got the feeling she was talking to me, so I looked over my shoulder and told her I didn't understand. One of the two phrases I knew in Italian, the other being a request for more beer.

She laughed softly, her eyes showing a youth her body didn’t anymore. "Ah…come se dice…you, ah, tense?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," I admitted with a wry smirk. It fell pretty fast, though. "I don't know what I'm doing. I don't really pray."

No need to tell her I didn't believe in God.

"You let…" At a loss for words, she patted her chest—or heart. "It speaks. Someone will listen." She nodded firmly. "You…too young and handsome to be troubled. Sí?"

I chuckled quietly. "Maybe. Sí, grazie." Someone would listen, eh?

She gave me another nod before she clasped her rosary beads and bowed her head to pray.

Rather than mirroring her move, I faced forward again and gazed up at the mural in the apse above the altar.

Someone will listen.

My gaze fell to my lap, and I frowned. Maybe the listener was me. Maybe apologizing to my family would help me. I'd never get answers from them, and I had to move on somehow. I couldn’t carry the guilt anymore.

If my sister and the rest of my family were here, I would say I'd done everything in my power to…well, not to cross any lines with Julian. I had failed over and over but kept trying. Nothing worked, and it had gotten to the stage where he was worth everything.