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Excellent, he then thought, I have apparently inherited only the bad characteristics of my parents. That really is just typical!
If one of the attacks has a hold of him, then the Udo, which he shows towards the outside, is no longer recognizable. All his strength, his might and his determination are as if they were blown away. Instead his otherwise so radiatingly green eves glaze over with a glassy film, and he seems like a small child, lost and helpless against the pains. Vulnerable.
In the course of time he has learned to pay attention to the symptoms and to keep the pains as few as possible. As soon as he notices even the slightest pressure in his head, he takes an aspirin, brews himself a strong cup of coffee and does some sort of menial work like cleaning or vacuuming. In the initial stages of a migraine attack that sometimes still helps, he has observed. But he usually doesn´t notice the beginning of the migraine attacks until the second stage, when it makes no more sense to take pills because they can´t switch off the pain anymore. The only thing he can still try then is at least to prevent the sickness and the vomiting. He lies down on the bed in the bedroom, closes his eyes and breathes slowly and deeply, until his breathing rate resembles that of someone sleeping. He can then see the pains approaching him from far off. They roll over him like a tidal wave which smashes over his head and its current whirls him helplessly around. In his thoughts Udo then sees himself standing in the sea while the tide rushes towards him. And as with a real tidal wave Udo has learned that it is better to show the waves of pain no resistance, to give in to the roaring in his head, to let the waves roll over him and leave him behind. Recently the intensity of the pain has gained and he can measure its intensity from what colour the wave has which rolls over him in his imagination . The lighter the colour, the greater the pain. During the last attack the prevailing colour was green, and the pains were not all that strong also, but this time the whipped-up waves have a dark violet colour, and they leave Udo hanging helplessly wheezing and breathless over the toilet bowl. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that he has no possibility to lie down here, to prepare himself inwardly for the coming pains and to concentrate. The distractions are too large. There is the hum of the engines, the bright lights and the crampedness in the toilet, the concerned, impatient knock of the stewardess on the door.
Awkwardly and still with shooting pains above his eyes Udo gets himself up off the floor, rinses his mouth at the sink and lets some water run over his face. Then he opens the door and smiles tormentedly at the stewardess, which is supposed to signal to her that he can manage on his own. Slowly and with uncertain steps he goes back to his seat in the middle of the airplane.
Sometimes Udo has the suspicion that his migraine attacks crop up directly when he has psychological stress. He can still remember well when the first attack came. Then, as Bjorn - my God, how many years ago was that now? - lay dying and could not even speak anymore because the virus had attacked his speech center, he had been there day and night only for him, week for week, until he had thought he would end up running against the wall screaming. It had been so bad, that he had secretly wished that Bjorn would die more quickly, if only to get it all over with - the waiting, the strain and the hopelessness. And then this headache hit him one afternoon out of the blue, penetrated like a flash of lightning behind his eyes, and he almost blacked out. Luckily, Nane was also in the apartment, and she had taken over Bjorns care for the rest of the day while he, crippled with pain, was fully incapable to even move his head.
Since then he could not get rid of the migraines. Again and again they appeared sporadically after that, sometimes more, sometimes less, until he got used to them and had almost learned to expect them in stressful situations, for example, if he had problems at work or, more and more often in the last few months, if he and Wulf had a row, going through one of their usual crises.
Exactly, Udo thinks, if we had not argued this morning before taking off, I perhaps would have been spared the migraine attacks this time.
Ponderously he slumps in his seat and looks at his boyfriend sitting in the seat beside him. For a moment Udo cannot remember anymore what they argued about that morning. Yes, he can. It was all about Udo´s wanting to pack four books for the holiday, and Wulf accused him that it would indirectly signalize to Christof and Ingo, with whom they were sharing the apartment in Sitges, that he didn´t really want to have anything to do with them during the holiday. The quarrel had gone then so far that Wulf had assumed that he, Udo, would anyhow most prefer going on holiday completely alone, not even with Wulf, and in the end full of anger Udo had unpacked two of the four books again and left them at home. And now the migraine attacks were there.
As Udo tries to stretch out his legs under the narrow seat, Wulf startles from the conversation which he was having with Christof.
"Well", he says, "is it time again?"
