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„Why are we two actually still together?“

“Because we are both crappy.”

Tahir shot the other a grumpy look but got an amused smile in return. It was 2 am and they sat in the Hyde Park. It was still warm, British summers were a pain in the arse, no matter what kind of weather. It had been unbearable hot and humid lately, so the temperatures at night were a wonderful relieve.

“Then we should change that, shouldn’t we” the Pakistani-Brit said, head on Robert’s shoulder. The other Londoner leant his own head on his shortly, cheek against messy black hair.

“Probably. I mean, as long as we get along, we don’t have to worry. You’re a bitch, I’m an arsehole, everything’s fine.”

“But we could try, you know.”

“Yes, we.”

“I am not going to ask you to only change stuff about yourself, Robert. We are both jerks to each other.”

“Agreed. Tell me when I am a giant douche again and I’ll try.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Robert got a pack of cigarettes out of his pockets and Tahir’s eyes wandered upwards again:

“For a start, you could quit smoking.”

The other laughed, lighting a cigarette: “Oh no, no no, pretty boy, that’s no part of the deal.”