Page 156 of Silver Sweet

“That is real pain,Phoenix.” I come out of my cocoon to shove his chest.

He takes the opportunity to pin me to my back. “What’s wrong?” He clutches my face with one tight hand, so I don’t look away.

I almost smile. Okay, I do kind of smile. Embarrassment stampedes away as I come face-to-face with his deep concern and affection for me. “You don’t want to know what’s wrong,” I say. “It’s horrifying, gruesome, gnarly.”

“I do want to know because if it’s my fault?—”

“It is your fault. It’s all your fault,” I tease.

Phoenix rolls his eyes and glares at my rising smirk. “You’re fucking killing me.”

“Great, we’re even. You just killed me.” I sigh out to add in a slight cringe, “I came on your sheets.”

He chokes on a laugh. “That’s it? Jesus Christ, you are so fucking?—”

“Handsome. Pithy. Intelligent beyond my years.”

“Dramatic and arrogant.” He kisses me, and I feel his smile against my lips before he says, “We’re going to shower, throw the sheets in the laundry, then order takeout. You want ramen?”

That’s his favorite. “You would eat ramen at my funeral.”

Phoenix is smiling even more. It’s maybe the most I’ve ever seen him smile at one time. “You’re going to survive this, Tom.”

“I know,” I say more seriously. “Cobalts never die.”

36

TOM COBALT

That same day at Phoenix’s place turns into a night worthy of remembrance, of never forgetting. I want to immortalize the minutes with him as we devour ramen in his tiny living room. I wash out the bowls when we’re done, and he’s surprised I can cleanwell.

I’m only slightly offended. Mostly, I’m reeling with ideas. We both can’t stop talking chords, beats, and lyrics. Music is all I hear in his apartment, and nothing is playing. No stereo, no soundtrack other than the ones we share in our heads.

“Like this.” He taps my thigh to demonstrate a steady beat while I lie against his chest on the couch. We’re both just in boxer-briefs. He lent me his underwear, and they look so good on me, I’m going to steal them. He doesn’t know it yet.

“Faster,” I tell him. “It needs to grow until you almost can’t take it.” We’re both staring at the darkened living room. All the lights are off and the glow from the city outside illuminates a slender Ficus tree, a television on a media console, and a cello perched in the corner.

The cello.

“I hear the cello,” I say. “Do you?”

I wait as he imagines. “Yeah.Yeah. I hear it too.”

His fingers drift against my jaw, then slip down my chest. He’s always been physical with me, but now it’s different. I can feel him checking on me. Like he’s making sure I’m okay after he railed me twice.

It’d be easy to just tell him, “Dude, I’m fine,” and push him off. Because I am fine, but I’m really enjoying the extra attention. I’ve never really experienced this post-hookup. Mostly I have myself to blame there, considering I never wanted anyone to believe I needed it. I never gave anyone the chance.

Phoenix plays another beat on my thigh with his palm.

“Yeah,faster,” I say, our heads bobbing to the sound. I hum a little, then tell him, “It’s an inferno.”

“Merciless?”

“No, no, it’s not cruel. It’s intense, raging heat. What you find after the thaw.” I see us together in his bed. I feel his heart beat against mine. I see us playing at the studio. I feel the sound leaving my body. “It’s just passion.”

I’ve found what comes after nuclear winter.

I’ve been discovering it with Phoenix this whole time.