“I liked it better when it was just us.” I say, feeling down for no reason.

“What do you mean you liked it better when it was just us?” Asks Neave.

“I mean that, like…” I pause, almost uncertain that I’d forget what I was about to say. Nope. No way could that happen. The factor had been nagging at me ever since she got here.

“I mean– Neave, I can’t love you with her around.” The sentence comes out staggered.

“Why?” She asks as if it’s a laughing matter.

“I just feel that you’re giving most of your time to her instead of me.”

“So you’re jealous?”

“No. Yes, I’m jealous Neave– I’m your boyfriend!”

“No… We’re friends with benefits actually…” She says matter-of-factly

“No, Neave I said I love you! I do love you!” I say frustrated.

I grabbed her face between my hands and proceeded to kiss her gently. “I love you.”

She looks at me and becomes embarrassed, “I love you too, Oliver.”

“Then why is she still here?” I ask almost innocently.

“Whoa, Oliver–” Neave says seriously, “It doesn’t mean because I love you that I’m letting my friends go. I will not change them for you just because you’re jealous of them” she says heatedly, putting me in my place.

I become somewhat astonished with my mouth ajar. “I’m sorry,” I say in a small voice.

“Yeah, damn right you are.” She says, eyebrows arched.

“But I can’t be in the same room, regardless.” I finish.

“We’ll make a plan, baby.” She says with a smile, “By the way, you’re my boy. Don’t take to heart what I said about us being friends with benefits.”

I smile at her: “Never would.”

Neave felt bad for me, so she suggested we find our way around town and rent a hotel so we could be alone. Thankfully, Lily graciously agreed to stay at the loft alone, so we roamed the streets of Budapest in hopes of finding a totally new hotel. Where we won’t be assassinated or captured or whatever.

“Why don’t we just go back to that motel?” She asked.

I wanted to go back there too, but it probably wasn’t safest. “No.” I say without reason.

Eventually, we found a dingy Budapest hotel where the paint was peeling and the floorboards were unsteady. It was already perfect– it was only perfect because I was with Neave.

“It’s a real gem,” I say sarcastically.

“Yeah it is,” she smiles and we share a brief kiss and drop our suitcases, almost choreographed.

Later that day she takes a bath and I walk in on her. There’s almost nothing to see, as in nothing I haven’t seen before, but I apologize anyway for intruding. Neave calls me back and asks me to join her. It’s no shower but it will have to do. I don’t want to undress so I step in with everything but my shoes and socks. She laughs and tells me I’m crazy, I don’t object to the accusation and I kiss her. Eventually I end up out of my clothes and in cold water next to her, kissing her into the night.

“Can everyday be like this?” Neave asks in my ear.

“Unfortunately not.” I say. “There’s life. And we’re all alive.”

“For now,” she remarks.

“And maybe longer…” I say. “Don’t be so negative, okay? You’ll practically live forever.” I say and she sits up and pulls her knees to her chin. I lay on the grimy bed, gazing at her beauty.

“I don’t remember…” I murmur mindlessly.

Neave’s head turns immediately: “What?”

“I don’t remember,” I say. “I don’t remember a time better than you.” My words silence her. I pucker my lips in embarrassment. Say something, say something, say something.

She does not say a word, just stares at me blankly. In a quick second my fingers are flying to her rib cage and I jab her there sharply. She lets out a sudden, loud laugh and I pull her down and kiss her long, longingly. I want more than just her; everything. “I heard you were in trouble.”

“I heard you’re trouble.” She replied and kissed me.

“Whoever told you that is as right as rain.” I smile at her, kiss her and stare into her eyes– that cold blue, that glacier of a vision. “Neave, where do we go from here? What are we?”

“I don’t know,” she says. It sends a twinge of irritation through me but I ignore it and bow down to kiss her neck.

“Are we in a relationship?” I ask in her ear and kiss there too.

“Why so many questions?” She asks, turning to me, lip to lip.

“Because I want to know where I– where we stand.” I say as she lifts my sweater up and places a cool hand on my stomach and gives in to my lips. I don’t forbid her a kiss, but I do expect an answer afterward.

The kiss goes on, and even though I’m lying on the bed, I feel like I might fall over.

“I do love you.” She says finally.

“Neave, I know you do. But that’s not what I want to hear.”

“I know it’s not what you want to hear, Oliver. It’s not what I want to say either. But–”

“But if it means so much, neither of us will have to say anything right?”

“Exactly,” She says and tries to move away but now I pull her in even closer.

“But if it makes either of us happy, will we say it?”

“I don’t know.” She says anticlimactically.

“If I say it first will you then acknowledge it?”

She beams at the idea, “Of course I will.” I feel a smile on her cheek where my head lies.

“Fine.” I say. We both expect something but nothing comes out and a smile begins to flower on both our lips.

“I thought you were going to say it.”

“Yeah… You probably thought wrong.” I smile and kiss her.

We’re quiet again, and fittingly, the silence is beginning to annoy me, but before I can even part my lips, Neave says, “I know why you didn’t say anything.”

“Why?” I ask flirtatiously, playfully,

“Because you aren’t certain either.” She says. I think she’s right. I may feel it but does that mean I’m sure? Trust my gut, right? No.

I haven’t used my gut in forever. Everything I did was thought out or an immediate impulse. I ruminated on nothing, except for that maybe I’m too scared to admit Neave and I are in a relationship.

“You’re right.” I say numbly,

“Yeah, I am.” Neave says, “But I know your feelings for me are real. Right?”

“Of course they are, Neave. Believe me, they are.”

“Good. Because mine are too and I don’t want to be in a one-way relationship.”

“Trust me. If you were to die at this time, I’d be irreparable.”

