The haunting of our lives

Without the early morning call, David would have slept in past noon. Out of habit, he reached for the nightstand, found his mobile phone, and hesitated for a moment when he realized it was completely silent. "Good morning to you too" Tennant heard through the haze of sleep. It was a tough wake-up; his body was stiff, and he barely managed to open his eyes. He was sleeping deeply and hasn't had a single dream. Perhaps it was even for the best: lately, his dreams had been unsettling, causing him to lose sleep or wake up with a racing heart, and Georgia had to comfort him. David frowned but then felt relief: the call wasn't for him. So he could go back to sleep, and perhaps laze in the warm bed until noon. Why not — especially while spring blossomed outside? However, once he got more comfortable and relaxed, a voice from the side distressed him. "No, you actually woke me up." Michiel said with a yawn. "I'll have breakfast at the hotel, and then I'll head to the audition. How's the baby? Give her a kiss for me and tell her that daddy misses her." David closed his eyes and pulled the blanket up to his nose. "I just woke up," Michiel sighed. "Yeah, I had a poor sleep..." David gripped the edge of the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut. An unpleasant shiver ran through his body, making him want to burrow deeper under the blanket and stay there until the air became suffocating. "Kisses, bye." Michiel muttered. David bit his cheek from the inside and heard the “Click!” of the lock screen. Then, the sound of the mobile hitting the nightstand at the other end of the bed. David didn't react, or rather, he tried not to. It seemed better to pretend to be asleep. "David," a velvety, drowsy voice sounded too close to be comfortable. "Good morning." Still trying to pretend, David half-opened his mouth. His hand relaxed its grip on the blanket and he buried his face in a pillow. However, a moment later, a cold touch ran down his shoulder, spread to his arm, his side, his thigh. He did his best to suppress a shiver, but instead he clenched even tighter into the blanket. "I know you're not asleep." Warm breath washed over his side, he felt a light kiss on his waist. Michael definitely teased him, and the stubble gave David goosebumps. "Good morning, Michael." David gave in and turned his head. "How did you figure that out?" "By your breath." Michael exhaled and caressed David's sunken stomach with his palm. "I just woke up too." David snorted but not took his eyes off the shaggy, post-sleep Sheen, who rested his cheek on David's thigh. His hand continued to wander over David's body: it started with the stomach, then moved to his ribs and settled at his waist. Michele fingers traced the reddish mark from the kiss he just left. "I noticed." David said, rolling onto his back. Michael propped himself up and then lay down on David's stomach. "Everything okay? I thought you weren't in the mood," Michael asked. "Fine," Tennant looked away. "It's just an early wake-up, and..." He didn't finish his sentence. He grabbed his hair with both hands and let out a whimper. Michael sat up, looking down at him. "And...?" "And that phone call!" David exclaimed, waving his hand. "I just feel so sick when we're together, and Anna calls you. I don't know... I feel like some kind of..." Michael rubbed his nose and slouched. This conversation had always been unpleasant, from the beginning of their "relationship" up until now. It was the same thing over and over, no matter how much they talked or discussed this delicate issue. David understood the reasons behind Michael's decision, turned a blind eye to the lies, but still felt that gnawing feeling in his gut. "I managed to break free for three days, David. Do you want to spend the remaining two days beating a dead horse?" "No." David sighed, feeling guilty for his words and emotions. Damn, he couldn't control this! "Shall we put aside the conversation for later or indefinitely?" Michael calmly suggested. David pressed his lips together, realizing that the second option was nearly impossible, and later meant until Anna's next call. The phone rang again. Michael nodded in its direction, and David grabbed his mobile, quickly sitting up, leaning against the bed's headboard, and hugged his knees. "Yeah, baby, good morning," he began, glancing at Michael. To his relief, Michael looked almost calm. "Good morning, baby. Did you just wake up?" Georgia answered on the other end of the call. "I could've slept longer, but Michael had an early morning call," David replied. "Well, that's good. Otherwise, you'd be struggling with insomnia again," Georgia chuckled. David gave a faint smile, scratching his cheek. "Is everything going well there? I decided not to disturb you last night." "Yeah, we're checked in just fine," David replied. "I'll order breakfast for now. Your usual, David?" Michael asked, giving David's leg a stroke as he got up from the bed. "Yes," he quickly answered, then realized "Sorry, Michael is already ordering breakfast. He asked me..." "I got it." Georgia said. "Enjoy your