Being forced to move so many states away from all that he once knew, Nessa was nervous to tackle his new life. Fortunately, it didn't take long for Nessa to meet a plethora of unique individuals who welcomed him into their lives:
The optimist, the k...
It was going to be a wonderful day, and Nessa knew that for a fact. Whatever happened, he would enjoy every second of it. The way that he used to. The way that he was trying to learn how to do again.
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Despite everything he had been through in his intense life, he found something that still scared him. Why did it, though? Of all the things that made Venice the most anxious, he never thought that a date would be among the worst.
He wasn't initially nervous when Nessa smiled that lovely smile of his and asked if Venice would go on a date with him. Because when Venice really thought about it, they had practically been on a million dates already. To some degree, he knew that whatever they did that day wasn't going to be any different than their usual interactions. Ever since they met, there had always been a sense of intimacy in the way that they spoke to one another. As though it was simply fated to end up that way. It seemed that deep down they knew it would happen.
But he was still somehow terrified of what was going to come next. Where would life take them? Venice had such a difficult time making true connections to the people around him, and he couldn't bear the idea that perhaps Nessa and him wouldn't work out. He didn't know if he would ever be able to give it another shot with a different person if it came to that, because it was just too difficult to find the right kind of person.
Not knowing what to do with himself, he reluctantly entered Ilya's room and told him how he felt. Ilya just grinned from ear to ear, nudging Venice with a wiggle in his brow.
"I'm fucking proud of you, man." He told him. "You've come such a long way from when my dad first dragged you home. You don't have to be scared anymore, not when you've got us."
And Venice thought about crying at such a statement. He didn't. In fact, tears didn't even well up in his eyes. But inside, it felt like he was sobbing. He didn't tell Ilya any of that. He just hugged him in his unique sort of way, and told him the truth about how much he truly did like Nessa. Ilya just told him to get off of his ass and make that man his own.
So there Venice was, walking down the street with Nessa beside him. The sky was swathed in gentle grey blankets, and he associated it with the promise of the snow that was going to fall later that day. He wondered if it would be cold enough for it to stick, or if it was going to heat back up enough for it to melt without a trace.
Right then, Nessa wore a big blue zip up over his starry sweater and overalls. He said that he was excited to see snow for the first time ever. He kept stealing glances upwards as though he was hoping to catch the very first flake as it descended. Venice knew that despite Nessa's imperfect memory, he was never going to forget that moment.
However, Nessa was also clearly cold. He was shivering slightly, and he kept tugging on his his jacket as though wondering if it was going to do more. Venice was old friends with the cold. They had exchanged long talks on homeless nights, and he had grown accustomed to the way it spoke.
