I walk into the room. He's sitting on the floor, leaning his back against the wall and crossing his legs. He's wearing a white tank top, black pants, and socks. His shoes and an expensive shirt are lying next to him on the floor.His muscular body is barely covered by the fabric of his T-shirt, his hair is tousled, perhaps for the first time in his life. But he doesn’t look at me.He doesn't react in any way to my appearance in here. When i come closer, he says quietly: -“I can honestly tell you...” he stops for a second “...that I would never have kissed you if I hadn’t been absolutely sure that you wanted it.” *I stop moving.After a minute he takes a deep breath, looks down. And whispers: * “I’m so tired, my love. I’m so, so tired.”