I was sitting at a table overlooking a snow covered mountain, with some trey jagged rocks showing their side through the snow.

“Liking it here?” I asked Tyler. He was sitting across from me at a small round metal table.

“Yeah,” he cheerfully responded, “it’s colder than I thought.”

“Different from L.A. that’s for sure.”

I looked out at the mountains again. Beautiful. Ginormous. Amazing that humans can conquer such a thing.

“First time trying gin?” I asked. As Tyler seemed surprised at the taste of his drink.

“First time trying any hard liquor.” He informed me “I usually drink wine. Or champagne at parties.”

“Oh.” I responded. “What kind?”

“Usually white, Riesling specifically.” He said, thinking a bit. “Sometimes I mix red wine and kiwi juice.”

“…Why?”

“Because like it. It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah… it’s just… kiwi juice?”

“Yes, kiwi juice. People have different tastes.”

“I don’t think I’ve even heard of kiwi juice.” I said, looking off in the distance thinking. “What does that taste like?”

“Kiwis.”

“Oh yeah that makes sense.”

I took a sip of my red wine. Tyler took a sip of his gin. We both set our glasses down on the table at the same time and smiled at each other. Tyler looked away.

“Are you okay?” I asked him in a nice tone that wasn’t too nice to be demeaning.

“Not really…” He half-responded. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

He didn’t respond.

“…I can’t force you to do something you’re uncomfortable with,” I said to his avoiding look, “But you can’t just ignore yourself. Just because you don’t think about something doesn’t make it go away.”

He still didn’t respond. “What you said to me two days ago was beautiful. It was honest. Where is that part of you. You’re like a whole different person.”

He looked up at me. “I know what I’m thinking, but I just don’t know how to say it to you.”

“Don’t,” I said, reaching for his hand on his glass, “Show me.” I grabbed his hand. He let me lead him up and closer to me. I wrapped my arms around him, he put his arms up on my shoulders. I held him right up against me.

We started to sway back and forth. I led, he obediently followed. “You know,” I said, “Almost all of what someone is feeling is conveyed in their actions.” We slowly but steadily turned around. “I can see everything. Your love, hate, fear, uneasiness in me.” He rested my head against my left breast. “You’re overwhelmed. Too many conflicting emotions.” The environment began to feel farther and farther away as Tyler felt closer. I could feel his breathing resonating through my torso. His handgun pressed hard into my belly.“You don’t know what to do. You’re looking for guidance, but you don’t know where to look; and even if you did, you’d insist it was the wrong place.” I moved my hands down, my left down further. My right hand rested just on the top of the curve of his cute, tight butt - the right on the bottom half. Tyler seemed to be loosing thought. He sunk deeper into his feelings and farther away from the physical. He sank into my warmth and let me move him however I wanted. then he moved to look up at me and smiled, and then pushed away from me in a way that would not worry the few people around us.

He sat down and drank about half of the remaining gin in his glass. I just finished sitting down when he set his glass down. He looked at his smartwatch, slid a few things, and then tapped a button. “I called my car. I want to leave.” He said. He got up and started heading towards the door. I got out my wallet and handed two ten Euro notes to the bartender. “Merci.” I said to him, handing him the bills. “Merci, Monsieur. Bonne journée!” He said back to me.

I sped walked to catch up with Tyler, who was getting in the driver’s seat of his car: a Dodge Challenger with rough, black stained aluminum metal instead of paint. I got in the passenger side. As soon as I had my seat belt on the car drove away.

“Don’t touch me like that!” He shouted at me.

“Don’t touch you like what?” I asked back.

“Don’t touch me inappropriately. I don’t like it.” He elaborated, still angry.

“‘Inappropriately’? Oh come on. There is no way you didn’t like that.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” He said turning towards me, “I don’t want you doing it… It’s weird…”