Udo nods wearily. "I´ll try to get a little bit of sleep", he says and closes his eyes. He suppresses the feeling he´s been getting a lot recently that his boyfriend has been reacting towards him more and more indifferently.
Wulf nods shrugging his shoulders and turns back to Christof again.
At the time when they met a good one and a half years ago everything had been completely different. Udo, up until this point still a German teacher in Paris, had visited Nane, who, after she didn´t like Hamburg anymore, had gone back to Cologne. It had been an extended visit, Udo had taken the largest part of his annual leave and killed time rediscovering places and streets, which he had not seen since moving to Paris. For hours in the afternoon he walked through the city, always right at the edge of sentimentality, let the cool wind of the beginning of autumn blow around his head and wondered, whether he would once more be in a position to live here, or whether the city would always be tied up with Bjorn´s memory. At some point, without wanting to, he had suddenly found himself once more in front of the house, in which he and Bjorn had lived together, looked up to the window, behind which Bjorn had died, and bust into tears. But not, as he realised to his own surprise, because he could not stand the memories, but because the sight of the window, behind which a such important part of his life had taken place, left behind no more than a dull, vague sadness in the pit of his stomach, and because of the certainty that this part of his life already lay far behind him.
On the way back to Nane´s apartment he had gone towards the tram, and at the tram stop on the opposite side he had discovered Wulf. Tall, with short strawberry-blonde hair and a lumberjack shirt, Wulf stood engrossed in a newspaper in a corner of the tram station, oblivious to the noise and the hectic around him altogether. For minutes Udo had observed him, unable to tear his glance away altogether and had let the tram, which he wanted to go on, depart repeatedly. At some point Wulf had noticed that he was being observed, he looked around uncertainly and then discovered Udo. He had raised his eyebrows and thrown him a short smile. Then he tried to read his newspaper once more, but again and again his eyes were drawn in Udo´s direction , as if to ensure that Udo was still standing there watching him. At some time, it seemed to Udo like a small eternity, Wulf folded his newspaper together, glanced over to Udo and gestured to him with a nodding of the head to leave the tram station with him together. And Udo ran behind him like a schoolboy. At the exit they had considered shyly, whether they should drink a coffee together, but then the magnetism between them both was all at once so great that they found themselves half an hour later in bed in Wulf´s apartment.
After that everything happened relatively quickly. For the first months Udo and Wulf had visited each other almost every weekend. Either Wulf had driven to Paris, or Udo had visited him in Germany, and both soon noticed that between them was more than just mutual sympathy. After just a short time they became conscious of the fact that a long-distance relationship would not suffice, and when Udo purely by chance at this point in time got offered a job in his home town as interpreter for French and Spanish at a local governmental office both decided to go the whole hog and to move in with each other. Udo was of course aware of the fact that he was taking a rather large risk if he lived in an apartment with a man who he had hardly known for three months, but that didn´t matter to him then, he was so caught up in the feeling finally to have fallen in love and to be loved.
That was perhaps also the reason why Udo did not take the difficulties which he and Wulf were soon to have so seriously. Besides there were so many things which distracted him from the condition of their relationship. First, he had to get used to his new job and to the fact that very many business trips were also part of this new profession and frequently he was not at home at all for part of the week. Besides all of that, again and again new things had to be bought for the apartment and there were discussions about what colour the bathroom tiles should be, whether a thousand pounds are too much for a sofa or not, how large a wardrobe had to be so that they both had space for their things. Also the shift to a new circle of friends distracted Udo from the state of his relationship. There were not many of his old friends left in Cologne and Udo was only close with Nane, therefore he tried to integrate himself into Wulf´s circle of friends, where he was quickly successful. He got on especially well with Ingo, an old schoolmate of Wulf, while Christof, Wulf´s best friend, was a little too arrogant for Udo´s taste.
