When we got back to Ferran, the boy was just lounging on the mat, scrolling through his phone. Momo had walked further ahead of me, walking up to the boy hurriedly.

"Sorry for the wait," Momo said as he plopped himself next to Ferran.

Ferran only nodded shyly. I sat back down beside him, running my hand through his golden hair. I honestly had lost my appetite – I couldn't help but feel disappointed in myself. I'm let everyone down. I've let Momo down.

With a sigh, I lay down on my back, looking up at the frigid blue sky. I was surrounded by the most beautiful flowers, together with the most beautiful boys, yet my heart was still clouded by the cold clutches of melancholy. It seems like no matter what I do, I can never shake away the pain.

Sitting back up again, I turned to look at Ferran. Every bit of him was perfect, from his blond hair to his blue eyes to the drops of red on his cream turtleneck. I could pin him down and take him there and then, under the almond blossoms, but I knew that would just be a death sentence to what I have with Momo. He didn't say it, but I knew what he wanted – for me to cut things off with Ferran.

I had to think about it.

Momo sat behind the boy, legs tucked to his chest as he rested his chin on his knees. He smiled. I smiled back.

"I think we should start heading back," I said.

Without a word, the two of them started packing up. I guess we all agreed that the situation was awkward enough as it is, and we were just waiting for one of us to speak up. And that person just happened to be me. Fitting, I guess.

It was only then when I realised we never took any pictures. Not like I was too keen on it, but I guess it was just something good to break the tension that was gnawing away at us. Ferran didn't want to, so that just left Momo and I.

We just stood next to each other beneath the almond blossoms, while Ferran helped us to snap some photos. As I stood closer to Momo, I caught the faint whiff of his cologne. The smell of warmth that I had grown so accustomed to. The warmth that I had taken for granted.

I leaned in to kiss his cheek, but Momo turned around, his lips meeting mine. It was a quick soft peck, almost like a mark of territory to show the world that I was his.

Ferran had snapped a few pictures of us on his phone. Momo asked him to send him over to him on his Instagram. I asked for them too.

The photos were pretty, but I couldn't help but feel so disconnected. It was all so perfect, the way the petals fell around us, the way I swooped in to kiss Momo, the way his chin craned upwards to meet my lips. But I felt like I wasn't there. I could only thank Ferran as we picked up our things quietly and made our way back.

Ferran walked ahead, while I fell back to be with Momo.

"Look, it's difficult," I muttered. "I made a promise to Rafel."

"Let's not talk about this," Momo cut in rather curtly, putting his hand up dismissively.

I could only sigh as we walked up the forested path, heading back towards the main village.

When Ferran stopped suddenly, Momo and I instinctively looked at each other. Something seemed to have caught the boy's eye. Momo was about to walk up to him, but I grabbed his sleeve, stopping him in his tracks.

We watched as Ferran walked up to the base of a tree. His gaze was fixed at something on the ground, as he stood there for what seemed like minutes. Suddenly, he squatted down, and he began to dig at the soil with his bare hands. By that point, it seemed beyond reason to just let him go on and just observe him.

"What are you doing?" Momo asked as he walked up to the boy. "You might hurt yourself."

Ferran only looked up at us from the ground as we stood above him. With the soft sunlight on his face, his arctic blue eyes, and the way his lips parted ever so slightly, he looked as angelic as ever. In front of him, lying on a patch of dirt, was a bird. It had a beautiful coat of grey feathers, with streaks of white and black. Its wings were twisted in angles I have never seen before, its feet curled up, facing skywards.

"I thought I should bury it," the boy muttered as he looked at the bird. "It's the least I could do."

Momo looked puzzled, but I simply nodded at Ferran.

"Of course," I said, as I stroked his soft golden hair.

The two of us merely watched in solemn silence as the boy dug up a shallow grave with his pale, delicate hands. He didn't seem to care about the dirt between his fingers. He didn't seem to care or have any concerns about touching the dead bird either. Gently, he cradled the bird into its resting place.

