Page 221 of Seasons of Love
"Nothing, just a nice memory of Dri."
"Hold on to those, Vítor. They're the most precious treasure you'll ever have."
He looked at me with such earnest eyes, I just knew he was also living with his own loss. I wanted to ask him about it but decided to go with a safer topic.
"So, are you going to tell me more about your center and how I can volunteer?"
I didn't think it was possible to see an even bigger smile on his face. I was wrong.
We settled into a comfortable routine for the rest of the week. Tiago would always leave freshly brewed coffee for me in the morning before he left, and I cooked dinner for us. Two days this week he even left a sandwich I took to work for lunch. Our conversations over dinner were easy, like we'd known each other for years rather than days. We kept to safe topics like how much we both disliked football, how much we both liked custard tarts, and the differences between living in Lisbon and Porto.
Our conversations never went into personal territory. Tiago was like a locked diary, and I hadn't yet discovered where he kept the key.
This normally wouldn't bother me, but Tiago had come home looking more exhausted with each day that passed. Yesterday he'd fallen asleep on the sofa a few minutes into the movie we were watching after dinner. He'd leaned into me and I'd shifted my position to make him more comfortable. It had been both a delight and torture to have him so close to me, especially when he'd moved in his sleep and ended up with his head on my chest and his arm around my waist.
I wanted to know what was causing his tiredness. Was he having problems at the center, or was it something else? The longer I spent with him the more I could see the pain he carried, even with his eyes hiding behind the dark-rimmed glasses he wore all the time.
I'd allowed us to stay in the same position for a while, but when there was no sign that Tiago was going to wake up, I'd lifted him off the sofa and carried him into his bedroom. As I'd pulled the bed covers on top of him, he'd called out a name I couldn't understand under his breath and that he was sorry.
He'd calmed down after I'd whispered a few words to him and had tried to erase the creases in his forehead with my thumb.
"Can I borrow the key, Tiago? I promise to look after it. Let me take the pain away, my dear."
Like all the mornings since I'd moved in, Tiago was gone by the time I got up, and like all the mornings before, there had been fresh coffee waiting for me.
How long would he carry on like this before he burned out? Part of me wanted to fix whatever it was that was making him so tired and sad, and then there was part of me that reminded me he wasn't my responsibility. I was only someone he shared an apartment with, and even that was temporary, so why did I feel so strongly about the wellbeing of this young man?
I was surprised to see him home earlier than normal, and despite the bags under his eyes, he looked happy.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey, you're home early. I haven't even got dinner started."
"I was hoping to return the favor tonight."
"I thought you couldn't cook for shit."
"I can't, but there's a great restaurant a block away, and I assure you the chef can most definitely cook."
"Great, let me grab my sweater and we can go."
It was nice being able to walk to the restaurant. In Porto, I'd walked to most places and only driven when it was necessary. With the slight spring chill in the air, it was a perfect evening for a stroll.
The restaurant was on the riverside, so we followed the pedestrian path between the buildings toward the river. I hadn't had a chance to explore the surroundings yet and look at the architecture of this newly developed part of the city.
"This area has changed so much. I still remember when it was an old shipyard, and look at it now, full of homes and green areas. The Expo '98 was the best thing that happened to Lisbon."
"I agree. I remember seeing it on TV. The first time I visited this area was just after I moved to Lisbon."
"You're not from here?"
"No."
The question flew out of my mouth before I had a chance to censor myself, but now I had no doubt that whatever put all the sadness in Tiago's eyes had to do with his family, and fuck if I couldn't relate to that.
He stayed silent as we walked by the river, and it wasn't until we arrived at the restaurant that some light returned to his eyes.
"You're going to love this place."