But at some time or other Udo noticed that his migraine attacks, which had almost fully disappeared at the beginning of the relationship with Wulf, were clearly increasing again, and between each attack the space in which he had no pain was becoming shorter. From there it was only a small step until Udo understood that his recurring headaches had directly to do with his discontentment in his relationship with Wulf. This became completely clear to him as he lay one afternoon on the sofa in the living room with a cool washcloth on his forehead and tried to fight off a pending attack. When Wulf came home from work and found Udo lying there, he could only manage a cold 'Oh no, not again!' and then went into the bedroom to get his sport kit because he had to go to aerobics half an hour later. After ten minutes he had left the apartment with a quick 'Bye' in Udo´s direction. Udo had had the feeling he had been slapped in the face, and shortly afterwards a migraine attack had come on, the intensity of which Udo had not experienced for a long time.
Udo began to observe himself and Wulf more closely, to find more things which disturbed him with their relationship and particularly with Wulf. There was Wulf´s clumsiness and unwillingness if Udo wanted to cuddle, the indifference with which he reacted to Udo´s problems with the changes in the new job, the chaos which Udo found in the apartment if he had been on a business trip for a few days, but above all Wulf´s inability to take any notice of Udo´s criticism.
Once Udo, rather annoyed, had held it against Wulf that the bathroom look like a pigsty, and that for once he might lower himself to clean the toilet.
" You know what", Wulf had answered stroppily, "I don´t have any problems with the bathroom. If it is too dirty for you, then that´s your problem." With this he turned his attention back to the porno film which he had borrowed from the sex shop, and Udo felt as if he was talking to a brick wall.
Since then there were moments when Udo wondered whether he would once more give up his life in Paris for Wulf if he had the choice, and sometimes he was not sure of his answer. And that frightened him, for on the other hand he also knew that he loved Wulf and did not want not to miss him as part of his life. Nobody else was in a position to give him this feeling of belonging, of security. Nobody else could make Udo laugh at such small things like Wulf could, with nobody else was it possible to let himself be carried away by daydreams and phantasies about plans for the future like with Wulf. Udo enjoyed remembering the afternoons when they lay on their balcony, each sipping a Martini while the sun beat down on their stomachs, and daydreamed about holidays on a small uninhabited desert island with palm trees and with men from the Bounty advert, about the life in a really expensive penthouse with a gigantic roof-top garden in the inner city and about a night with Jeff Stryker or Al Parker.
But hardly anything of that had remained in their relationship in the meantime. Instead it had become a rule that they would shout at each other, avoid each other or each one would simply just annoy the other. An ever growing indifference had taken the place of any initial intimacy they had shared. Their concilliations became rarer and rarer and lasted little more than one to two weeks.
Besides all of that, Wulf spent less and less time in their apartment, was often away for hours without Udo knowing where he was, and when he came home could only come up with vague excuses which could have meant everything and nothing. Initially Udo did not find this new development all that important, had not noticed just how rarely Wulf was at home because of his own frequent job-related absence. Just recently it had struck him, however, and now he did not know what he should think. Udo could or did not want to see the logical explanation for Wulfs´s behaviour.
The next morning Udo wakes up as the sun shines through the panes of glass onto his face and tickles his nose. It is hot in the room. The sheet Udo is lying on sticks to his body. The door to the balcony is closed accumulating the heat in the room. Although it is already the middle of September, the summer has not yet retreated from the north coast of Spain. Udos migraine has disappeared. Everything that has been left behind is a dull feeling in the back of his head. But that too, as Udo knows from experience, will go away once he has eaten something.
He looks around the room he is lying in, and slowly the memory of the day before comes back again, even though it is indistinct like through a veil. He can remember that they had to travel quite a while by train after the plane landed and then at the station they got a taxi which brought them to the apartments where they would be staying. But Udo has no idea how he managed the individual stages of the journey, or what happened after he had arrived at the apartment. The only thing he can remember is that he stood throwing up on some corner in front of Sitges station in the expectation that at any moment his skull would burst. And he remembers that Wulf dragged not only his own but also Udo´s luggage up the staircase to their apartment, swearing all the way. Everything else is gone.
Udo looks at his watch. Almost eleven o´clock. He must have slept more than fifteen hours straight through. Amazed he raises his eyebrows. Then he carefully lifts his head, turns it slowly once to the left and once to the right. Nothing. The pains are gone. Udo breathes a sigh of relief.
The space beside him in bed is rumpled up and empty. Wulf appears to already have got up. Udo hears the rustling of a newspaper outside on the terrace. Quickly he swings himself up from the bed and grabs the next best pair of Bermuda shorts he can get his hands on from the suitcase which is lying in front of him on the floor. Then he opens the French windows and goes outside.
