“You’re here,” he murmurs, staring at my eyes and caressing my face and the scar with the tips of his fingers.
I lick my lips and nod. A moment ago I was pissed and ready to explode, but his reaction has left me shocked and confused. I don’t know how I should feel. My legs are like limp noodles while my heart beats wildly in my chest. I don’t even remember what happened five minutes ago.
“Hi,” he murmurs again, almost dreamily.
I return his smile and decide I will ask for an explanation later. Right now I want to enjoy this moment.
When the racket of the whistles doesn’t seem to diminish, Sean lets me go, but only to immediately take my hand and lace his fingers with mine.
“Okay, okay, okay, you can stop now! What’s wrong? You never saw a kiss before?”
I guess he feels at home in this place. I don’t know about homophobia in Ireland, but kissing a guy in a pub in some parts of the States can be dangerous. Here, from what I see, it isn’t.