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Warning: Contains Boys Love.

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His hands were calloused, though not rough. They were working hands, used often on the thick and thin strings of his acoustic guitar. Plucking and strumming, tightening and loosening. But they were never used in any manner other than gentle and thoughtful.

Of course, only his guitar knew this. For any mortal eyes that ever lay a glance on the hands of Dominic would always think otherwise.

He spent his many days and nights in the attic of the ever-popular Café Mal’Chick Lyubov. Playing his acoustic guitar (that he affectionately called Lucy), writing music, and relaxing. It was a quiet existence, filled with nothing but the peaceful sounds of silence and gentle music. Either sitting on the ledge of the only window in the cozy room, or sitting cross-legged on the dusty floor, he was always playing his guitar.

His cousin often asked him if he would ever play music for his café. But just the thought of being down there, in front of people—strangers, no less—sent an unpleasant chill across Dominic’s tanned skin. The idea was absurd. He stayed in this attic to keep away from people. He perfected his musical talent not for the enjoyment of others. He couldn’t care less about what they thought. No, he lived in this seclusion so that he may enjoy his own company, without the irritance of another presence.

His cousin often told him that he wished he’d reconsider. He gently persuaded him with delectable sweets, the finest tea from China, and other luxuries that Dominic considered rather extravagant for something like a bribe. Still, he politely declined.

And so it was. He enjoyed his quiet, solitary existence. He enjoyed his bed, covered in many homemade quilts and blankets he brought from home (that no longer existed, he often thought bitterly to himself). He delighted himself upon the one window in the attic that, when opened, privileged him with a grand view of the entire city.

Yes, he was quite content with his life.

That was, until he noticed something about the Café that co-existed with him that he hadn’t noticed before.

Looking out of the large window early one morning, watching the sunrise slowly into a sleepy azure sky, he caught sight of a young boy walking the streets. It was odd. Who walked the streets this early in the morning, when the city still slept and the early birds had yet to even rouse themselves from their nests?  

But sure enough, there was a boy walking the streets. With the most peculiar colour of hair, too. A deep shade of lilac that looked to be shoulder length, pulled back into a pair of ponytails and half covered by a light blue bandanna. The boy had a peculiar sense of fashion too. A white, lacy apron over a knee-length sea-green dress. The boy had long and shapely legs that were covered in a dark and light blue stripped tights, and his feet were in what looked to be in navy blue dress shoes.

Odd.

Upon closer inspection, he recognized the boy as one of the workers at the café. Coming to work, already dressed and rearing to go. He didn’t look that unhappy about going there to work, though. In fact, he looked rather enthused.

Very odd…

Generally the workers Dominic saw walking to and from the back of the Café looked as if they’d rather be joining the army than walk a step closer to the building. Very few were happy about it. He knew that most workers would quit if they could, but knowing his cousin, there was some sort of little trick in the contract that kept them coming back.

He shrugged his shoulders, his thoughtful mind already turning to musical ponderings as he prepared himself for his first warm-up before practice. He had already forgotten the boy who walked into the café.

Later in the evening, while Dominic was resting his tired fingers he was greeted by a visitor. He was surprised to the point of almost jumping out of his skin when the seldom-used door was opened. Generally, he hated company of any kind, but his cousin was an exception.

“Evening, Dominic.” Sir entered the room; in his hand a fancy tray of assorted sandwiches and tea. “I brought you something to eat. Thought you’d be hungry.”

Dominic mutely nodded as he acknowledged the slight rumble in his stomach. Reaching for one of the sandwiches as Sir sat them on the nightstand by his bed, he mumbled his thanks and began to eat.

“So how’s it going?”

“It’s going,” he mumbled. “I think I’m getting artist's block, though…”

Sir slowly sipped his tea, his tranquil eyes on Dominic as he calmly ate. “Oh?”

Dominic nodded. “I’m stuck on this one song…the seventh on my track.” He took a bite of the sandwich in his hands. “I can’t get the lyrics right. I’ve tried and tried for a week now.” He took a sip of the tea Sir brought. He inwardly grimaced—too sweet for his taste. “The composition is perfect, but the lyrics don’t do it justice at all.”

“What’s the song about?”

Dominic paused before he answered. “…It’s a love song.”

Sir nearly choked on his tea. “You? Dominic? You’re writing a love song.” He glanced briefly at Dominic’s tea. “…I wonder what exactly is in this tea...''

He ignored his cousin’s silly dramatics and continued. “In either case, it’s not going well.”

“Well, what exactly about it has you so stumped?”

“That’s just it.” Dominic lowered his teacup back to the tray, becoming lost in thought. “I don’t know what. It’s missing something, but I haven’t a clue what it is and it’s driving me mad.”

Sir snorted. “You’ve been in this room for nearly three months all to yourself. Except for when I visit you, of course. Anyone would go mad after a while.”

Dominic shrugged off the comment. He didn’t care what Sir thought of him staying to himself. What should it matter? He wasn’t hurting anyone and he was much happier this way.

“Maybe you should seek some outsider help.”

“No.”

“Oh, come on Dommie.” Dominic inwardly groaned at the mention of his childhood nickname. Sir didn’t look so put off though. “It couldn’t hurt,” he persisted.

“Oh yes it could.” Dominic crossed his arms and turned his frowning face to the wall. “It’s my music, my song, and I don’t want some random stranger tampering with that.”

“Well, maybe a random stranger is exactly what you need to get your muse going,” Sir mused thoughtfully. “I know you don’t trust people—”

“That’s an understatement, if I’ve ever heard one.”