As the bird lay in its little grave, Ferran gazed at it for a while, deep in contemplation. I could only wonder what thoughts were going through his pretty little head. Finally, he covered the bird with soil before standing up.

We only watched as Ferran walked over to the river, next to a spot by a wisteria tree growing by the bank. The flowers cascaded downwards, like a half-suspended waterfall of lilac as the sunlight poured through the gaps between the leaves and the branches above, causing the boy's blonde hair to glisten. He pulled his sleeves back as he squatted by the river, dipping his hands into the cool water. He was truly ethereal.

As I shifted my gaze from Ferran by the river, to Momo beside me, I came to a realisation. A realisation that I should've seen coming for a long time to be completely honest. Deep in my heart I knew that the delicate balance that I've been trying to maintain between these two very different worlds was rotting from within, gnawing at me with this hollow, visceral rot. I suppose in a misguided, or perhaps even desperate bid to save this fragile balance, to maintain this status quo of convenience, that this trip was merely an attempt at reconciling the irreconcilable. I didn't know whether it was naivete or just delusion.

Perhaps it was only until these worlds collided did I realise that they simply could not coexist, and that I needed to choose one over the other. The sad reality dawned on me that I would have to make a decision, but I just pushed it to the back of my mind. It was simply too strange for me to think of life without either of them. I wouldn't make a choice until I really had to.

***

We were silent on our way back to the small rustic hotel, Ferran retiring to his room and Momo and I to ours. The silence allowed me to finally think about everything. It made me realise things about Momo and Ferran that I never realised until now.

I used to associate death, pain and suffering to Ferran. How my experiences with him were tinted blue with grief and sorrow. But wasn't that the same with Momo? It wasn't like Momo's life was untouched by sadness. In fact, you could even say that the sadness was omnipresent. It was always there, but somehow it has become something in the background. That was the common denominator between them – sorrow. 

But the sorrow I felt with the both of them were different, but still in the sense, the same. Both were the comforts of familiarity. With Ferran, the sadness felt like the weight of a heavy, warm sweater wrapped around my shoulders, pressing against my chest. But with Momo, the sadness felt like the lull of traffic as I sat by myself on my balcony smoking a cigarette. Never really there until the sadness begins to creep up on me, after I let my thoughts wander. But there was a certain comfort in that sadness, for both cases.

Momo was the one who invited Ferran to our room. He told me he was going to have a smoke outside in the street, but when he came back together with Ferran as well, I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. I looked at Ferran. The boy had changed into a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, out of his wine-stained white turtleneck.

We all just hung out on the bed – all three of us. I mean, where else was there to be honest? An uneasy mixture of comfort and awkwardness lingered in the air. I just lay there, staring at the empty ceiling, with Ferran between me and Momo.

"About earlier," Momo said, breaking the silence. "The bird – why'd you bury it?"

I turned to look at Ferran. He stared blankly at the ceiling, a palm softly resting on his chest as it rose and fell with every breath.

"Because I can't just leave it like that," the boy finally said, turning to face Momo. "Sometimes I think to myself what if I die, all by myself, and I had no one looking for me. Or even if I did have people looking for me, what makes you think it's a given that they'd find me? I think about how if they couldn't find me, would they keep on looking or would they simply just give up?"

"I don't really think about things like that," I muttered, trying to interject.

"I do." Momo cut in.

"Really?" Ferran asked.

"Yeah," Momo muttered. "It's natural to think about things like that. Wherever you go death just happens to be there - it's inescapable really."

It's strange to hear him talk about death like that. Whenever our conversations touch that topic it had always been in the framing of moving on from it. About how he picked up the pieces. But I suppose sometimes, you just have to talk about death for what it is.

"I think so too." Ferran said, before pausing for a while.

I noticed the boy shifting towards Momo, inching closer towards him.

"Maybe I'm in love with the concept of death," Ferran muttered.

"And death follows me everywhere," Momo said, chuckling slightly at the end.

