[And Newton, the Newt of memory, can almost but not quite feel that love--and instead feels it along with or as his own love and affection and misses the parts that are distinctly Hermann--understands the love to exist, nebulously, but never with a concrete affirmation.
But Newt now knows this moment where Hermann knows that this is love, while wrapped in an embrace with this Newton--Newton, who has known since at least late November, maybe had inklings before, that HE loves Hermann. Under the glittering skyline of Hong Kong, Hermann is in love in the way Newt had been under those twinkling Christmas lights. This is his revelation, his epiphany... not that he didn't love Newt or wasn't in love with him before, but the words now are definitive--he has actually labeled this feeling and filed and cataloged it. It is certain, without a doubt, in the way Hermann is certain of his numbers.
And everything is beautiful. Newt is absolutely certain Hong Kong was never as beautiful in real life as it is now in Hermann's memory. Even the noise of traffic seems melodious. The lights catch on Newton's own glasses and HE has never looked so good, his eyes never quite that that pretty as they are now, as if illuminated from within.
Newt has never seen himself as he is when loved by someone. He has never done anything for Hermann, never anything in his LIFE, to deserve this.
Newton thanks him (for saving his life, for Drifting with him, for loving him and tolerating him and standing by him...all those things and everything at once) and then, in lieu of saying 'I love you' himself, offers action instead. Action has always worked better for Newt, and in retrospect, he thinks it was the right offer of action: symbolizing love, trust, and togetherness...not quite a Drift, but still intimate and symbolic. And he had just really wanted to, wanted to extend this evening, to celebrate, to hold onto this giddy excitement and not squash it under decorous behavior of sitting for a nice dinner.]
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But Newt now knows this moment where Hermann knows that this is love, while wrapped in an embrace with this Newton--Newton, who has known since at least late November, maybe had inklings before, that HE loves Hermann. Under the glittering skyline of Hong Kong, Hermann is in love in the way Newt had been under those twinkling Christmas lights. This is his revelation, his epiphany... not that he didn't love Newt or wasn't in love with him before, but the words now are definitive--he has actually labeled this feeling and filed and cataloged it. It is certain, without a doubt, in the way Hermann is certain of his numbers.
And everything is beautiful. Newt is absolutely certain Hong Kong was never as beautiful in real life as it is now in Hermann's memory. Even the noise of traffic seems melodious. The lights catch on Newton's own glasses and HE has never looked so good, his eyes never quite that that pretty as they are now, as if illuminated from within.
Newt has never seen himself as he is when loved by someone.
He has never done anything for Hermann, never anything in his LIFE, to deserve this.
Newton thanks him (for saving his life, for Drifting with him, for loving him and tolerating him and standing by him...all those things and everything at once) and then, in lieu of saying 'I love you' himself, offers action instead. Action has always worked better for Newt, and in retrospect, he thinks it was the right offer of action: symbolizing love, trust, and togetherness...not quite a Drift, but still intimate and symbolic. And he had just really wanted to, wanted to extend this evening, to celebrate, to hold onto this giddy excitement and not squash it under decorous behavior of sitting for a nice dinner.]
May I take you dancing?