“—But maybe if you just talked to some new people, or even just a person, you could come up with some new ideas. They might even have some good ideas of their own.” Sir smiled, the late evening sun shining on his glasses as his head turned to look at him. “Da Vinci didn’t paint his portraits alone. He had people be his models.”

Dominic continued to stare at the wall, his jaw clenched and his mouth a tight, thin line.

“At least consider it…”

“No.”

Sir inwardly sighed at the other’s stubbornness. “Is it really that bad an idea to ask for help? What do you have to lose?”

The question didn’t need to be answered. The quiet answered it for them both.

Sir turned his head and looked out the open window behind him, watching the far off reddish orange sun slowly setting beneath the horizontally inclined buildings of their fair, old city. He breathed deeply as he vaguely remembered when he had first arrived here, completely in love with this place. An old city filled with such polite and easy-going people who covered whatever sins they kept so close to their hearts through smiling masks. The buildings almost reminded him of home, in Italy. Old but perfectly preserved. There was none of those foolish, neon bright light signs everywhere, or giant skyscrapers made of glass here. Sure, some areas were a little modernized—but it still retained its sophisticated look, of an age long lost and almost forgotten.

He had hoped that when he asked Dominic to come here and live with him, that he would grow to love the city as much as him, as their home. But in three months, nothing had changed.

“Is it really so bad, Dominic…?”

Dominic thought that he heard something off about his cousin’s tone. “What do you mean?”

Sir shook his head, wiping at his eyes quickly that hid behind his glasses. He became cast in shadow as dusk finally arrived. The fine outlines of his kind mouth and sharp nose and eyes were almost impossible to see in this light.

“How would you feel if I asked one of my employee’s to come up here and help you?” Sir requested in his paternal and optimistic tone, no matter how heavy and unsuitable it sounded for the moment.

Dominic snorted. He sat his teacup back onto the tray, wishing that his cousin would just take his things and leave him in peace. Why did he always have to bring these sorts of things up?

“At least think about it…give it a chance.”

Dominic reached for Lucy on his bed instead of answering, setting itself up properly in his arms before he began to calmly strum the strings with his calloused thumb. He heard Sir sigh with exasperation.

“I’ll send someone in tomorrow afternoon. And if it doesn’t work, then I’ll stop pestering you.”

Dominic paused with his playing for a moment. But just a moment, as he absorbed in the last sentence for what it was and went back to playing. He watched Sir out of the corner of his eye slyly, watched as he packed everything up and left Dominic’s private sanctuary in a much more solemn mood than he had coming in.

He played until heaven opened it’s millions of tiny white eyes and the night’s large and silver pearl moon rose in the sky, before he laid back on his bed and drifted off into a light sleep.


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Clean china?

He took a quick look around the kitchen and grinned with satisfaction.

Check.

Clean kitchen? Another quick glance around his workstation.

Double check!

He rubbed his eager hands together. Everything was ready and set. He couldn’t have been more prepared for another day of work than he was that day. He began to boil the water for the tea and check the pastries in the oven. The Café would not open for another few minutes, but Lorelei liked to get ahead and have things ready for the early-bird customers, who often came not even a minute after the Café opened. The baked goods themselves smelt heavenly, fresh and sweet, though not in anyway overpowering. He imagined the smiles on the customers faces when they ate his hand-made delicacies and felt a humble uplifting in his chest.

A light ding brought him out of his thoughts. Oh how he loved that tiny little ding. The cute little bell on the counter was just another pro of his day. Lorelei looked over his shoulder, all smiles as he expected to see one of the workers, until he saw the quite serious look on Sir’s face. His own face became grim, anticipating what ever it was Sir had come to say.

“Sir?”

Sir adjusted his glasses and briefly cleared his throat.

“Lorelei…do you like music?”


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He awoke to a soft, cool caress on his cheek. Feather-light, almost non-existent. Dominic peeked an eye open, his chest suddenly filled with something that he vaguely remembered—

Until he remembered that he had left the window open last night, and that he was alone.

That odd feeling in his chest was immediately gone, leaving no trace of its existence. However, he still felt the peculiar tightness in his heart. The previous feeling was gone, but lingering—just like the wind.

He noticed a tray of food on his nightstand, no doubt left by his cousin just like every morning. Waffles (that were probably on the cool side by now) soaked in maple syrup, a tall glass of milk, a few strips of crispy bacon, and a few small oranges.

It still amazed Dominic that Sir even bothered anymore. He munched on a few of the thin strips of bacon and managed to nibble through at least half of a waffle, half-grimacing at the abrupt and unpleasant intensity of the sweetness of the sugar. He downed the glass of milk and brushed away any drips that clung to the corners of his lips with the back of his hand. All the while watching the activity outside of his attic, through the open window. Not a car in sight. But a few people came and went by as they pleased. Some with shopping bags or with other people. Some alone, walking their dogs or just enjoying the morning sunshine.

He vaguely wondered if they knew how dangerous it was to be out there?

Instead of reaching for Lucy like he did every other morning, he lay back on his bed and stared up at the dusty ceiling. The critical comments Sir often made about how unclean and dusty this room was echoed in the back of his head. He remembered the look of faint disgust and concern that had flitted across Sir’s face when he had told him that this room was perfect, dust and all. Although Sir often asked why, Dominic couldn’t voice the answer.

It’s just perfect for me. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms behind his head. No one else would be able to fully appreciate a neglected place like this.