Ingo is sitting at a large round table where the rest of breakfast is lying around, his legs up on a chair, sipping a coffee and thumbing through a newspaper.
"Morning", Udo says and sits in one of the empty chairs which are standing around the table.
"Morning", Ingo says and looks over to Udo. "Welcome on holiday."
Udo smiles and pours himself a coffee.
"Well", Ingo says, "Are you feeling better?"
Udo nods. "Yes. Everything okay again. The pains have gone." he helps himself to a croissant and starts spreading it with butter. "Bring me up to date. I didn´t catch anything at all cos´of the headaches yesterday."
"It was rather a hefty attack?!", says Ingo.
Udo shrugs his shoulders and bites into his croissant. "Where are the others?" he then asks with his mouth full.
"Already on the beach", Ingo answers. "They wanted to make sure they´d get the best places and couldn´t wait anymore."
"Hm", Udo says. "Wulf could have at least tried to wake me." he pauses shortly and then chews further. "Where are Christof and you sleeping?"
"I have the small room directly in front of your room", says Ingo, "and Christof has the third bedroom here on the other side of the balcony." He points vaguely with his head to the second French window, which leads from the terrace into the apartment. "It´s actually really nice, the apartment. Although I have not yet found out how to use the boiler to get hot water."
"Well yes", Udo says and wipes the sweat off his forehead, "We will hardly need all that much hot water with this heat." He remains quiet for a while and devotes his attention to his breakfast, while Ingo engrosses himself in his newspaper again. "How did I actually get here?", Udo then asks.
" Do you really not know that anymore?", asks Ingo astonishedly.
Udo shakes his head. "I had quite a blackout."
"After you apparently puked your lungs up on the plane, you slept for the remainder of the flight", says Ingo. "Wulf shook you a couple of times, but we really weren´t able to wake you. It was probably better like that. On the train from Barcelona to Sitges you felt somewhat better again, but at the station in Sitges you threw up once more." Udo nods. " Yes", he says, "I can remember that."
"When we got here", continues Ingo, "Wulf carried your luggage up, and Christof and I more or less carried you up here, too. Then you were tipped into bed and were immediately off again."
"Oh", Udo murmurs. "Thanks."
Ingo gestures with his hand. "It´s okay. Yes, and while you were sleeping last night, I made a couple of purchases for breakfast today, and Christof and Wulf went off in the scene."
"And you didn´t go out anymore?"
"No", says Ingo. "I was too tired. Besides we are here for two more weeks. The girlies in the scene won´t run away."
Udo is silent for a moment. "Was Wulf very mad?", he then asks.
Ingo looks at him sharply. "Why do you ask?"
"Now come on!" Udo says frowning. "It is rather obvious that our relationship at the moment is not going very well?"
"Well yes", Ingo has to admit, "it does notice, but on the other hand it has got nothing to do with me. Do you want to talk about it?"
Udo sighs. "No. Not really at the moment. It sometimes seems as if..." he interrupts himself in the middle of the sentence and stares out over the balcony from where the view reaches out over the promenade and the beach towards the open sea. The sea is rather restless, and Udo watches how the waves up as far as the horizon form white frothing peaks and afterwards subside again . "Anyway", he then says. "Was Wulf angry or not?"
Ingo shakes the head. " No", he says reassuringly. "Wulf was really in quite a good mood last night. Christof and him set off arm in arm. Don´t worry. Everything will be alright again while on holiday. Perhaps you just simply need time for each other again."
"Yes, perhaps", says Udo.
Ingo gets up and begins to clear the breakfast table. "Listen" he says by the by, "Can it be that you have put on weight? The jeans I took off you last night were so tight that I hardly got them off."
Udo hesitates. "Ah, you took them off me?", he then says astonished. "I thought it was Wulf..."
"No", says Ingo, "He had long since gone off with Christof. But I could not leave you lying there in your clothes. Bad? You slept so deeply that you didn´t notice a thing."
" It´s okay", says Udo absently. "Thanks."
