Inspired by true events.

It was 1994. Nathaniel Avery, a 35-year-old law professor with dark wavy hair, green eyes, and ebony skin, known for his severity and cold personality, walked with a firm stride and rigid posture through the halls of the university. But in his thoughts, he held something that worried him. Only a few weeks had passed since his father’s death, and each step he took seemed to sink him further into solitude.

What made that day even harder was that the previous night, he had decided to end his relationship with his boyfriend after seeing him being unfaithful. The pain consumed his soul, and not even the calm of his classrooms could make him feel better.

With his gaze lowered, he continued walking to the faculty lounge, but it wasn’t until he looked up that he realized someone was standing in front of him. It was Émilien Chevalier, the university’s new custodian, 37 years old. His skin was pinkish and freckled, one eye was dark brown and the other blue, with a thick, slightly unkempt beard. He had emigrated from his homeland seeking better job opportunities and had accepted this job to replace another foreign custodian.

Émilien looked at Nathaniel with a mix of concern and curiosity. He barely spoke English, but his kindness and hard work had been enough to earn the sympathy of other employees and faculty on campus.

"Good... afternoon," he said, his English pronunciation wasn't good, but he tried to make himself understood.

Nathaniel responded with a faint smile, without saying a word.

The professor had seen him days before, on his way to the first class of the evening shift, when he saw him cleaning the blackboard in his classroom. The custodian was reading what was written there - Nathaniel's handwriting was clear, neat, and organized. Émilien tried to understand; his need to improve his language skills was pressing. Nathaniel watched him, waiting for Émilien to finish his work. 

The custodian hadn’t noticed his presence until a few minutes later. His blush was unexpected, and the professor found the reaction somewhat sweet, but kept those thoughts to himself. Émilien greeted him gently, lowering his head, and quickly left the classroom with his cleaning tools without saying another word.

For the professor, the first time he saw him, those melancholic heterochromatic eyes had left a strange impression on him, but he wasn’t sure if it was right or not to be curious about the man's identity. After that, their interactions were very brief, almost nonexistent - until that day. 

The custodian noticed the sadness in the professor’s eyes and felt he couldn’t walk away from him without offering something, anything, even if it was only a gesture of kindness.

“Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas ?” (What’s wrong?) he asked, with empathy and a gentle tone.

Nathaniel, surprised, looked up at Émilien. He frowned, not fully understanding the phrase, but there was something in it that conveyed genuine concern from the custodian. In a near-broken voice, trying to maintain his characteristic cold demeanor, he managed to say.

“Today hasn’t been a good day, so…” he lowered his gaze and sighed deeply.

Although Émilien didn’t fully understand English, he analyzed Nathaniel’s tone of voice and sensed the weight of his sadness. He bit his lip and, taking a step forward, offered his support.

“Je peux vous aider ?” (Can I help you?) he asked in his native language, his voice soft and reflecting a willingness to help.

Nathaniel smiled faintly, feeling, for the first time in days, a connection with another person, despite not sharing the same language. He wanted to express his hidden feelings in words, but preferred to keep them to himself.

“I barely know you, but I wish I wasn’t alone,” he thought.

Émilien intuitively understood what Nathaniel was trying to convey with his gaze. He hesitated several times; perhaps it was a bad idea, perhaps too bold. But with a warm smile, he moved closer, trying not to make him uncomfortable. With courage and serenity, as if he had known the professor his whole life, he slowly raised his arms, indicating with his eyes.

“Est-ce que je peux te faire un câlin ?” (Is it okay if I can hug you?)

Surprise and, at the same time, a sense of gratitude were reflected in Nathaniel’s eyes. He looked at the custodian and took a deep breath. He might have rejected the gesture, might have said no - they barely knew each other -, but he wanted someone’s support. He desired it and needed it. He had lost count of how long he had craved something like this - a hug, a feeling of comfort. Silently, he nodded, and Émilien, without saying anything more, moved closer and hugged him.

It was a firm, comforting hug. As Nathaniel rested his head on Émilien's shoulder, he felt the sadness in his chest ease. He took a deep breath. He didn’t feel like crying - he wasn’t that kind of person - and in his thoughts, he once again expressed what he would have wanted to say to the kind custodian if he had known French.

“You don’t know how much I needed this.”

Émilien understood. He held him tighter, silently promising he would be there for him. The moment was eternal and warm. Minutes later, both men slowly pulled away from each other. Then Nathaniel narrowed his gaze, conveying his gratitude through his eyes, and introduced himself to the custodian with determination.

“My name is Nathaniel Avery. Nice to meet you.”

Émilien's eyes widened in surprise, then he lowered his head shyly and said his name.

“Émilien Chevalier, Mr. Avery.”

The professor smiled slightly, feeling renewed and more at peace with his thoughts. Nathaniel and Émilien parted ways, taking different paths but hoping to see each other again

***

After that day, Nathaniel and Émilien regularly met eyes in the university halls, sometimes casually, with a formal greeting like with any other employee, but other times intentionally, without any ill intentions. They greeted and looked at each other with smiles and kind gestures, as mutual respect and trust grew between them.

On one of those occasions, Nathaniel ventured to say a few words in French that he had learned on his own.

“M-merci beaucoup, Émilien ?” (Thank you very much, Émilien?) he said timidly, wondering if he had pronounced the custodian's name correctly but grateful once again for that hug.

Émilien, surprised and moved by the effort, replied,

“My… pleasure, Mr. Avery!”

The professor looked at him without blinking, wanting to approach him more openly to break the formalities imposed by their roles.

“Please, call me by my name. You don’t need to be so formal,” he said, speaking clearly and firmly so Émilien would understand.

The freckled man hesitated, took a deep breath. He knew what the man before him was saying, and with a nervous laugh, he spoke the words Nathaniel had impatiently hoped to hear.

“Oui, Nathaniel.” (Yes, Nathaniel.)

At that moment, Nathaniel realized that his connection with Émilien went beyond friendship. The custodian, in turn, also began to have deeper, more romantic feelings for the professor. Both secretly hoped that, over time, despite the language barriers, their gestures and gazes would express what they needed, with a love that grew stronger every day.

It was a possibility.