His eyes snapped open when there came a loud knocking at his door. He ignored it at first, thinking nothing of it. Moments later, more boisterous knocking came. He bolted up in his bed, blinking wildly at the sleep that tugged at his eyes.

He glared at the door, hoping that who ever knocked on his door so obnoxiously would get the message and just leave.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t about to happen.

There came a few muffled voices from outside of the door—one was Sir’s, most definitely. The other voice Dominic didn’t recognize. It was foreign, it was strange, and he hated it. He scowled when he remembered last night’s conversation. So the bastard really meant it this time?

“Bugger…” he mumbled under his breath. He shook his shaggy, navy blue dyed hair out of his sea-green eyes. Just what he wanted, an unwelcomed stranger, especially this early in the morning.

“What a stubborn door…!” Came a faint mumbling.

“Here, let me…you just have to put more force into it.” The brass knob jiggled violently before it shot open. Dominic tapped his foot on the wood floor; an eyebrow arched at the curiosity that stood beside Sir, who stared at him back with equal peculiarity.

“Morning, Dommie!” Sir walked into the room, arms opened wide as if he were about to hug someone. “Lovely day, no?”

“It was,” Dominic grumbled, still eyeing the stranger who stood at the door. Yeah, you’d better stay there, outsider.

“Oh don’t be so negative. Mind over matter, you know.” He quickly critiqued before turning to the male who stood idly at the door. “Dominic, this is Lorelei. He’s the chef down stairs in the Café—and a marvelous one at that.” He turned to Lorelei and gestured for him to come into the room. Dominic stared intently at the unwelcome stranger and was displeased when he came into the room. An invader. He realized that he was the same worker he had seen yesterday morning. “Lorelei, this is Dominic.”

Lorelei gave Dominic a small wave, though it was hesitant under Dominic’s intense stare. “Hello…”

Instead of returning the greeting, Dominic turned to Sir and hissed to him, “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Just helping a family member out.”

“I don’t need—”

“Yes. You do.” Sir returned the unappreciative stare, unwilling to back down. A slow smile curled his frowning mouth upwards. “Now then, I’ll just leave you two to get acquainted. I’ll be back at exactly twelve sharp with some dinner for you.” Dominic glared at Sir’s back as he made his way back to the door, stopping only for a moment to whisper something to the stranger before leaving him alone. The door closed, a little too loud for a place as quiet and peaceful as the attic.

Dominic glanced at the clock that hung beside the door. It was only nine O’clock and already his day had gone to shit.

His intense stare broke off from the clock and fixed itself stubbornly onto the male who stood awkwardly by himself, looking unsure whether he should start a conversation or break off into a run.

“So…how’re you?” Lorelei asked, looking everywhere but at Dominic himself.

Dominic snorted but didn’t bother to answer.

Lorelei took a step foreword, a little braver than a few moments ago, mistaking Dominic’s silence for shyness instead of hostility. “Isn’t it a little dusty up here?”

“No.”

Lorelei grimaced slightly at how unclean the room was. It definitely needed a good dusting. The room would’ve looked unused if it weren’t for the cozy looking bed, nightstand, and dresser that he assumed were all Dominic’s. Not to mention the rather nice looking acoustic guitar that lay in its case beside the bed.

He knelt down and inspected the acoustic guitar. Shiny and clean. It was a nice shade of mahogany, the strings a deep coal black. There was a strap attached to it. Black, white, and grey plaid. It was odd for such a deep coloured guitar like this, but it seemed fitting. There was writing all over the guitar, in permanent black ink. Quotes that Lorelei didn’t recognize. A rather withered looking black rose surrounded by vines covered in thorns. A name was written along the base in cursive, right along the picture of the rose: “Lucy”.

“What a nice guitar…” he breathed aloud.

Dominic frowned. “You can’t touch it.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Lorelei pouted. Dominic’s bad mood was starting to rub off on him. “Geez, snappish much?”

“No.” Dominic reached down and snatched the guitar away from Lorelei, as if he were a leper.

Lorelei inwardly sighed. Sir’s previous warnings from just minutes ago, before he had been brought here, suddenly echoed in his head. Dominic certainly was as stubborn and standoffish as Sir had warned him to be. Cold and calculating, not very friendly to anyone. He vaguely wondered why Sir wanted him to help him with his artist’s block. It looked as if Dominic wouldn’t even let him speak a word without some form of retaliation.

But he had to make the best of this. Sir had asked him to do this and by God, Lorelei owed him much more than could be said.

“So, I was told you’re having a bit of an artists block?”

Dominic glared at him suspiciously. “What’s it to you?”

Lorelei carefully seated himself on the floor, bringing his knees to his chest and hugging them with his arms. “Well, I was told that you’re stuck on a love song. Sir figured that I could help out.”

“What makes you such an expert? I bet any schmuck he could find off the street would tell me the same thing you could tell me,” Dominic bitterly snapped. “‘Love is perfect, love is fair, love is completion’.” He leaned back, staring down at Lorelei. “Or maybe you’d say something like ‘love is seeing how many times you can get in your partners pants before the relationship is over, and then whining about how they left you for being so damn ungrateful’.” His frown held a cockiness that bothered Lorelei. “Is that it?”

Lorelei’s eyebrows knitted together in frustration. How could someone be so indignant and pretentious? “Don’t put words in my mouth. You don’t even know me. Who said that was my opinion on love?”

“Please. That’s everyone’s opinion,” Dominic said with a skeptical snort. “You can’t tell me otherwise, because the outside world confirms it.”

