#you have no idea how it killed me to make thisssss 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[guppygiggles]

A Sure Test 🪶

“Ah, ah, don't get up! Casper, how many times have I told you… you're my guest. Please, let me clear the table.” 

We'd been together for over a year, but nothing, it seemed, could dissuade Avery from doting on me. Back at my apartment I could occasionally convince him to relent, but never in his lighthouse. I smiled sheepishly as he took our plates to the sink, humming as he began to hand-wash them. 

Relaxing in the wooden chair, I turned my attention toward the springline window. As it ascended toward noon, a sweltering summer sun cast a shaft of white light into the kitchen, sending it dancing across wooden cabinetry and ceramic tile, passing translucently through Avery's bare limbs. I watched him quietly; even doing chores, he looked neat and dignified. 

“Hey, Avery?” I spoke over the clattering dishes. 

“Yes, dear.” 

“How can I be more like you?”

“What do you mean, like me?”

“You know… like, fancy, like you. Like, how you always seem put-together, or whatever… a gentleman.” 

He turned the sink off, turning to face me as he dried a plate with a strawberry-print towel. Grinning curiously, he leaned back against the counter. 

“What do you think makes someone a gentleman?” He asked. 

I thought for a moment. 

“Well… I guess, knowing how to dress… knowing what to say, like you always do… like, how you always seem so natural and relaxed…” My eyes traced the gray thinset dividing the pristine floor tiles. 

He set the plate down, standing before me in two Avery-sized steps. 

“Casper… being a gentleman isn't about clothing, demeanor, or even eloquence of speech – it's about integrity, kindness, and a bit of confidence; that's all. And for all that I may seem,” he tilted my chin up with a fingertip, “I am not all of those things, all of the time. Nobody is… Nobody can be. You may not be like me, but in the ways that matter, love… You are a gentleman.” 

I blushed, smiling a bit as I looked away from his pale, gentle eyes. He really did always know just what to say. Avery returned to the counter, resuming drying the dishes and putting them away. After a while, he spoke again. 

“If you're still unsatisfied, though… In terms of being a gentleman, there is a sure test…” 

I looked up, brow furrowed. 

“A test? What kind of test?” 

Avery folded his hands behind his back, a sly spark in his eye that I caught way too late. 

He cleared his throat ceremoniously.