February 2017
25 years old Alan
Uncomfortable.
Awkward.
They are part of the things Alan should be feeling as he’s sat across Dominic at a restaurant. Alan licks his lips, picks up the glass of water in front of him and took a sip. He and Dominic had both placed their order some minutes ago and so far they’ve just sat in silence. Dominic had booked a room on the top floor of the restaurant, their table was long and stacked with carefully arranged baskets of bread and salted butter along with some empty glasses, plates and four sets of cutlery. The room where they are is draped with white curtains and long-stemmed yellow flowers.
“’I’m sorry.”
Alan blinked repeatedly before looking up at the man that had spoken. What is Dominic sorry for?
“I don’t understand.”
Dominic nods and raise