meal in advance. By the way, I already had breakfast with the kids, so you're a bit late." David chuckled softly. "Then just send them my regards," he said. "By the way, how are those little brats?" "Don't even ask. I had a hard time rounding them up in the yard," Georgia replied. David could sense her smiling through the phone, and he couldn't help but smile as well. "Alright, enjoy your little vacation. Take care, baby." "You too." "Hey, Georgia!" Michael shouted, appearing in the doorway. "Did you hear that?" David asked Georgia. "I did. Send my warmest hello, and give him a hug from me." "Sure thing, baby. See you later." David waited for a little "bip" to make sure that the call ended and placed his phone on the nightstand. He sighed loudly. "Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes." Michael said, pulling David out of his thoughts. "I hope Georgia sent her regards?" "Oh, of course she did." David replied. "She said to give you a hug." Michael smiled, watching as Tennant reluctantly got out of bed, reaching for his PJ pants and a T-shirt with a silly slogan. "But that can wait until after I shower. And I'm absolutely starving. My stomach feels like it's tying itself in knots." Running his fingers through hair, David headed into the bathroom, and Michael followed. Standing close to a small mirror, they have been passing a toothpaste tube back and forth and have felt just a little bit awkward. It had nothing to do with their morning routine or each other's presence. In the first place, they had simply lost the habit of being physically in one space over the past full-of-COVID year. Last, but not least, they used to meet quite frequently back in the days: multiple shared evenings, oodles of days or nights, and once, for a whole week, but even then they were all limited by shooting schedules and families. They never could wake up next to each other and stand like this, brushing their teeth, waiting for breakfast, and realizing it was just the beginning. There were still two whole days, dedicated exclusively to each other. And all they wanted was not to part for as long as possible, put aside the lives they had. The next opportunity was foggy, and they didn't ever want to think about it. But they hoped they wouldn't have to wait another year. David sat on the edge of the bathtub, resting one hand on his leg while viciously brushing his teeth with the other. The minty taste cooled his drowsy mind. Michael stood opposite the mirror, fully absorbed in himself. "So, did you tell Anna that you have an audition?" David hesitantly asked as he spat out the toothpaste. "Yes," Michael quickly replied. "Then it turns out you didn't pass it?" "Exactly." Michael turned on the water and rinsed, washed his toothbrush, and splashed some water on his face. David was still brushing his teeth absent-mindedly. When Michael responded with short, one-word answers, it usually meant he didn't want to talk about it. David really should have paid attention to that. Maybe he had had enough of their past conversations and fights, and he should let it go, at least for now. "You're going to scrub off the enamel if you keep at it." Michael said, turning off the tap. And he was right. David found himself lost in thought again, even though just a moment ago, he'd decided to put all those stray thoughts aside. Damn, he needed to do something about this. But for now, he just wanted to get his breakfast. "I could just as well talk to you about Georgia." Michael suddenly said, and David gave him a puzzled look. "But at least Georgia knows... About us." he said, gripping the edge of the sink more firmly. "At least, I'm not married." "You know I can't lie to her. It's pointless: she's the one who pushed me toward you. I'm an open book to her." "Now you understand how I feel when you talk about Anna?" "I do." David muttered to himself. "I'll try to keep quiet." David briskly splashed water on his face and accepted the offered towel, dried off his face, neck and the damp hair on his forehead. Michael observed him with a barely noticeable smile. He knew that David noticed it, and couldn't help but watch him. "Finally." David sighed, leaving the towel on the hook. "Now, let's satisfy one more craving." He continued, wrapping his arms around Sheen's neck; a quick chuckle vanished into their morning kiss. It was like Michael tried to seal this moment in the kiss, as if last night wasn't enough. Well, it wasn't enough. Their feelings were so intoxicated that no one noticed how quickly they'd drunk all the alcohol, and the bedroom grew too loud. A year of being apart had taken its toll, and though three days didn't seem like much, that's all they could manage for now. Life was slowly getting back to normal after the quarantine, a rhythm everyone had forgotten and needed to get used to again. At first, they were even afraid to recall how things were "before," but it was worth it. "Just don't tell me you're naked under that robe," David said, taking a quick peek down. Michael just grinned wider and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, come