Just like during the last few days, on this day too, the sea is rather restless again. For the first time since the holiday began the sun isn´t shining today. Udo stands on the beach and observes the waves which loom up man-high on the shore, producing white foaming crowns, before collapsing together with a deafening noise again and washing the sand over the beach with great speed. It is windy and because of the restless seas the coast guard has hoisted red flags on the moles, which means that today bathing in the sea is forbidden. In the morning it even rained and even now here and there thick heavy drops, which leave behind an irregular pattern in the wet sand, are still falling. Because of the bad weather the beach is deserted. Udo is one of the few people who have come to the sea at all today. Now and then couples walk past him, hand in hand or in search of shells which the waves washed onto the shore. Udo is alone. Ingo preferred to go on the lookout for men in one of the diverse gay cafés in the old town, and Wulf did not want to come when Udo proposed to go for a walk on the beach. Christof said nothing at all.
Something has changed. Udo is not sure what, but he feels that a decision has been made. And it occurs to him that he is not the one who made a decision, but Wulf.
Udo stands on the sand, exactly on the spot where the last offshoots of water wash around his bare feet, and observes how he sinks millimeter for millimeter more deeply into the ooze with each wave. The ground under him is soft and gives way. Even after a short time his feet are fully covered by the ooze. In his childhood when he would come to the seaside with his parents every year, he would always stand on the beach like this when his mother scolded him. Exactly like now he would observe how his feet slowly sank into the sand, and would wait for the moment when his whole body would be devoured by the ooze. But the sand never came further than above his ankles.
Udo tips his head back and tries to catch a couple of rain drops with his tongue. Above him the wind whips up dark rain clouds, and the sky has taken on a grey colour. The weather appears to be getting even worse.
The feeling that Wulf has already decided against him gets stronger and stronger. Now that they haven´t had any sex for weeks, touching each other hardly ever happens anymore. Wulf wasn´t one for cuddling even before. But now ... like two strangers who don´t have anything to say to each other. It is not as if they argue more - this phase appears to be over since the beginning of the holiday. Instead Wulf just goes out of Udo´s way, hardly ever undertakes anything together with him, avoids being alone with him in a room, and if it does happen, however, a tense atmosphere hangs in the air, and Udo does not dare to say something because he knows exactly that Wulf would take it the wrong way. Therefore he prefers to say nothing at all, takes cover behind his books and pretends everything is alright. But he has no idea what he is reading really, does not get further, has read the same page at least ten times already without even understanding a single sentence.
Wulf prefers to spend his time with Christof. Altogether both of them seem to be inseparable. They go to the bars together and they go to the beach together without asking Ingo or Udo whether they want to come. The day before yesterday Wulf had forgotten `by mistake´to keep Udo a place beside himself free at the overcrowded beach, and Udo had had to look for a free space for himself far apart from his boyfriend. And when Udo spoke to him later on about whether Wulf was keeping up the distance between them intentionally, Wulf just declined and answered aggressively that Udo was imagining things. It is fully normal in a relationship if you are sometimes close and at other times more distant.They were just having a phase with more distance, and whether Udo had something against him, Wulf, enjoying his holiday? But he had not been able to look him in the eyes.
Udo feels excluded and superfluous. And yes, he is jealous. Perhaps Wulf was right after all, perhaps he would have actually prefered to go on holiday alone with Wulf. Perhaps they could then save their relationship once more, perhaps it is already too late, anyway. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...
Udo sighs and looks ahead at the sea. The rain and the wind have become somewhat stronger, both whipping up the waves higher than before, the surf now drowning out the noise of the traffic beyond the promenade. Udo turns around. He is now the only person on the beach, all the others have fled the bad weather. Suddenly Udo strips down to his swimming trunks and puts his things and the towel he brought along onto one of the empty sun loungers which have been chained up a safe distance from the water. Then he goes towards the sea again and with squinted eyes watches the waves rolling in on him. Due to the whirled-up seabed the water has turned a dirty blue-brown colour. Patiently he waits until he can make out a wave, which even in the distance is especially high, while it rolls in on him. Then he dashes off quickly and runs into the sea, reaching the wave exactly at the moment where it goes past its peak. With all of his anger and his frustration Udo throws himself into the wave, to be alone in the world for the split second that the sea tosses him about and to forget everything around him at least for a moment. As the white foaming peaks smash over his head, the force of the turbulent water tears him off his feet, for a moment Udo can get no air and he swallows the salty water. The swirl of the waves tosses him around, without resistance he presents himself to the water. He loses his orientation, no longer knows what is up and what is down. Wildly he hits out with his hands and feet until he suddenly feels the ground again beneath himself and stretches his head up above the surface of the water gasping for air. White beads of spray pearl down his upper body and tickle his stomach. Then the wave has passed him by and left him behind. Its remaining crests roll out leisurely onto the shore. Trembling Udo gets up and wipes the water from his face with his hands. In his chest he can feel hit his heart beating. Then he turns around looking away from the sea and wades carefully back to the beach.
