I tack my room on the end, as if it isn’t the most important part in all this. The private, liminal space of my room. The door that we can close. The illicit things we might do to one another. Leo glances between the door and me, and the look in his eye darkens. There’s an open yearning in them, a hunger. I wonder if he has the same qualms as I do about sin and men, before I realise God’s kingdom beyond the wards is broken. It is much easier to overlook so-called misdeeds when death is a near certainty.