on, Michael!" Breakfast arrived on time, or maybe a few minutes late – nobody was really keeping track of time. What mattered was that it came, and they didn't worry much about the rest. They had no clear plans or hourly schedules. Plans were for those who weren't interested in each other, but they could engage in conversation for hours, even about the most trivial, silly topics, and then chat for hours. During the quarantine, that's what most of their conversations were about. At this moment, everything was better. Instead of a digital picture, they could touch each other, hug, nuzzle neck or shoulder, feel the warmth of a palm on a thigh. David embraced Michael from behind and covered his eyes. That cologne, the same as a year or two ago. Michael probably had others, but he remembered that Tennant liked this one the most: a light citrusy-woody perfume. "Michael," David nearly purred, pulling away from his hair, "Wanna go for a walk? It's already dark, so it's unlikely anyone will notice us." "Sure," Michael shrugged and received a gentle peck on the cheek. "There's a garden nearby." David grimaced and got up from the couch. "How about just walking down the street? I could go for a beer." They swiftly got dressed, putting on the same clothes they had worn when they arrived yesterday. David, however, wrapped himself in a scarf more tightly, anticipating the night's chill. He observed how relaxed Michael looked: an open jacket, a sweater, jeans, and sneakers. No scarf or hat for him. A few beer bottles clinked in the backpack, and David couldn't help but feel joyful. It had been a while since he felt this carefree and unburdened, as if he were nineteen again, on a college break, and his friends had invited him to have an evening beer, secretly from their parents. Opening the first bottle, they realized they had no bottle opener. Well, David didn't bring one at all, and Michael had forgotten to grab the one at the hotel. "I haven't done this in ages," David admitted, handing over the bottles. Michael grinned without malice, placed one on the bench and the second one against the sharp edge of the bench, then struck it with his palm. The cap bounced onto the ground on the first attempt, and then the foam rose right up to the bottle's neck. While Michael disposed of the cap and reached for his bottle, David had already taken a few sips, appearing unusually satisfied. Even though the night was starless and street lights cast a dim glow on the seldom-visited road, they had their hoods up and masks with them, just in case. They walked and talked, gazing at the sky and the houses around them, sharing trivial thoughts that came to mind and their opinions about them from time to time. It was unusually quiet and peaceful, as if there was a catch, like something was about to jump out and catch them off guard any moment now… "Perhaps the only catch here is that the day after tomorrow we are parting ways again." Michael said, taking a sip. "I think the same." David sighed, looking down at his feet and at Sheen's palm next to his own. It was silly to hold back the desire to reach for his hand, to interlace their fingers and walk like that: with the warmth of another's body and the coolness of an unfamiliar street. It was almost as foolish as pondering what their life would have been like if they had met earlier. It was as if they had been intentionally separated at times when they could have easily stayed together, when they were much younger and unburdened. But it wasn't right to dream about such things now. They had a fragile present that allowed them to be together for a while before returning to their families. David looked up at the houses, trying to gather his thoughts. Life is such a strange thing: in youth, it seemed easy, solvable; you thought everything was within your control, especially destiny. But in maturity, the realization dawns that you also bear responsibility for the destinies of other people, whether consciously or not. There's no escaping it because one way or another, you become a piece on the chessboard of someone else's life, and sometimes, more than just one person's. A car passed by, its headlights temporarily blinded Tennant. He blinked repeatedly and rubbed his eyes with his fingers; he hadn't noticed their light from a distance. He took a big sip and glanced at the nearly empty bottle. No worries, there were two more, if Michael didn't want his. And if not, David would savor his last one for the whole night, perhaps even into the next day. It was well past midnight, and there were no people on the street at all, which was fine. They could relax. The moment David thought about it, he felt a gentle touch on his palm. He looked down and saw Michael's fingers next to his. They lightly brushed against his fingertips but didn't fully grasp his hand, as if they were asking: May I? Do you want this as much as I do? He did. He wanted it very much, so after the next touch, he interlaced their fingers, moved closer, making it less noticeable from the side. A slight shiver ran down his spine, and he realized he was smiling. "Are you