Lorelei pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that this guy stayed cooped up by himself in here. No, no negative thoughts. If he willingly isolated himself from the outside world, there had to be a reason for it, right? Maybe an explanation for his obvious distrust and bitterness?

Think positive.

Think!

Positive!

“Is it alright if I see the lyrics you were working on?” He cautiously held his hand out, waiting patiently to see if his request would get shot down.

Instead, Dominic arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I just want to see what you have so far,” he gently explained, as calmly and persuasively as possible. He quickly added, “if, of course, that’s all right with you.”

Dominic said nothing. Lorelei quickly licked his dry lips, a little nervous under Dominic’s inquisitive stare. “I’m not going to destroy them or anything. I honestly just want to see it.” He cocked an eyebrow back at Dominic, “unless you’re scared to let an outsider see them.”

The last sentence seemed to send an electric shock to Dominic, because he snapped back to life and looked through a small stack of papers by the guitar case.

“I really don’t care what you think.” He quickly explained, Lorelei wordlessly believing him. Dominic didn’t strike him as someone who really gave a damn about a stranger’s opinion. He watched as Dominic pulled out a sheet and handed it to Lorelei wordlessly. His eyes scanned the words on the lined paper, reading them lightening fast. They weren’t bad. But just as Sir had told him, they seemed to be missing something. Not necessarily the right word, or the right sound.

It was something else…

...A feeling?

He handed the lyrics back to Dominic. “Not bad.”

Dominic didn’t look all that content. He actually looked kind of bored with that reaction. “I know it’s not bad.” He answered, a little irritated. “I didn’t need you to tell me that.”

“I think I know what’s missing.”

Dominic abruptly shut up. The annoyed look on his face was replaced with interest.

“Oh?”

Lorelei nodded. He rested his head on his knees. “It’s missing feeling.”

The annoyed look returned. “Oh…”

“It sounds like a love song. It looks like a love song. But it doesn’t have that feeling.” Lorelei sat up properly, stretching out his stiff legs on the floor. He was quiet a moment. Then a thought occurred to him. “Dominic…have you ever been in love before?”

His eye caught the slight movement as Dominic fisted some of the quilt of his bed in his hands. “No.”

Lorelei smiled knowingly. “Maybe that’s why your song lacks the feeling. People can imitate what they think is the feeling. And I know, it sells. We all know what we think love is and feels like.” He smiled gently. “But until a person actually experience’s any sort of love for themselves, it can lack that certain… je ne ce quois.”

Dominic slowly absorbed it in. His expression remained the same though.

“Are you ok?” He studied Dominic’s face. “…You don’t look okay.”

“I’m peachy fine.”

Lorelei glued his eyes to the floor. He wasn’t one to easily figure out the emotions of others, but this one was almost painfully obvious.

“Maybe I should go…?” He carefully suggested. A part of him wished he could leave, but something else was asking him to stay. When he thought about how long this guy had been up here, all by himself, he felt a sympathetic sadness. He knew he’d feel guilty if he left him.

Instead of the hoped answer, he got: “You do that.”

Resisting the urge to try and convince the other male otherwise, Lorelei slowly rose to his feet and wiped at the dust that clung to his uniform. He stopped at the door, right before his hand touched the brass doorknob. He looked back at the man on the bed, who hadn’t moved at all in the past few minutes. Without understanding why, he said, “I could always come back tomorrow, if you want…?”

“I don’t care. Do what you want.”

Lorelei bit his lower lip and hoped Dominic didn’t see the pained look on his face. He closed the door behind him and made his way down the staircase, back down to the bright and welcoming Café, where he knew he was wanted and needed.

Back upstairs in the attic, Dominic carelessly dropped Lucy back into its case and went back to lying down on his bed. Something else tugged at his eyes now. Not sleep, but something a little alien to him. He sniffed and buried his face into his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut against what just yesterday he could’ve considered withered and forgotten memories.

Minutes later, he turned his head and glared at the wall.

“Fuck.”


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“You have to be careful around Dominic. He’s standoffish, but he’s also sensitive.”

His half-sleeping form tossed and turned restlessly in his bed, a permanent frown tugging at his normally smiling lips.

“When his parents—my aunt and uncle—died in a house fire, my step-father took him in. They were close before the incident and his parents had trusted him so no one thought anything of it. Ever since then, he’s kept to himself. It only got worse during high school. He’d get in fights with everyone. It got to the point that he dropped out before the school board could decide to expel him. No matter what I said to him, he never listened to me. I think the only person who could’ve gotten through to him would’ve been my father.”

He rolled over to the left, hands gripping the covers till the knuckles of his hands turned almost white and stood out against his skin from the exertion. Not content with his position, he rolled over to the right, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Now I have to tell you…my step-father was always more of a Dad to me than my biological one ever was. But he was odd. He led a double-life—no, not like that. He never once cheated on my mother. No, he was what we call ‘a transgendered person’. He would dress up in woman’s clothes and people would mistake him for a woman all the time. My mother knew and she didn’t mind—as long as he was happy and stayed faithful. But…not everyone is as open-minded and loving as my mother.”

His restless form rolled over to the right again, now near the edge of the bed.

“It was only a few years ago.  Some co-workers found out about my father’s alternative life style…they…” There was a painful pause. “Anyways, when they called us in to identify the body, I remember Dominic freaking out. It was beyond just sobbing and crying. It was near hysteria. I had to take him out the room, in tears myself. But for a good few hours he sat on the floor, hugging his legs and bawling his eyes out. It was the only time Dominic has ever cried in his life. He’s a strong guy—but I guess that was the breaking point for him.”