“When is your birthday?” I ask Neave. We sit in a very posh restaurant. She drinks a non-alcoholic cocktail whereas mine is practically poison.

“What was that?” she asks, removing the shades she so casually wears and detaching her lips from the greedy straw.

“When is your birthday?” I ask again, words more concentrated.

“Here’s the thing,” she begins. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” I ask, confusion evident on my face.

“I mean that we didn’t have birthdays.”

I’m utterly surprised. “Wh– wait– what?” I ask because it’s so unfathomable. “What?” I ask so loud a few people look at me. Mind your own business.

“We never actually had birthdays, Oliver.”

“Neave! What do you mean that you never had a birthday?” I ask.

“Listen, Oliver, here’s the thing,” She repeats the phrase and pauses, then places her hand on the beige colored table, her nails are painted with a black metallic polish I don’t remember buying. “We never actually had birthdays, sure we had like, cake and stuff but we didn’t work with days or calendars or almanacs or moons or whatever people use to tell time. We worked with announcement of years.” She says simply. “I seriously don’t even know on what day a new year starts. It’s January, right?”

“Neave! That’s… oh my goodness! You aren’t human without a birthday!” I say and squeeze her hand.

“I’m not human. Full-stop.” Neave smiles and winks at me.

“No. I don’t mean it like that. It’s just– Never? You’ve never had a birthday?” I’m so sorry. You deserved better. You all deserved better.

“I’m sorry.” I say.

“It’s no big deal. Birthdays are overrated anyway.” She says and the mood dies. I’m so stunned.

I’m quiet. She’s quiet. We’re both awfully quiet for a long time.

“Oliver, I’m thinking it over.”

“What?” I ask.

“Maybe we need some time… some time apart.”

My heart sinks into an abyss and I feel as if I can’t breathe.

“Wh–” I can’t even manage because her words are so horrible and I really dislike what they imply.

“You’re breaking up with me?”

“No… only temporarily,” she says.

“But you’re breaking up with me.” I state.

“Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill,” she says. “I’m doing this for us. It’s not you–”

“It’s me. Is that what you’re going to say? That it’s you?”

“No. Shut up!” She commands so that even more people look at us, annoyed with our presence.

“No!” I object.

“Oliver shut up and listen to me!” Neave commands. “I am doing this for the both of us. We need to do this, okay.”

“Why?” I ask, my heart sinking even lower.

“I’m trying to protect us. Especially you. I hate myself already for pulling you into my mess,” she says.

I pull my hand away from hers. “What did I do?”

“You did nothing. Neither of us did anything, Oliver,” she says. “I’m just doing this to throw them off. I feel we might be safer if we spent the day apart.”

“But–” I can’t even come up with the words.

“Listen, baby, it’s just a day. At most three.”

“Neave. You’re doing this to protect us. How are you going to protect us when you can’t even protect yourself?” I ask a little coldly.

“I can. Listen, Oliver. I’m not breaking up with you.”

“I feel that you’re breaking up with me!” I exclaim a little too loudly and all the eyes look at us. We have now successfully attracted everyone’s attention.

“See what you did with your overreacting?” She ridicules me. “I know it feels like I’m breaking up with you but I would never.” She says and takes my hand in hers.

“I love you.” I tell her.

“I love you too, Oliver.”

“You’ll come back to me, then?” I ask.

“No, Oliver, I’m going to find a new love and run away,” Neave says mockingly.

I recognize that she’s being sarcastic, so I play along: “Then I can’t let you go.” I say with a smile.

We stare into each other’s yes for a brief second before I ask, “How will we keep in contact?”

Her expression goes blank, “I didn’t think if that!” She says slapping her hands on her face.

“I guess now you really can’t go.” I say with light in my heart.

“We can meet up back at my place. My loft.” She says.

“Yeah. When?” I patronize her a little and reach into my pocket and pull out my cell phone and extend my hand to her.

“What?” She asks rather absent-mindedly.

“Take my phone.” I tell her, shooting her a befuddled expression.

“Your phone?” She asks a little skeptically.

“Do you know how to use it?” I ask.

“Yes. Of course. I’m not stupid” she says.

“Then go on. Take my phone.” I urge Neave.

“It won’t work if I have your phone and you don’t.” She states the obvious.

“I’ll buy a new phone.” I say, “I’m practically loaded.” I say a little boastfully.

“Oliver–” She tries to object again.

“Oh for fu-! Just take the damn phone!” I say heatedly, and she does as I tell her.

She takes it, purposely touching my hand, “Do you know your number?”

“Of course. I’m not stupid.” I say in the same tone she did.

“Thank you.” Neave says after a while.

“I’m giving my life to you because I care about you.” I say.

Later that day after buying a new phone, I fund Neave with enough money, say our farewells and watch her walk out the door of this grimy apartment which suddenly becomes a lot less perfect.

I grab Neave’s wrist and pull her toward me, placing my lips carelessly on her body. On her lips, her neck, her ear.

“I love you.” I whisper.

“I love you too.” She whispers in my ear.

“Promise it’s just a day?” I practically plead.

“I pinky promised. I’ll see you before you know it, Oli.”

“Good.” I say. It’s all I can manage, actually, because I might cry. She turns from me and I squeeze her wrist even tighter.

“No.” I say, with a tear on the brink of my eye.

“It’s okay.” She reassures me and gives me one more kiss. I let go and she leaves me in this horrible apartment.

As she descends the stairs, I fear she’ll already be in danger. Neave is strong. Stronger than I am, at least. She may be strong but she’s useless without my instruction.

I hope she’ll at least be careful.

As the last thought of her– her body, her everything– leaves my mind, I close the door and my thoughts follow in her direction.

***

Tell us: Do you know of anyone that doesn’t have an official birth date? When do they celebrate their birthday?