Chapter 3: A BirthdayThe second of January. Colby’s birthday. He wiggled toes under the bedsheet.
Jason had, a moment ago, kissed him and told him not to get up, aside from general early-morning routine needs, and to get back under blankets and remain warm. Had promised breakfast in bed, and some surprises. Jason had plans, evidently.
Rain hung in the air, but not heavily: a mystical opalescent dusting of mist, a veil, a susurration. The flat wrapped festive cheer around him, woven in holiday decorations. The season hung glittery snowflakes and caught light along bronze candleholders and laced the air with pine and nutmeg and roasted chestnut scents.
Home, Colby repeated to himself silently. His home, with Jason.
He hadn’t thought much about his birthday. He hadn’t planned to have any