He unconsciously bit his lower lip, his entire mind wrapped up within the strange confines of the story he had gotten on his way to meet Dominic previously that morning.

“After that day, he just went cold. He was always a little odd and a tad anti-social before, but it all went to hell after that. At the time, I was just out of high school and he was in his last year. But with my father gone, the only person he ever confided in, he just threw his academic life away. He holed himself up in his room and did nothing but play the guitar my father had given to him. Heh—I remembered Dominic used to hate the guitar. When his parents had forced him to play it, it was awful. But when he had gotten a guitar as a gift from my step-father, with the choice to play or not, he had gratefully accepted it and excelled at it wonderfully.”

The wind tussled the light blue curtains of Lorelei’s windows, briefly flashing the deep, runny shade of red that filled the early morning sky.

“When I told Dominic that I wanted to start a Café here in memory of my father, Dominic didn’t even hesitate to say that he was willing to help. All of the funds his parents had left him in their will for his education he gave towards this Café. In fact, it paid for it all. The materials for the uniforms. The dishes, food. The fancy menu’s. The building itself. I didn’t want to use all of that money for this, but Dominic is a very stubborn man once his mind is stuck on something. My name may be on the deed for this place, but it is Dominic who truly owns it. So how could I turn down the request to live in the attic above the Café…? I get so worried about him though…no one should isolate themselves like that. But he doesn’t listen to me. He never does. Lorelei—I want you to help him with his artists block…but even more important than that, I just want you to help him.”

He rolled over to the right again, this time falling flat on the carpeted floor with a loud thud. He groaned inwardly and slowly sat up, now wide-awake. He looked up at his horrendously messy bed and scratched his head thoughtfully. The last of Sir’s words from yesterday morning were repeating over and over in his head, a desperate plea from a desperate man:

“I just want you to help him.”


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Dominic had been up since five in the morning (not that he slept much at all last night), gently strumming Lucy’s strings, filling the air with a complex but gentle tune. He felt bothered by the events of yesterday, not sure what to make of them. He felt an odd sort of anxiety when he remembered that the lilac-haired boy said he might come back. He didn’t much like the idea at all, but at the same time, he felt sort’ve grateful that he finally knew what his song was missing. Sort of.

It was almost ten now and Sir hadn’t come up with food yet. It was odd. Sir was a very precise man—on the clock about everything. He was never late or even early with anything. Maybe something had come up?

He paused his playing when he heard the faint tapping of feet walking up the wooden stairs. His fingers went back to playing; figuring that it was just Sir. He didn’t even bother to look up when the door opened. He closed his eyes, listening closely to each note that he plucked out of Lucy. He sang the lyrics in his head in time with the music, ignoring the nagging feeling that the boy from yesterday had been right.

“Hello there!”

His playing ended with a sharp note that twanged unpleasantly. Dominic snapped his head up and stared at Lorelei, who was already standing close to him, holding his usual morning tray with his breakfast on it.

“I brought you breakfast,” he sweetly chirped, innocently holding out the tray to Dominic. That smile on his face…who did he think he was, just barging in here? He didn’t even knock. Such rudeness! When Dominic didn’t answer, Lorelei sat the tray on the nightstand and wiped his hands off on his apron.

“So, how’s the song—”

“What are you doing here?”

Lorelei’s eyes widened at the interruption. But that sweet smile was still there, almost mocking Dominic with its sweet sincerity. It was sickening. “Just thought I’d stop by and say hello, silly. Why, did I do something wrong?”

“Actua—”

“My what a lovely day!” Lorelei interrupted Dominic, already completely adapted and playing by the stubborn boys unspoken rules. He went to the windowsill and leaned against it, eyes gazing off into the endless azure heavens above. “The sky is so clear. Not a cloud in sight. I bet it’ll be a clear night, too.” He turned back to Dominic, the sunlight almost giving a halo effect around Lorelei’s body. It brought out a pretty, lighter shade of his lilac-dyed hair. The very same light added an enchanting glimmer to his eyes, which for the first time Dominic noticed were a peculiar shade of grey. “Do you think there’ll be a shooting star tonight?”

Dominic snorted. “What a dumb question.” He mumbled to himself, sure that Lorelei could hear him clearly. But as if he were deaf, Lorelei went on about how nice a day it was out there. He briefly mentioned his weekend plans—something about shopping outside of the city. Dominic stopped paying attention, quiet and slowly seething with irritation at the other’s random joyfulness.

“Do you wanna come with?”

“Huh?”

Lorelei smirked, crossing his arms as he leant up against the windowsill. “Do you wanna come shopping with me? You know—get out, walk around, see stuff. We could—”

“No.” God, was this guy oblivious to how much he didn’t like him?

“You sure? You really want to stay cooped up in here, like a bird in a cage?”

“I do what I want, and I don’t want to go shopping with you.”

Lorelei shrugged. “Suit yourself then. But,” he winked, “offer’s still open if you change your mind.”

Dominic ignored the wink, pretending briskly that it had never existed. What a strange boy. It seemed as if his peculiar looks really did give away his personality. How boring, he mused, to be so easily read.

“Anyways, it’s getting late. I should be getting back to work now.” Lorelei stood up properly and stretched his arms. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Dominic snapped, near outrage.

Lorelei lightly laughed, seemingly amused at Dominic’s abruptness of shock. “Yeah, tomorrow.” His smile took a coy edge. “Why? Not going to be here?”

Dominic glared, his blood boiling to dangerous degrees of heat. Smart-ass...

