You stood in front of the mirror, Oscar by your side, both dressed in black, a striking pair. His shirt slid over his shoulders, concealing the faint scratches on his back — silent evidence of the intimacy you shared. Around your neck, the necklace with the number 81 gleamed, a quiet tribute to him, to you, to this secret world you had built together.

As you wiped the smudge of lipstick from his face, he smiled, that boyish grin that always made your heart skip. His voice dropped to a whisper, soft but resolute. “I know we have to keep this hidden, but I want the world to see you, to see us.”

You couldn’t help but smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek, undoing your careful work as the lipstick left its mark once more. It was messy, imperfect, but it was yours. And so it goes.