cold?" Michael asked. "Not anymore." David whispered, not turning around, but feeling a warm gaze on him. He felt warm. Maybe the beer had its effect, or maybe it was all those intertwined fingers, warming their palms. "I don't want this night to end," he said on an exhale, looking down at his feet. "Me neither," Michael replied and squeezed David's hand more firmly. David could have blamed the flush on the cold and the beer, but why would he hide his emotions? What was the point when everything was already clear, and not just to him? "Time goes by so slowly," he sang and heard a smirk. "Madonna, again?" Michael said, smiling without a hint of criticism. When David started singing her songs, it meant he was incredibly happy. Maybe even more than he thought. And Michael just couldn't help but catch his cheerful spirit. David laughed out loud, drank down his beer, and quickly found a trash bin where he tossed the bottle, without letting go of Sheen's hand. Then he sped up, swayed his hips, and sang: "Every little thing that you say or do," he raised his free hand up high, "I'm hung up, I'm hung up on you." He squinted his eyes, chuckling softly to avoid waking up the people whose windows they were passing, until they stopped at the street corner, right under the streetlight. Michael followed the movements of David's hand, nodded in time with the well-known melody, and looked only at the dancing figure in the night glow. "Waiting for your call, baby, night and day," David mimicked a phone with his fingers and shaked his palm near his ear, "I'm fed up." Michael pursed his lips, still smiling. "I'm tired of waiting on you," David continued. His gaze momentarily froze, then he threw his head back. "Time goes by so slowly for those who wait, no time to hesitate. Those who run seem to have all the fun." He sang more quietly, spaced out for a moment and missing the longing gaze on him. "I'm caught up, I don't know what to do." Tennant exhaled and spun around led by Michael' hand. Sheen spun him around, caught his swaying body, and pulled him close by the waist. A quiet chuckle was trapped under the streetlight, unable to escape further. They pressed their foreheads together. It seemed like they had spent a small eternity in that little corner of light, hidden beneath their hoods and the darkness of the night, where no one else ever existed but them.

***

The door to their room slammed shut, pushed by the force of their bodies pressing against it. David fervently and tightly clutched at Michael's clothes, yanking and tearing them clumsy. He was almost whimpering with impatience. Perhaps that's exactly what it was. Damn, he didn't want to think about it right now. Sheen's hands slipped under a sweater and touched David's stomach, causing him to shiver from the fingers, still cold from the street. Michael paused for only a moment, so David could rid him of his turtleneck, which he threw on the floor. Shortly after, a small pile of his own outerwear and the sweater appeared in the same place. One hand went under David's jeans, while the other quickly undid the button and zipper. David let out a muffled groan, as soon as the fingers found their way beneath the boxer fabric. "Damn, Michael," he almost whimpered, pleadingly. His hand froze, and David unconsciously thrusted his hips, ready to collapse from the tremors in his knees, but Michael took the lead: he pulled him into the bedroom, stood behind, and firmly pressed his fingers into David's hips, biting his neck, lightly nibbling, until David completely lost the sense of the ground beneath his feet. It felt like a form of torture: the foreplay became too long, both had been ready to move on, but they were frozen by the bed. David was the first to put an end to it. He sat down on the bed and hurriedly took off his unzipped jeans, then his boxers, which have uncomfortably stuck to his body. He retreated, not holding back his desire watching Michael take off his remaining clothing, pushing his damp curls away from his forehead, even though they traitorously fell back. "Where?" hurriedly asked Tennant, turning toward the nightstands. "In mine," Michael replied, swallowing hard, as he approached the bed. "I put them there because you fell asleep almost right away." David nodded and reached for the nightstand, fetched a tube of lubricant and a condom. He rolled onto his back, and suddenly found himself pinned beneath Michael's body. He handed over the items and raised himself onto his elbows, in an attempt to get a new kiss. "Be a good boy," Michael whispered in a low tone, "turn onto your stomach." This command smashed the last remaining barrier in Tennant's mind. He obediently complied, feeling Michael's hands on his hips. He grabbed a pillow and quickly slipped it beneath himself, realizing that he would be too wobbly at this position without support. Michael straightened one leg, letting it hang off the bed, and bent the other beneath himself. Then, he set the lube aside. In a matter of seconds, David gasped and widened his eyes, instinctively moving his hips. However, he immediately felt the