Adian wakes at 5.30 to go for a run. We skip dinner because it’s easier. Adian doesn’t have any

condoms so I pick up some. Adian’s too big for condoms so we go without. Adian has a fiancée and

loves her very much. Adian was engaged last year and had his heart-broken. Adian buys himself

tulips. He posts skits of himself online, people comment things like: Adian you’re funny as fuck!

Adian says I’m mature for my age. He hooks two fingers in my mouth, calls me a little slut. He

doesn’t care about my period, blood all over his sheets. He still sleeps in them after a week. Adian

never expects me round but kisses me hard against his closed door. He knows I just want to be

fucked. He’s never made a girl come this much before. Adian misses his mum who lives in Italy.

Adian also misses his mum who lives in New York. He spends whole days in cafes. He just wants to

make art and be happy. Adian makes me a mix-tape for my birthday. He cooks my favourite meal;

prawn linguini in a red sauce. Adian loves his fiancée. He loses his hard on in the car. Adian’s still in

love with his ex. He loses his hard on in bed. Adian says I’m incredible, a bouquet scattered over

the wet mattress. He grabs his phone, takes photos of the mess. His ex is really skinny. His fiancée is

so petite sometimes it doesn’t fit, I’m offended and he says it’s just genetics. He says he prefers the

underwear I wore last week. He doesn’t need to be delicate, we’re just friends. We’re just fucking.

He says, look at her! He holds my waist like a mannequin in the black eye of a webcam, the

audience tell him to be gentle. Adian’s nervous about commitment. He sends me voice notes at 2am.

He’s sorry. He doesn’t trust himself but fuck it. We have a connection, losing me would be the worst

thing. Adian invites me to stay the whole weekend. We drink hot chocolate with his sister. Adian

puts on Goodfellas, The Sopranos, says I remind him of Gloria Trillo, my arse is Italian, English

girls are different. He outlines the shape with his fingers. He says if I got pregnant, he’d let me keep

it. Adian runs a bath. He washes my hair. He buys brunch the next day, begins talking. He says his

fiancée gets home on Thursday. Adian walks me to the station, soaks my tears in his chest. He says

we aren’t in a film. He’s not going forever. Adian calls to check in, assures me it’s not my fault, I’m

just young and in love. Our secret has been more of a weight than he expected. He says I’m a

special girl. He loves me very much. What am I wearing? There’s something about my voice, the

way my…. his name wobbles from my lips.