Lorelei gracefully bounced over to the door, chanting out sweetly, “Later, Dommie!” as he nearly danced out of the attic, leaving Dominic to wonder what part of that exit he should get angry about first.

He hoped that the café worker was just joking. Just provoking him for the fun of it.

But when Lorelei dropped by, sometime late evening the next day. And the next day, sometime in the early morning. And the next day, and the next, and the next. Dominic began to suspect that this wasn’t some twisted joke…

At first it was just simple things. Lorelei stopping by, sometimes with food, sometimes without. He always came with that huge grin on his face and that weird, delighted twinkle in his eyes. He always rambled on about the weirdest things to. Things Dominic knew nothing about and didn’t give a rat’s ass over. Café gossip about the other workers, like the other two workers who were dating each other (very scandalous and cute, according to Lorelei), or this other “manly and pissy” co-worker who had a girlfriend whom which he went to extreme means of keeping from finding out about the Café.

Pointless chatter. Just background noise that Dominic tried to drown out with Lucy.

Sometimes though, Lorelei would say something of interest that would make Dominic lower the volume of his playing to hear. Rarely, it’d even make him cease his playing altogether. Though those moments didn’t come by much, they still came. Like the day Lorelei had come in a strange, calm mood. A huge contrast to his usual bubbly, energetic self. He hadn’t said much that day but what he did say held some, if any, interest to Dominic.

“Do you think everyone see’s the same sun when they look up at the sky…?” Lorelei had gently pondered in almost a calm whisper. “Or do they all see something different?”

Dominic of course hadn’t answered, though he was sure he could figure out the answer if he really wanted to.

Of course, the day after that Lorelei went right back to his usual self, going off about some of the things he baked downstairs. He had even offered to bring Dominic some if he wanted. Dominic had declined, not bothering to explain to Lorelei his distaste for sweet things.

Of course, Lorelei brought him a huge plate of assorted cakes…

“C’mon, just a bite! It’s only sugar, it won’t kill you.” Lorelei had pouted right up close to Dominic, his eyebrows knit together in determination. His fingers held a small piece of chocolate cake with purple frosting between his pinched fingers.

“On the contrary—” Dominic was cut off when Lorelei shoved the cake inside Dominic’s mouth without warning the moment an opportunity peeked around the corner. He coughed and hacked at the sudden fullness in his mouth, but Lorelei used his hands to cover Dominic’s mouth, preventing him from spitting it out in harsh rejection. Dominic was forced to swallow the food against his will. But when Lorelei’s removed his hands from Dominic’s mouth, he didn’t yell at him. Instead, he paused. It had tasted rather good…it was sweet, naturally. But it wasn’t an intense, burning sort of sweet. Instead, it was light—just the right amount for one to enjoy the sweetness without recoiling from it being overwhelming.

“Do you like it?”

Dominic frowned. No one was going to pry that answer out of him. “Don’t do that again.”

Lorelei gestured to the plate on the nightstand. “Do you want some more?”

“No.” Dominic adjusted the strings of his guitar, keeping his eyes as far away from the other boy was possible.

“Well I’ll just leave it there in case you change your mind.”

“That’s likely…” He muttered in response.

Later that day, long after Lorelei had left to go back to work downstairs, Dominic remembered glancing over his shoulder to the plate of baked goods on his nightstand. The odd assortment of cakes with abnormal coloured frosting and décor was strangely pleasing to look. Pride and stubbornness wouldn’t let him taste of another, though.

More days passed like this. Lorelei kept bringing him new sweets. Old classics. New favorites. Things he came up with himself that Dominic was fairly sure should be tested on some other human being first before they were brought up to him. Lorelei made him take a small bite of each, for opinions and such. Dominic gave in after a week of this, tired of the tedious arguments and struggles to keep the sweets away from him. He eventually even began to eat them without being asked. He never offered his opinion though. He wouldn’t admit it, not even to himself, but he was beginning to likes the sweets. No matter how bright and exuberant they looked from the norm.

A little more time passed. Lorelei’s visits became a regular thing—though it was never scheduled when he came. He visited Dominic whenever he chose to have his break, which could range anywhere from the early hours of the morning to the late hours of night. One thing was for certain though: Lorelei was never boring.

He’d seem to be almost a different person everyday. One day he’d talk about things he read in the newspaper. The next he’d go on about gossip he picked up from other workers. He’d talk about the government one moment, and suddenly switch subjects to a cute new uniform that Sir had gotten for the Café. Lorelei was, quite literally, all over the place.

Dominic slowly discovered that he didn’t mind the visits as much as he had thought. He had been so used to just his own company that the thought of talking to anyone besides Sir had been a grossly absurd thought—complete taboo. When he had tried to force Lorelei out with a hostile coldness it had only fueled the inner determination Lorelei possessed to get in. He had broken down many of the outer walls, through chilly moods and seething hot glares, and yet he had still kept on, as determined as he had been on day one.

Odd.

But just because he had beat down the initial obstacles, didn’t mean that he would make it all the way through.

Intimacy was not a word in Dominic’s vocabulary.


+~+~+~+~+~+~+~


“So the guy complains me that his dress is really itchy all over and that working here is a real ‘pain in the ass’. The nerve of him, whining about it. What sort of person signs up for this when they know what they're getting into?”

“I don't know.” Dominic’s fingered danced along the strings of his guitar, eager to play but for the moment polite enough to wait for Lorelei to finish his story.

“Anyway, I told him to complain to the manager, not me.” Lorelei huffed, taking a large bite out of a large piece of vanilla cake with strawberry pink icing. “Christian can be such a douchebag, you know?”

