The fanoa who had been Cliopher’s image and dream and ideal of friendship his entire life long. They had been making love in the surf. They were not— That was not what fanoa meant. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be.
awwww poor guy
second read:
literally such a devestating moment and such an interesting representation of what representation means to people and also how queer battles and struggles morph over time. i think about this all the time
