Chapter 12

Daniel listened quietly, his head resting against Cole’s collarbone. “Piano Concerto 21?” he guessed.

“Mmhmm.” It was considerably calmer than Dance of the Hours, which had left Cole feeling too antsy. Ponchielli’s piece built up from a serene dawn to a raucous battle between day and night. Mozart’s Concerto 21 was simply sweet violins and pianos, much more what he needed for now. Furthermore, though he had enjoyed his brief solitude, the mere weight and warmth of Daniel pressed against him was therapeutic in its own way.

The sunlight caught Daniel’s eyelashes, turning the tips golden white. The last time Cole had sat under this tree, he would never had guessed he would be able to love a man so deeply, so entirely, that even things so seemingly insignificant as his eyelashes could be endearing.

Eyelashes are kinda bizarre. I get what they’re for, but do they have to grow out of the eyelid itself? Though yeah, it would be weirder if they grew where our eyebrows are.