Thomas hangs on their every word. His admiration grows with every factoid of a life that does not exist. By the end of their tale, Milo expects to feel proud of the web of lies they have spun around themselves. But what they find instead within themselves is a depth of unimaginable melancholy when they realise this version of Milo -this version of themselves- will never be real. This life will never be theirs to live. 

By this point, the bottle of wine is empty and Milo is feeling more than a little unmoored. However, they don’t regret their actions yet. Thomas has taken reign of the conversation and the topic is escalating into the deeply personal. 

“Jealous exes… Who would’ve thought we have that in common? What’s his name again?” He swirls the remainder of his drink around, then throws it back with a big gulp. So much for the expensive wine… At least it did not go to waste. 

“His name’s Casper, used to be in the band, but he got kicked out by Victoria when she heard what he’d done. I love that woman. She’s the best. No, the best of the best!” Milo exclaims. The alcohol makes them bolder, brasher, louder. 

“So, I’m guessing you prefer men then?” Thomas answers, not unaffected by the alcohol himself. 

Milo peers into their empty glass with a disappointed expression. “On the whole, yes.” They sigh. “But I’m open to dating anyone. The trust issues left by Casper make it difficult to date at all though.” 

“Amen,” Thomas answers. He raises his empty glass in a halfhearted toast. “A-men.” He then chuckles, entertained by an inner joke Milo cannot guess the punchline of. 

“That’s why I originally came here. Not to Italy, but to the hotel’s bar, I mean.” He stares solemnly at the empty wine bottle. “I wanted to find some company, no strings, no attachments. I don’t want a repeat of what I had with Carlos. Not here, not now, not ever.” 

Milo smiles nervously. They feel like the conversation is treading into dangerous territory. They remove their shoes and pull their legs up on the couch. “Must be easy getting chicks when you’re so rich and famous,” they lament, hugging their knees close to their chest. 

“Who said anything about chicks?” There is a daring glint in his eyes but then he shrugs it off. He kicks off his sneakers, resting his feet on the table. “You’d be surprised actually… If anything, it makes it more difficult. Not many are willing to sneak around with the paparazzi on their heels." His laugh is shallow. “Oh, and forget about no attachments; once someone recognises you, it’s over. Everyone wants something from you.” 

Thomas no longer looks like a tiger ready to pounce on prey as he was when Milo first laid their eyes on him. He looks far more vulnerable and comfortable. Normal, is the word Milo is looking for. 

“That's why I’m glad I met you,” he says. “You’re the first person I have had a normal conversation with in what feels like forever.” He draws up his legs and playfully bumps his knee against Milo’s, giving them a knowing look. “You’re the loveliest person I’ve met in all of Milan, Milo.”

The thought of what it would be like to build a life with this man hits Milo like a lightning bolt. But the idea is immediately shot down by a pang of guilt. They are a matchmaker, for fucks sake! A life together… It is what they are depriving Jolyn of by wasting their time talking to Thomas. 

They remind themselves that Milo, as Thomas knows them, does not exist. Any kind of relationship -whether romantic, platonic, or even sexual- could never be in the cards for them. But oh, how they long for it! 

There is a disgusting eagerness at the back of their throat, a desperate hunger to taste Thomas’ mouth, to dig their fingernails into his skin and to be trusted with his deepest secrets. The realization makes them feel sick with guilt. No, not with guilt… sick with a dizzying desire. 

Thomas misinterprets Milo’s expression as one of disgust and consequently hurries to make his intentions clear. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to sound like I just want to hook up with you. Obviously, I do! I think you’re incredibly hot and those dimples make me want to- Point is, I couldn’t be happier if you want to have sex with me. Oh god, I’m so drunk… I’m rambling, aren’t I? Let me rephrase this.” 

He takes a deep breath and continues calmly: “I’m having a wonderful time talking to you. If that’s all you want to do I’m cool keeping this” -he gestures to himself and Milo- “platonic. But you’re beautiful and I can’t help thinking this can be more if we allow it to.” 

“No, no, that’s not it… You’re amazing. I’m just-” Milo is baffled that the attraction they believed could only be one-sided is experienced just -if not more- intensely by Thomas. 

For a moment, their drumming heart drowns out any thought. Can a human willingly fall for a matchmaker? They had not believed it to be possible before, but they believe it now. Milo had interpreted Thomas' attitude as the inherent playfulness of a bachelor on the prowl but maybe his flirtation is genuine. No, they are certain it is. 

“Is it instead that you’re a virgin? I truly don’t mind if that’s what worries you,” Thomas interrupts in an attempt to put Milo at ease.

To ask this question to a holy matchmaker feels so inappropriate that Milo suddenly bursts out into laughter. "No, no, I'm not. I'm just surprised you are into people like me, is all." 

Their anxiety makes way for a certain fondness and they know at once it is no use going against the grain. They can struggle all they like against their attraction but their heart already belongs to Thomas. 

“God, Milo, isn’t that clear from the way I’ve been flirting with you all night? You’re completely my type!” Thomas exclaims, exasperated. 

“Well in that case…” Milo stands up from the couch and sits back down on Thomas’ lap. Thomas’ eyes become as big as saucers. Milo chuckles, wrapping their arms around his neck. “Can I kiss you?” 

Although it was Milo who asked the question, it is Thomas who presses his lips against Milo’s first. They simply give in, letting themselves be unravelled by the fire that kindles in their chest. They know then that there is no going back and with a spark of bittersweet joy they decide that if they are going to sin, they will go out swinging.