“No.”

Lorelei hummed, a slight frown on his face. Dominic stared at the frown, wondering what it was exactly that bothered him so much about this worker complaining about working here. From what he had heard in the past from Sir, it was nothing new.

“People can be so ungrateful,” Lorelei muttered, almost inaudible. “I can’t believe I used to like him…” Dominic caught that quiet statement, and with a sudden peak of interest at the tone in which Lorelei had spoken in, he asked what he meant by that.

Instead Lorelei just shook his head, a smile swiftly replacing the frown. “How’s your song coming?”

“No, don’t change the subject. What did you mean?”

“What does it matter what I meant?”

This wasn't in the least bit amusing. “The way you said it was off. It’s bugging me—just tell me what you meant.” He had a nagging curiosity that kept his interest in this. There was a peculiar feeling deep down, near his stomach. Something didn’t like the way Lorelei had said that.

Or maybe, a tiny and nearly non-existent part of him mused; he didn’t like what he had said.

“It doesn’t matter.” Lorelei blushed, his cupids bow shaped lips nervously being bitten.

“It does so matter. Just spit it out.”

“No.” Lorelei got up from the floor, frowning indignantly. Dominic abruptly shot his arm out, grabbing Lorelei’s wrist before the other could hurriedly rush out of the room. His hand burned where it gripped Lorelei’s skin—his own skin was cold, like ice. Dominic wanted to let go, not sure of this burning was supposed to hurt or not, but stubbornly he kept his hand gripping the bony and somewhat delicate wrist.

It had been so long since he had willingly touched another human being…

“What do you think you’re doing? Let me go!”

“Not until you tell me what you meant.”

Those fog grey eyes Dominic found so abnormal seemed now like storm clouds. “Why can’t you just drop it and let me go?”

Dominic almost shuddered at the intensity of the fury in Lorelei’s eyes. “Just tell me—”

“It doesn’t matter anymore! I don’t even like him anymore! I like someone—” Lorelei stopped abruptly, almost catching himself from verbally tripping. He turned his head away, cheeks redder than tomatoes. Dominic was speechless, not sure what to make of the last sentence. Lorelei took advantage of this moment of weakness and snapped his wrist out of Dominic’s grip, bolting out the door and down the stairs.

Dominic hadn’t moved, his hand was still out in the open, as if still holding Lorelei to him. The palm of his calloused hand still tingled with the heat from Lorelei’s body. But the cold was quickly replacing that heat and before he knew it, it was all he felt.

Dominic never realized just how quiet the room was. And that realization really came to hit home as the days went by.

Lorelei did not return.

For days.

And days.

And days.

He was by himself for a two weeks now, with nothing but his own company to keep.

One would think he’d be happy to be alone again.

But he wasn’t.

He was far from. He struggled night after night to remember the exact shade of Lorelei’s eyes. He wished he could remember how he smelt every day, lightly of tea and sugar. His hand wanted to feel that warmth again, that silky skin, pulled taut over suggested muscles. That natural and healthy body heat that had awakened the human need in him for physical contact—something that he had neglected for a long, long time.

But Lorelei didn’t come back...so those inner desires were never satisfied.

In his time alone, he went back to work on his seventh song. Touching up the lyrics, taking and adding to the composition.

When it was finished and he had practiced it a few times, he realized, much to his cold hearts dismay that the song had gained it’s necessary feeling.

The feeling nearly killed him. Although too stubborn to admit it aloud, he knew that deep down inside Lorelei had broken down the inner walls and that he had left his painful mark.

When Dominic realized that he might never see the lilac-haired boy again, he thought he heard his icy glass heart shatter inside.


+~+~+~+~+~+~+~


“It’s finished?” Sir asked in awe.

Dominic nodded, looking anything but delighted.

“…You don’t look so happy?”

Dominic nodded again.

Sir frowned and sat his teacup back down on it's tiny plate. “What’s wrong Dominic…? I know you’re not the most energized person in the world, but you look almost dead right now. Is something bothering you?”

Dominic shook his head.

“…You know who else looks pretty lifeless right now?”

Dominic’s lowered head snapped up, his exhausted eyes filled with hope. “Who?”

“Oh, just a boy downstairs who used to dance and sing all over the place…won’t even so much as smile at anyone unless they talk to him, now. And even then, it’s a forced, unhappy smile,” Sir commented as neutrally and indifferent as possible. Just as he had thought, there lay a concern in Dominic’s eyes that Sir hadn’t seen in a long time. “You know, Dominic…he works until late tonight, and unfortunately the solo artist we hired to play tonight for our late night guests called and said that he was unable to make it—”

Dominic sighed. “This again?”

Sir smiled patiently, looking as harmless as could be. “Mmmhmm. But hey, you never know who you might see while playing.”

Dominic looked over at Lucy, down in her case and untouched for the last few days. He lowered his head again and sighed, knowing that this could either make or break him.

But it was a risk he had to take.

“I’ll do it…”


+~+~+~+~+~+~+~


“You’ve been down for a week, man. What’s up with you?” Christobella cocked an eyebrow at the down and out of it chef, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for his late-night customer’s orders.

Lorelei dragged himself all over the kitchen, preparing the order. “Just the remembrance of why I shouldn’t get involved with gorgeous men with haunting hazel eyes…”

“That’s the most Emo thing I’ve heard today,” Christobella said with a sneer. “As disgusting as it is to say this, I kind of miss the cheery Lorelei. At least he could joke around.” He took the order from Lorelei, already making his way back to his customers with a false smile for the eager girls. “You’re just a bump on a log.”