There was a brief silence , and I could see Ferran's back towards me. His shoulders seemed relaxed as he lay there, facing Momo.

"You have really pretty eyes," I heard Momo utter under his breath, his voice barely a whisper.

Ferran said nothing. I couldn't even tell how he reacted to Momo's advances. As I lay there, with the both of them practically ignoring me, I could only watch as Momo placed his hand on Ferran's waist. If I was being honest, I had completely anticipated this ever since Ferran brushed off the cat fur from Momo's sweater earlier. The way they looked at each other was unmistakably that of intense attraction – and I felt completely helpless against it. It was almost as if I wasn't even there.

I turned around and closed my eyes, trying to take my mind off what I just saw. I thought about the calming stream, the ephemeral petals of the almond blossoms, and the sounds of pebbles skipping on the water. I thought about the white limestone cliffs, the crystal clear lagoons, and the breeze in my hair as I raced down the coastal path. I thought about the warm, golden rays of the sun basking a sea of vineyards in its light. I thought about the ache in my thighs after a long day of riding my bike on winding country roads.

But that couldn't drown out the sounds and the movement on my bed. It was just rustling at first, but then came the unmistakable wet sound of kisses. Before long, soft moans pierced the air, as the bed began to rock.

My heart thumped in my chest – it was certainly a strange experience. I could put a stop to it, I could tell Momo to stop and for Ferran to leave, but I didn't. Instead, I just lay there, my back facing them as they made out with each other. It was only when I felt an elbow against me did I finally turn around.

The two of them were entangled in each other's arms, with nothing on but their underwear. Momo swooped over the younger boy, his lips planting kisses on Ferran's pale neck as his hand supported the boy from below. There was a certain violence in how Momo clasped at his jugular, almost like a predator going in for the kill. They looked like they were the sinners locked in eternal combat from Dante and Virgil, duelling with their lips, tongues and hands.

And Momo's eyes were looking directly at me. They were filled with strong emotion – Passion? Anger? Lust? In that brief moment when our gazes locked I couldn't tell. But it left me with such a bad taste in my mouth. Yet at the same time, it intrigued me.

I wondered – what was he trying to do? Was it a challenge, or an invitation? But seeing them like that, entangled in each other's arms, I couldn't help but give in to my desires. Hearing the soft moans and the sound of wet lips for the past few minutes had indeed stirred something inside me, and my boner wasn't lying.

Hasn't this been what I've secretly wanted all along? And now that it was finally happening in front of my eyes I wasn't going to let the chance slip away.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath as I slipped out of my shirt. "You're trying to kill me."

I nearly pried Momo off Ferran as my lips went for his neck, holding him close to me as I felt him fall into my arms. My hands ran down his smooth back as I landed a trail of kisses along his collarbone. Hearing his soft moan drove me even further in my frenzy, swooping down as I sucked on his nipples.

It had been a while since I've ever done something like that with him – holding his body close to me, his smooth skin brushing against my fingers. I felt his hands slip underneath my sweatpants, grabbing onto my erection. Feeling myself getting even harder in his warm hand, I pulled down my pants. Almost as if he read my mind, or perhaps because he's been wanting to do it for a while – Momo immediately went down on all fours, planting kisses down my length as he looked up at me with those hazel eyes of his. There was a sparkle of glee in him, almost like he had just opened a present on Christmas morning. Soon, his lips wrapped around me as he pleasured me with his mouth.

I grabbed onto Momo's rough hair, yanking it as I thrusted further into his throat. Ferran, who had been lying there beneath Momo was roped into the fun too – my hands creeping up his thighs, working its way to the erection threatening to burst out of his boxers.

"You know," I muttered under my heavy breath. "There's more than enough of me to go around."

Almost hesitantly, Ferran got up, crawling right beside Momo, their faces next to one another. I've never been more turned on in my life – I felt like I could go on like this forever.

