Beautiful Beast by Roe Horvat

Author:Roe Horvat [Horvat, Roe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-04-30T16:00:00+00:00

Book in one hand, Joakim’s fingers in the other, Kevin followed Joakim down to Haga. They had breakfast in one of the classic Swedish cafés there, and Kevin eyed the giant cinnamon buns. He knew very well they tasted just the same as the normal ones. But one day, maybe he could buy one and try to see if he could eat it whole.

“You want one?” Joakim asked, grinning.

“The hagabulle? God, no. I would never have to eat anything ever again.”

Joakim smirked, winking at him. “Isn’t it funny? Even knowing it is way more than we can handle, we still want it.”

Did Kevin imagine the double meaning?

“They’re delicious. Maybe it’s worth trying.”

“Next time when you come visit me, we can have one to share. We can tackle it together.”

“Sounds good. Joined forces.”

“It’s a deal.”

“Where do all those pictures come from?” Kevin asked, feeling bold all of a sudden.

“What pictures? Oh! You mean in my apartment?” Joakim scratched behind his ear, looking a little embarrassed. “I am not very…stylistically pure in my home décor. I fear it’s against the canon of Scandinavian design.”

“Screw that. It’s your home. You choose what you like. They’re special and interesting. And I think they hide stories about you. I want to know more.”

Joakim looked at him for a few quiet moments, and Kevin felt naked again but in a way that made him more scared than aroused. Joakim’s penetrating gaze made him feel wanted and vulnerable at the same time. Like a prey. He suppressed a shudder at the insane thought. “Some are from my trips,” Joakim said. “I don’t buy souvenirs, but I buy pictures. Graphics and paintings from galleries or from a person selling crap on a street corner. And some of them are gifts. I inherited a few as well.”

“Like the old lady above your sofa?”

“That’s my great-grandmother in front of her house in Dalarna, painted by an insignificant local artist. His daughter gave me the picture.”

Kevin smiled. When Joakim lifted his coffee cup, the tattoo of the fern peeked from underneath his sleeve.

All those little details were falling into place, creating a mosaic in Kevin’s head: an image of a man he could easily fall in love with. Yes, Kevin was a prey. A sitting duck.

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