Arthur, have you ever been in love?”
It was midnight. The blinds didn’t shut properly. Whenever a car drove past, its headlights would momentarily slip across our faces as we laid on the floor.
Arthur slipped his arm across his eyes and grunted as he stretched his legs. “What’s the time?”
“Late,” I replied, “Have you ever been in love?”
My mouth still tasted of coke and popcorn. The television  was playing the DVD menu intro again and again and again, but I didn’t really mind. It gave me an excuse to get up and slowly turn off the screen while peeking a glance at Arthur.
He didn’t move. His arm rested perfectly across his face so that I couldn’t read his emotions when his muffled reply came, “Don’t know.”
“How can’t you know?”
“Well, have you?”
I turned off the screen and kicked an empty can across the floor. Droplets of soda sprayed through the air. I wiped the floor clean with my foot. “Yeah, I think. I kind of have.”
“Yeah? What’s it like?”
I shrugged. “Painful, mostly.”
“Ah, unrequited,” Arthur sighed and smiled. He moved his arm down and propped himself up on his elbows. “How romantic. Tell me more.”
“Well, it’s like a feeling, yeah?”
“Yes, love is a feeling,” he mocked.
I grimaced. “Right, and it’s like, I don’t know. Should I act on it? Should I let it be? What if I hurt someone?”
“How can love hurt someone?” he asked and cocked his head.
A car drove past. The light slipped across his face. His green eyes, curious, his tense lips, hesitant. His fingers curled up to meet his palms. His oversized shirt dipped to his collarbones.
“It could change things. Change can be painful,” I said, my tongue dry. I fiddled with the strap in my shorts and looked down. “Y’know, sometimes we change and we realise that it’s not all we ever wanted.”
“For you?”
“For you,” I replied and bit my inner cheek.
I knew he was watching me. Then I heard him get up. The floor creaked. His hand touched mine, just barely, but it made me shudder. I didn’t dare to look him in the eyes.
“You’ve never been good with words,” he said, and I nodded. “No, I’ve never been in love.”
I felt my heart sink. “Oh.”
“That’s assuming it’s past me. I have never been in love. I always am.”
I looked up. Another car drove past, and his lips were no longer tense, but relaxed as he smiled. I closed my fingers around his, and he pulled back and stretched, casually, as he started walking back towards the window. “But, you know, if you have only ever been in love-”
“Am,” I stuttered, “I am in love.”
He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled. “Then come show me.