grip on his hips tighten. Trapped between the mattress and Michael, David shut his eyes, clenched his fingers on the bed sheets, and found himself biting the edge of the blanket, soaking it with saliva. At some point, Michael reached for the lube again. He moved erratically and urgently, tore up the wrapping of a condom, then rolled it. And unexpectedly pulled out the pillow from beneath David's hips. As a result, David lost his fragile balance, collapsed on the bed, and wanted to say something, but almost immediately found himself pinned down by Michael's body. Then, the air was knocked out of his lungs with the first and slow thrust of Michael's hips. David took a deep breath through his mouth, adjusting and pressing his forehead against the fabric beneath him. When his breathing returned to normal, Michael pushed again, gripping David's slinky hips with his hand. He repeated the motion once again and lost control. With each thrust, the air left David's lungs with deep moans, merging with growls that escaped through clenched teeth. David became exhausted by the pace that Sheen set. Michael had always set it since he figured out long ago it was exactly what they both needed. The air was thick with their scent, making it stuffy, and David wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for the beads of sweat on his forehead. He turned his head to the side to gulp some fresh air. The thrusts created flashes in his eyes, sending shockwaves through his body, concentrating in his groin, causing his member to ache from the friction against the bed sheet underneath him. However, Michael pressed him into the mattress so firmly that there was no room for David's hand to give even a moment's relief from his agony. "Did you really have to get a haircut?" Michael whispered, wiping sweat droplets from his forehead. Suddenly, a shiver ran down David's spine. Breathing became easier. Michael swallowed hard and pulled out, lay down on his back and patted his own thigh. "Will you keep going, cowboy?" David eagerly licked his lips and rose. He couldn't take his eyes off Michael's hard-on, pressed against his stomach. With trembling hands, David approached, swung one leg over Michael's hips, and squeezed them with his knees. Slowly, he pulled himself down til a deep moan escaped his lips. David tilted his head back and bit his lip. He didn't rush to continue, not now. "About the hair..." David began. "Why?" "If you only knew how much I wanted to grab you by the hair." Michael confessed, looking up at him. "How often have you imagined it?" Sheen swallowed thickly "Almost every time we had a call." David smiled and leaned back, resting his hands on Michael's knees. "I looked at it and couldn't help but think about how I would grip it with my fingers, pull it to make you beg for a kiss." David couldn't resist and began to move. His movements were unbelievably slow and smooth. "Go on..." David demanded, digging his fingers into the skin beneath them. "Then I wouldn't let go of it when taking you from behind, would make you look at me, and I'd want to be deafened by your moans..." Michael's heart skipped a beat as he got carried away with the explicit view of his lover, which was so revealing. "I couldn't concentrate on anything else because I wanted you to be near too badly. I almost lost control a couple of times, but… Changed my mind. We're already risking too much..." David slowed down and looked at him. An abrupt stab in his chest bursts a bubble he hadn't even realized he had: he wanted the same thing, had thought of it countless times in the back of his mind. David leaned forward, placed a hand on Michael's chest, settled into a more comfortable position, and began to increase the pace, filling the room with sounds again. Michael let out a deep moan, partly opened his mouth, then clenched short hair on David's head and engaged him in a hungry kiss. With his other hand, Michael stroked David through his own release, taking David's breath away. They were no longer kissing but couldn't part their lips, gasping in the air filled with passion and alcohol between them. Michael was convinced that David climaxed first when he sensed the dampness on his stomach. Meanwhile, David believed it was Michael who reached climax first, as he threw his head back in a convulsion, holding David's short chestnut hair even tighter. Having caught his breath, David carefully rose and laid on his side, wrapping his arms and legs around Michael, resting his head on Michael's shoulder. Michael buried his nose in David's shaggy hair and let out a relieved sigh, holding David even closer. He briefly broke the connection to deal with the condom, tying it off and tossing it to the base of the bed. Then he swiftly returned, allowing David's limbs to entwine around him like vines once again. "Your beard made my back itch," David murmured, nuzzling his cheek against Michael's soft shoulder. Michael ran his fingers through David's hair, brushing the damp locks away from his forehead. "I'll shave it before the shoot." David grinned mischievously and leisurely closed his eyes.

