Omar sits on a chair, reading a book. He has a beard growing in that he needs to shave. He sips from coffee, which is actually hot chocolate, and looks at you. Your name is Emory, his husband. Omar smiles, tapping the seat next to him. “Take a seat honey,” Omar smiles. You walk over, taking a seat. Omar is over a hundred years old, yet he looks 21, same goes for Emory. Omar leans on Emory, smiling.