Lorelei sighed, crossing his arms and resting his head on them. Normally he loved late nights like this. But two weeks. Two weeks! He had yet to get over Dominic…the guy had done nothing but say negative things, or not even say anything at all, but he had somehow left such a strong impression on him. Lorelei wasn’t much for getting close to too many people (bring the social butterfly that he was), but there was something about that man that had intrigued him. He had noticed so many small things that he was fairly certain Dominic wasn’t even aware existed. Like the way he smiled the tiniest little smile every time he took a bite of one of Lorelei’s baked goods, or when he was playing his guitar. Or how whenever Lorelei had to leave him and return to work, there was the faintest look of sadness, as if he secretly didn’t want Lorelei to go, no matter how much Dominic always said and acted otherwise.

Or how lately, until Lorelei stopped the visits, Dominic’s eyes would lighten up when he came into the room.

He felt a painful twinge in his chest, as if his heart couldn’t beat at the memories of Dominic.

“Ladies and…well, ladies! Welcome to Café Mal’Chick Lyubov! I am Sir, your humble Café owner and tonight we have for you a special artist playing tonight for the first time in public!”

Lorelei’s head shot up, his pulse racing and his stomach tightening and bouncing around inside nervously.  He wanted to drop dead when he recognized the sea-green eyes that kept themselves glued to the floor in the dark as Sir spoke to the already excited and cheering girls.

When the lights from above pierced through the darkness of the small stage and revealed the man sitting on the stool with his guitar, Lucy, suddenly the rest of the room went quiet and all that seemed to exist, live, breathe, was Dominic—just across the room from Lorelei. He became horrendously aware of how uncomfortable he was in his uniform, how vulnerable and how unhidden he was from Dominic’s view.

What he wasn’t aware of was of how the same thoughts and feelings were racing lightening quick through Dominic’s body.

But then he began to play…and the sweet melody seemed to erase the painful tightness in his chest, and ease the jumping jitters in his stomach. And when he began to sing--oh God, how lovely he sang--suddenly nothing mattered anymore.

When it finally came down to the last song, Dominic pulled the microphone closer to him. A hush fell over the crowd, as they all waited in anticipation for the gorgeous man to speak.

“This song goes out to someone I know I’ve treated unfairly."

Lorelei’s breath caught in his throat when he realized that Dominic was staring directly at him.

“I want them to know that I’m sorry and despite what my actions have said in the past, I feel the opposite for you…”

When he began the final song, the seventh song, Lorelei wanted to break down into tears. The feeling of the song was overwhelming, all-consuming. It was almost as if every nerve in his body responded to the song. He could feel the anguished notes tugging at his own heartstrings the same way that Dominic’s fingers plucked at Lucy’s strings. There was that familiar pressure behind his eyes, deep inside. But he forced back the joyful tears, knowing that for the next little while he’d have to keep some sort of composure.

When the song ended, the girls cheered, wolf whistled, and yelled out things considered much too obscene for ladies to dare ever think of. But right after the song ended, Dominic left the stool—and his guitar beside it—and was already rushing through the large crowd of girls towards Lorelei. Sensing this, and somehow knowing it, Lorelei walked out of the kitchen door, although not towards Dominic but towards the staff room. Sure as the sun awoke the day in the east, Dominic followed him into the staff room. The uniforms for the Café were invisible to him. The wigs, make-up, the giant wall-covering mirrors were all non-existent. All that existed was the boy that leant up against one of the large mirrors, eyeing him carefully.

Lorelei suddenly blushed and looked away. “It was a lovely song.”

Dominic closed the staff room door behind him; not hearing the door click shut but instead the uneven and nervous breathing of the other boy not too far away from him. He went to the other boy, his hands wanting to reach up and stroke that heavenly shade of lilac in his hair and feel just how soft his skin looked but unsure exactly if he should or not.

“So you finally finished the song…?” Lorelei whispered. He was losing even more of his secure confidence the closer Dominic came to him.

“Yes.”

Lorelei laughed nervously. “You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say ‘yes’.” He suddenly gasped when he noticed there were barely a couple of centimeters keeping them apart. It vaguely registered that both of Dominic’s arms were beside Lorelei’s head, using the mirror to keep himself steady as he leaned in close.

“I’m sorry.”

Lorelei shifted his eyes off to the side, too scared of the intensity that might draw him in and keep him there without any hope of escaping. He was so close. He could smell his familiar scent, like spices, wood chippings, and even dust from the attic.

It was...calming. His heart beat wildly, but he'd never felt so relaxed, even trapped between the mirror and the one who had won his affections.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay.”

“No, you didn’t mean to be mean—well, you did, obviously. But you didn’t mean it at the end, and I honestly forgive—” His words were cut off when a pair of lips were crushed up against his, drowning out all nervous ramblings and apologies. Dominic’s lips were so cold, but they grew warmer as his gentle lips slowly moved across his, commanding but not forceful. Lorelei felt himself sigh at the contact, his arms rising from his sides to wrap themselves around Dominic’s neck. His body shuddered when Dominic’s hands fell from the mirror and traced down his sides, down to his hips where they firmly rested.

Dominic pulled away, kissing the corner of Lorelei’s lips. He smiled at the passionate haze that clouded over Lorelei’s grey half-closed eyes. They stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments longer, before becoming too enraptured to wait any longer. They pulled each other close to taste each other’s lips again, their love and hearts playing their own seventh song.


+~+~+~+~+~+~+~