I woke up to an empty bed. Finding Akira gone, I walked into the kitchen.

There he was — half-naked, wearing an apron, and busy preparing breakfast. In the two years we’ve been together, Akira has never once made breakfast. It was strange.

I walked up and hugged him from behind. I cannot lose you to anyone, Akira.

"I’m sorry about last night," he muttered. "I was exhausted."

"Yes... someone must have drained all your energy."

He didn't reply.

"Sit down. Breakfast is ready." He placed two plates on the table. Japanese curry — an excellent choice for breakfast.

"Aka."

"Hmm?"

"I noticed a lipstick stain on you yesterday."

"I have no idea where that came from."

"And do you have 'no idea' where this came from either?" I pointed to a fresh scratch on his left shoulder.

"Yes! I have no idea!" he shouted.

He slammed his spoon onto the table and stormed up to the bedroom. I ran after him.

He began pulling on a black shirt. I stepped closer. "Aka... I’m sorry. It’s just... well..."

He pulled me into a tight embrace, stroking my hair. "You believe me, don't you?"

"Mhm. I believe you."

He began to kiss me.

"Akira! We're late!"

We left the house. During the entire drive, he never took his eyes off me. When we reached the shop, he got out and hugged me. "I’ll come pick you up this evening." He let me go.

Kaori approached us and brazenly took Akira’s hand. "Morning, Aki!"

"Aki?" I pulled Akira’s hand back toward me. I realized then how terrified I was of losing him. Akira’s cold hands felt like chilled chocolate — the kind that might melt the moment you touch it.

"His name is Akira."

"Sorry, Veyn," Kaori said with a shrug. "I thought we got closer after yesterday."

"And my name is Vayn. Understood?"

"Understood."

Akira hugged me once more. "I have to go."

I kissed Akira deeply right in front of Kaori, lingering until Kaori turned away and walked toward the shop door.

We went inside. Kaori started putting on his apron. "Kao. Come here."

He came over and stood beside me.

"You can do whatever you want here; I’ll allow it," I said, stepping closer. "You can eat as much chocolate as your heart desires. You can joke with me, listen to music — anything. But..." I lowered my voice. "Never look at Akira. He is my husband. Do you hear me? Akira is mine."

"I think you’ve misunderstood me," Kaori replied. "It’s not Akira I want."

"I don't care. When it comes to Akira, I am not Veyn — I am 'Vine.'"

"What’s the difference?"

"You wouldn't understand." No one would. "Why do you wear lipstick?"

"I like having red lips. Who wouldn't want to kiss them?"

We started working, but all day, I couldn't forgive Kaori for touching Akira’s hand.

Akira arrived just as the last customer was leaving. Kaori served the customer while I went to talk to Akira.

"Drink this." I handed him a glass filled with wine. While he enjoyed it, I took off my apron. Kaori finished up.

"Well, I’m off," Kaori said.

"Actually, I suggest the three of us go to dinner," I said, taking Akira’s hand.

"I don't want to be a third wheel," Kaori muttered.

"Relax. It’s dinner, not a bed." Ah, Kao... you don't know Vayn yet.

We went to mine and Akira’s favorite restaurant and immediately ordered wine. After one glass, I ordered a second.

"Vine," Akira whispered, trying to take the glass from my hand.

"Oh, come on, Aka! I’m with you, aren't I?" He gave the glass back, and I sipped the wine while staring at Kaori. I wanted him to feel like an intruder in our lives. Akira was mine.

I rested my head on Akira’s shoulder and spoke up. "You know, Kao? Aka prefers the bold ones in bed."

Kaori started to choke on his drink. He quickly caught his breath.

"And the experienced ones," I added.

"Vine!" Akira placed a hand over my mouth, but I pulled away.

"And he likes them older, too. I’m three years older than him. Good, isn't it?"

"It’s time to go home," Akira said firmly. He stood up and took hold of me. "Sorry, Kaori. It’s time to take Vine home."

"Sure, no problem."

He put me in the car, and I slept the entire way. I only woke up when the brakes screeched at our house. Once inside, I began to kiss him.

"Vine."

I didn't answer. I didn't want to talk. The only thing I knew was that I wanted this man to be mine and mine alone.

"Vine." He lifted my chin, looking into my eyes. Akira has dark eyes — eyes like a midnight sea where you could easily drown.

"Aka... I only want to be yours. Don't leave me, okay? I’ll die without you."

I began to kiss his wine-stained lips as I unbuttoned his shirt. I pushed him onto the sofa and stripped off my own clothes. I knelt before him, kissing the tattoos I loved so much. I climbed into his lap, playing with his hair.

"Aka..."

He picked me up and carried me to the bathroom. Under the hot spray of the shower, I began to lose myself even more. He pressed me against the cold tile wall and kissed me. I clung to him, pulling him closer.

Making love with Akira is like making chocolate. You mix all the ingredients, all the emotions, and every time you end up with something new — bitter, milky, dark, or white.

Eventually, I sank to the floor of the shower, exhausted, and began to cry. He wrapped a towel around me, picked me up, and carried me to the bedroom.

"What’s wrong?"

I pressed myself against his damp skin, unwilling to let go. "Aka... I know. I know I’m useless. I can't do anything. Besides cleaning the house and washing the dishes, I have nothing."

"Hey, hey... Vine." He lifted my head, cupping my cheek. "You are the most perfect man I’ve ever met. You are a brilliant chocolatier. You have your own business. Anyone would dream of being like you. What is this about?"

"I’m thirty-two, Akira. You could have someone much younger."

"I prefer them older. I prefer my Vine."

"When are you going to realize that you don't need me?"

"I do need you."

He lay down and pulled me toward him. Wrapped in the towel, I lay beside him with my head on his chest. He held me, and I realized that overindulging in wine is far more dangerous than overindulging in chocolate.

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