36
He hears Chris telling Mary, "I'm telling you, he seems happy. It's amazing!"

He wants to tell her that water-breathing dragons can visit a rehab centre too. Sometimes, they even kiss a patient, whether he can walk or not.

37
At night, Orlando waltzes around with a girl named Matilda, waiting for Viggo to cut in. Until then, he compliments her dress, her hair and fears the possibility that starts shadowing even his dream. That only this part of the dream will be dreamt or worse yet, that only this part will come true.

38
Orlando reads some of his poems to Viggo. After he heard from Chris that his caretaker published one book of poetry in America before moving here, he told him of wanting to write down the words that rattle about in his brain. Viggo promised him pen and paper, before asking if he'll get to hear a sample.

"It might be about Delishoons." Orlando grinned.

Viggo's smile widened. "I'd still want to hear it."

He's written some down and Orlando chooses one about rays of light framing the figure of a beloved and reads it, slowly and intensely.

39
"You have a beautiful mind."

Neither one of them says anything else, letting the fading echo of Viggo's words last a while longer.

Orlando feels the moon beating in his chest.

40
The pace of the waltz quickens.
His eyes search the room, over Matilda's head, but he can't see Viggo anywhere.

41
The next day's massage brings a Viggo who has trouble concentrating and who, when Orlando manages to snap him out of his disorientation, has a trace of fear in his eyes.

No questions are asked and the massage goes on in silence.

Until Orlando makes an effort, Viggo doesn't notice it at first, and pushes himself using his arms onto his back. Their faces at a proximity they haven't shared before, Viggo's eyes are bluer than can be expected and his lips are a gravitational black hole.

42
Orlando can't remember it, the kiss, but he can still feel its tingles on the walls of his mouth and all over his tongue. He knows it has to be the same for Viggo. After all, mouths were open, walls were taken down while his soul was sucked out of his body and replaced with the one his tongue was demanding from Viggo.

When the man pulled away, he didn't look at the clock, because he wouldn't let the illusion that the kiss went on forever be shattered into pieces. He didn't look at the clock to avoid knowing how many minutes have passed since Viggo had stormed out of the room, when he couldn't even run after him.

To be continued...