I swallowed. The word I’d tossed out glibly didn’t feel like a joke anymore.
Stefan’s expression softened a little. “That being said, I won’t object if you choose to keep using it.”
I laughed, mostly from relief. “Good to know.”
Except I knew that word would stay with me, but with a different feel to it.
Like everything else in my life right then.
I scraped the last bits of quark from the pot, and Stefan laughed. “Are you trying to eat the plastic as well?”
“We don’t have this in the UK,” I retorted. “Which issucha shame.”
He grinned. “Then at some point, I’ll take you to the supermarket near Nollendorfplatz where they sell quark flavoured with cherry, blueberries, peach and passion fruit…”
“Stop it!” I gaped at him. “Can we go now?”
Stefan guffawed. “That can wait. I have a question for you that needs answering, because time is running out.”
That intrigued the hell out of me. “Then ask it.”
“Have you though any more about the concert I told you about? Classic Meets Fetish? Because it’s tonight.”
“Yes, I’d love to go with you.” That was the easiest decision I’d made in a while.
Stefan beamed. “Great.”
“But nowIhave a question. The way you described it makes it sound as though there’s a dress code.”
He nodded. “There is, but I can help with that. I have a wardrobe full of leathers.”
I bit my lip. “We’re not exactly the same build.”
He smiled. “They belonged to my ex—you met him in Elefant, remember? He didn’t want them.” He looked me up and down. “And they’ll be a perfect fit.” Then he smiled once more. “We’ll meet at my place first. I’d like us to complement each other.” He leaned against the wall, relaxed and confident.
I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“How did you become like this?”
Stefan glanced at me, his brow furrowed. “Like what?”
I gestured vaguely, frustrated by my own lack of precision. “This. So… certain. Comfortable. Like you’re not trying to be anything other than what you are.”
He didn’t answer immediately, but now I knew why. This was his way of taking a question seriously.
“It took time,” he said at last.
I huffed. “That’s not a very satisfying answer.”
“No,” he agreed. “But it’s true.” He finished his coffee. “I wasn’t always like this. I tried, for a while, to be what I thought I was supposed to be.”
That caught my attention. “What did that look like?”
He bit his lip again. “Very convincing, I imagine, at least on the surface.” He shrugged. “The right conversations. The right places. The right version of myself.”
“And underneath?”
Stefan’s gaze shifted ahead, and I had that sense of him seeing past me. “Less certain. Less… honest.”