***

"Congratulations, you've slept through lunch." Tennant heard when he struggled to open his heavy eyelids apart after a long, deep sleep. Michael stood with his arms across his chest, leaning against the wall opposite the bed. The room was dimly lit, but a few rays of daylight managed to break through the drawn curtains that Sheen just opened. "Did anyone call me?" David asked hoarsely as he reached for his phone. "No. I texted Georgia this morning to let her know not to worry," Michael replied, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. "How are you feeling?" "Alright." David said, attempting to open his eyes and get up. Well, his lower back did feel a bit stiff. "Although I think I've aged a bit..." Michael lovingly ran his hand over David's bare back and tilted his head to the side. "Ordering lunch?" David quickly nodded, resembling a child, still tender from sleep and rest. However, the nagging pain wasn't just in his lower back but also in his stomach. "Meat, chicken, fish, or something light?" Michael asked. "Wheat flakes with honey and nuts." David replied with a yawn, which made Michael smile, and he looked at him questioningly. "For lunch?" "I've just woken up," David stretched his back, "So it's still breakfast for me." Afterward, he received a light kiss on his cheek, smiled, and gazed at Michael.

***

"How did you deal with aggression?" "I played football," Michael answered, reaching for a glass of champagne on a small table near the bath. "In my younger days, it was the only thing that helped. Nowadays, I practice meditation, read books. Acting does help a lot. And you?" "I dunno. I don't suffer from it, not really." David was playing with a foamy soap heap in front of him, blowing away soapy flakes. "Do you think I'm suffering?" Michael asked calmly, pausing with the glass at his lips. "You get carried away sometimes." Tennant sighed and took a sip from the beer bottle. "Although you're still a very sweet person. It is just an aggression issue." Sheen didn't argue; he shrugged and took a sip. There was a point in what David had just said. "Then again, I am indecisive." "And you always underestimate yourself," Michael said with a smile, setting the glass aside. He reached out and lightly caressed David's fingers, which were resting on the brim of the bathtub. If David had been asked to describe what calmness meant to him, he would instantly recall these moments. Of course, he might have to make an effort to come up with another answer — one that others would want to hear. Tennant set the bottle down, his knees dipped into the water. He approached Michael, parting his knees, and laid his chin on a dry shoulder. His nose barely touched the stubbled neck, making Michael chuckle. "I am checking out in an hour." Michael whispered, then his hands embraced David' shoulders, sinking both of them into the water. "I'm leaving in the morning," David replied, covering his eyes. "I want to sleep off." Michael smiled quietly and adjusted his position to get comfortable. The bathtub wasn't large, though it was big enough to fit both of them. When they chose this hotel, they prioritized practicality over luxury. It was a neutral territory, far away from the city center and people. They had only ensured that the essentials were included in their booking, such as meals. Check-in could be done with minimal contact with the staff. For a three-day stay, it was more than enough. "Listen, what would you be doing if you weren't an actor?" David asked suddenly. "Football." "Sometimes, I think you're obsessed with it." David grinned. "But it's true," Michael let out a soft chuckle, "If I hadn't turned down an offer from Arsenal, I wouldn't have gone to drama school. Although, I continued playing football even there." "A life-changing decision." Tennant signed, silently thanking fate for it. "I've always wanted to be an actor, as far back as I can remember, probably since I was three or even earlier." "Nonetheless, fate had its way, leading us to this point," Michael noted, his fingertips gently traced the visible vertebrae, "precisely where we're meant to be." David looked at Michael, propping his hands on the bathtub's rim behind him. He wasn't entirely sure if he had gotten the last words correctly. "Meant to be"? But where was that? On the theater stage, on cinema screens? Or perhaps it referred to their geography, their real lives, free from roles and cameras? Numerous possibilities ran through his relaxed mind, but one, utterly absurd, the most distinct, stood out amidst the rest, amidst the flashes of fleeting words and thoughts. He wouldn't dare to voice what had crossed his mind. David bit his lip, feeling way too naive. His focus unwillingly fixed on Michael. And there, deep in Michael's eyes, he spotted a foolish and naive boy, who had joined him in their temporary escape. And that was the answer. David gently brushed Michael's lower lip, feeling the light but warm breath. He paused. He wasn't in a hurry. From the pounding of hearts to the tender touch of lips, there was a universe where they were... Meant to be together. Left alone in the empty room, David felt the haunting of something else: intangible, beyond the grasp of human mind and imagination. It had been lingering by his side for several years, but only now dared to get closer. It was uncertain whether they would be able to meet before autumn, but David clearly understood one thing: the haunting would not leave him for a moment.