Once alone, John dozed off, sleeping until noises from the corridor woke him up. Boys messing around, most likely. Then Rocìo, the landlord’s fat, Spanish wife, knocked on his door like she did every day, to ask if he wanted a bath. He sent her away in no uncertain terms.
Now somebody was knocking again.
“Go away, Rocìo, I told you to leave me alone!” he hollered, irritated.
Silence, and then, softly: “It’s Benjamin…”
John bolted upright in bed, his big, blue eyes opening wide, fixed on the door. After a brief initial hesitation, he jumped up and opened the door. They looked into each other’s eyes through the gap.
“Forgive me,” was all Benjamin said, before pushing the door open, taking him by the shoulders, pulling him close, and pressing his lips on John’s. John closed his eyes and
