Three months.

Between the moment my friends found me on Botafogo Beach and now, about ninety days had passed. And the perspective was that I would spend even more time, since the ultimate goal (to fully recover) still seemed very distant.

It was early morning, and I was in the kitchen sipping hot milk with butter cookies that Gavin had baked that afternoon. I still slept in the same bed as him, despite Dr. Solloman agreeing that I was no longer in as much danger when alone. The intensive therapy I had been immersed in for two months was yielding many results, despite my... more obvious symptoms bravely resisting.

It wasn't my habit to stay up all night. Thanks to balanced nutrition and more or less regular schedules, my sleep usually came and knocked me out until eight in the morning. However, thoughts raced through my mind. Not an anxiety crisis or panic attack, but fragmented information that I tried to piece together like a puzzle.

The interaction Donovan and I had earlier was, undoubtedly, a bit strange. Not unpleasant, but unusual. I felt in his gaze and body language a kind of message much clearer than the previous ones, as if it were not a novelty, but had never been clarified.

He was clearly taken aback after our intense eye contact, and although I knew that most people don't like to be stared at directly, I didn't understand why he reacted that way, since because of my muteness, the only way to communicate deeply with me was through that.

But it wasn't just that. There was something in the air, an almost palpable static. A sky full of electrified clouds before such a storm hit, so to speak. But before the lightning could strike the ground, the clouds were whisked away as if they had never existed.

My interaction with the tall man with dark skin and serious features had always been friendly. He talked to me all the time; told me made-up and real stories and always seemed very comfortable by my side. It was common for him to compliment and congratulate me, as well as always smiling to encourage and cheer me on.

His body was strong, and I found out that besides genetic predisposition, he spent at least two days a week working out hard at home. But the real strength was in his mind. I knew that if he wanted to, he could destroy someone with two sentences. And that didn't scare me, quite the opposite. I felt safe and protected with him by my side. A true fortress of stones and comforting words.

I noticed the times when he kept an eye on me when he thought I wasn't looking, and to be completely honest, I also admired him discreetly. It takes a lot of character and discernment to have so much strength and still be good, honest, and loyal. After all, humans are highly corruptible and prone to excesses when they think they are above everyone else.

Those dark eyes full of wisdom... It was hard not to think about them, especially after that intense contact. Which also reminded me...

The other American who reached out to me. The blond friend with slightly athletic blue eyes, emotion instead of reason.

Not that Donovan was devoid of feelings, but while the second in Urus' hierarchy seemed to hold back as much as possible most of the time, Gavin didn't see the point in hiding emotions. His words weren't rehearsed speeches; he just said what he felt, and didn't feel bad about it. He had his heart as his main guide, and the duty he took upon himself to take care of me was taken extremely seriously.

Every day when he woke up, he said good morning to me and said he would prepare our coffee. He talked to me about everything, from the things he loved most to the things he hated most; asked for advice on what to wear that day and was always trying to keep my mind entertained. He bought me a bunch of books and felt happy when he saw me devouring page after page. When I washed my clothes and prepared my food, he often said he didn't need to and tried his best to do it for me. Sometimes he succeeded, but I felt like he was trying to pamper me too much.

Our deepest conversations were the ones where we kept staring at each other without stopping. And I felt like I understood every blink, every gulp, and every breath faster than the other. At those times, the time outside slowed down. And without a single word spoken, things between us became clearer than if verbalized.

When he prepared the material for the English course website, he was a little more serious than usual. Friendly, Professor Gavin said I could stay in the room while he recorded, but I knew it was something just for him and needed focus. So I stayed in my room until he finished everything.

I hadn't seen much of his body, since I was always around, he was always properly covered. Even in the heat, he wore tank tops made of special fabric instead of taking off his shirt. But once I saw out of the corner of my eye.

when he went to the balcony to contemplate life for a moment, and he took off his shirt for a few minutes before returning, as it was unusually hot. As I imagined, he had a slightly defined chest and a flat stomach. Light-colored hairs covered most of his torso, and it was a very pleasant sight to see.

He was a handsome man, friendly and full of love. A beautiful young man in body and soul, who would never intentionally hurt anyone and would spend the rest of his life trying to fix any mistakes he might make.

How lucky I was.

At least that's what I had been thinking over the past few weeks, being cared for by the most attentive guys on the planet. But now I saw that it wasn't so simple. Our coexistence was awakening something. And I couldn't quite understand what it was. It was like trying to look at the reflection in a fogged mirror: you know what's there, but you can't define it.

I take another bite of a cookie as I look at the stairs leading to Gavin's room. The two friends were different from each other, but they loved and supported each other in everything, as best they could. And now both were focused on my recovery. Not only that. They were thinking or feeling something... Different.

So was I.

An image comes to mind before I can contain it: Donovan holding my left hand firmly and assertively, and Gavin holding my right hand, gently stroking the back with his thumb. Both are smiling at me and saying they won't leave me alone.

I let the cookie fall. I must be getting sleepy.

I give up on continuing the late-night snack. I put away what's left in the plastic container and leave the remaining milk in the fridge, so I can use it tomorrow for breakfast. As I start to head to the bathroom to brush my teeth, Gavin's figure appears one level above me.

"Still awake?" He yawns and rubs his eyes.

I open my mouth to try to speak to him, but no sound comes out.

His expression is one of surprise. Then he asks:

"Y-you... You tried... to speak?"

I nod my head. Gavin descends the steps as quickly as he can and comes to me, probably wanting to hold my hands, but stops at the last second. Then he smiles, that sleepy face of his:

"My God, I... Wow... I..."

I smile. Then I point to the bathroom and make a gesture to "wait here." I brush my teeth very quickly and come out. I pass by him, signal for him to "come here," and go up the stairs.

In the room, intoxicated by the usual blue light from the bedside lamp, I feel that sensation once again. It feels like a tickle in the heart.

As if guessing my thoughts, even though sleepy, he looks at me. We stay like this for at least five minutes, lying down looking at each other. I don't know which of us breaks eye contact first, but I know I slept deeply afterward.