Ferran was much more gentle and delicate, just like he usually was. I loved seeing his angelic face and his pretty lashes, with his mouth wide open taking me whole. I closed my eyes as I surrendered myself to the sensation – truth be told, it didn't matter who did it. The overwhelming pleasure was still the same.

Pulling out, I bent down, lifting his chin up as I pressed my lips against his. The sweet taste of wine and strawberries still lingered in his pretty mouth as I savoured the feeling of his soft curls against my fingers. All of this while Momo ran his fingers down my chest, leaning in to plant kisses on my neck.

I just surrendered myself to the sensation of skin brushing against skin, of sweat dripping down my chest, of soft moans filling the air. I found myself pushing against Ferran, staring into the familiar arctic cold of his eyes as he lay beneath me, his chest rising up and down – almost in a frenzied exasperation. His lips slightly parted, his hair tousled, his pale cheeks flushed red. Yet despite all this, he still maintained that angelic aura of pure, untouched innocence. It was as if nothing could ever tarnish him. And I'd make sure nothing ever will.

The familiar soft moan came out of his lips as I entered him, feeling his warmth squeezing around me. I cradled his beautiful face with my hands, making him look at me – and only me. As I thrust into him, I wondered; was I the only object of his desire? As my lips met his and my tongue delved deep inside his mouth, I thought about how I wanted him to love me, and only me.

I felt Momo behind me, feeling me up, his hands rubbing me everywhere. I let out a moan as I felt his finger circle around my entrance, before plunging deep inside me. I turned around and gave him a nod, and he positioned himself, as I prepared myself for what was to come.

"Oh, fuck!" I moaned, as Momo pushed himself inside me, with every thrust he made pushing me deeper into Ferran.

I gave myself up to ecstasy, carried away by the river of pleasure I had fantasised of for so long. Getting stimulated on both ends, I had to stop myself many times from busting my load too quickly. But the sensations soon overwhelmed me – Momo's firm grip on my hip, Ferran's soft grunts, the drips of sweat falling down my chest. Everything I did just sent more waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I was trapped between them, and I loved every second of it. As suffocating as it was, as helpless as I was, I savoured every moment of it. I felt like I could do that forever.

I didn't know how long we were like that. Time seemed to pass slowly yet was gone in a flash of an eye. As I soared higher and higher, I finally reached my limit, the sensation of unmatched pleasure sending shockwaves through my body, from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes. I let out a loud moan, ejaculating into the sweet, angelic boy just as Momo thrusted deep into me.

But Momo wasn't done with me yet. He kept on thrusting into me, faster and faster as I felt my body slowly getting tired and limp, most of my energy having been spent on our intense lovemaking. Momo hugged and squeezed me, but I found myself staring into dead eyes of Ferran, who seemed to have shut himself out from everything just like I had. He seemed to have slipped into that dreamy state, that I was all too familiar with. I could only let out a gasp as Momo reached his climax, unloading deep inside me.

But with every high comes a crash, and once Momo let go of me, and uneasy, oppressive silence filled the room. A room just moments ago was filled with the moans of pleasure. I collapsed onto the bed, falling onto Ferran. But both of us remained still and unmoving, even with my head on his chest. I found myself staring into the mirror on the wall beside us, and I caught sight of Momo standing at the window, still stark naked, staring outside looking at nothing in particular.

Maybe we all knew then that we ought not to have done what we did. That those two worlds should've been kept distinct and separate. And now that those two worlds of mine have been consummated, we all noticed their tendrils encircling and getting entangled – suffocating all that was trapped between them. It was a slow, excruciating death, the air being squeezed out of you as the tendrils tighten their grip.

Just as Icarus flew too close to the sun and descended majestically through the roofs of the heavens down to earth, I too felt that I had gone too far. A sense of dread crept up on me, a persistent whispering of the impending doom. The silence of the room made the voices all the more deafening.

Perhaps all this while I had known that this would catch up with me eventually, I just didn't know how graceful the descent would be. And for the first time in a long while, I felt afraid.