As Udo goes up the staircase to the apartment he can feel the next headache lurking in his back of the head. Like a wild animal the next attack has already taken up shelter in his head, observing him like unsuspecting prey, ready to attack him at the next favourable chance and to sink its sharp claws and teeth into his body.
Udo lets the door fall closed and goes straight into the kitchen to make some strong coffee. He presses a painkiller from the packaging lying on the refrigerator and swallows it with a glass of water. Still it is perhaps not too late. Still it is possible to drive the attack away, to show it its limits.
While the coffee maker simmers and after a while the filtered black liquid drips drop for drop into the pot, Udo sits down on a chair, supports his face with his hands and tries to organize his thoughts.
Why does he have the feeling that Wulf has long since already decided against him? And if this is so, why doesn´t he tell Udo? And why does he, Udo, let himself be treated that way? Just recently, judging by his own reactions, Udo no longer recognises himself being himself anymore. Earlier was he in the position to independently make decisions, to weigh up what is good for him and what is not and to deal accordingly. Today his ability to endure suffrance seems to be unlimited. In the last weeks and months he has become so remarkably passive, incapable to formulate his own will, even to be altogether clear of what it is he wants. Where have the energy and the self-confidence gone which he had formerly?
The coffee is finally finished and Udo pours himself a cup, makes his way to the bedroom in the hope, by lying on the bed with his eyes closed, of being able to conquer the coming migraine attack somehow. Just like the way he has tried innumerable times before. He cannot do any work to distract him here as he otherwise used to do in the initial stages of a migraine attack, therefore he will try to keep the pains small through peace and quiet and by doing breathing exercises. He steps very carefully and gently in order not to jolt his head unnecessarily, only his breathing breaks the calmness of the apartment. As Udo goes past Christof´s bedroom, he can subconsciously make out soft noises which eminate from behind the locked door. Not until he is almost in his own room does he stand abruptly still and listens more exactly, and believes to be able to filter out the squeaking of a mattress and soft groans. Wulf´s groans. The pain in his back of the head suddenly gets stronger.
And then several things happen simultaneously. Without thinking Udo tears Christof´s bedroom door open and sees Christof lying naked on his bed, his face distorted into an ecstatic grimace. Wulf is kneeling behind him, his hands supported on Christof´s body, thrusting with rhythmic motions, again and again, while indefinable noises escape from his mouth. Wulf's eyes are closed, and Udo can see the effort, the concentration and the lust on his face all at the same time. They both don´t notice Udo until Udo lets the coffee cup, which he has been balancing the whole time in one hand, slip from out of his fingers and smash with a large crash on the floor. The hot coffee forms a steaming puddle on the floor.
At the moment when Udo understands what he can see in front of his own eyes, he cannot defend himself anymore. Like a dull blow with a wooden club the migraine attack hits him. A deep noise suddenly fills up his head, becoming louder and louder, until it ultimately blocks out any noise from outside. While Udo holds onto his head with both hands, he tries to find more hold and slides down the wall on his back until he is sitting on the floor. And then he can see the tidal wave in his head rushing towards him. With the speed of a tiger it pounces on him. It is red, light red, as light as he has ever seen it up to now, and the pains which Udo experiences, as the red tide smashes over him and in his head, are indescribable. The pains tie up his throat and make him struggle desperately for air, and he has the feeling that his skull is going to fly apart. The tide whirls Udo up and down, shakes his whole body, envelops him fully, penetrates into each fiber of his tissue, breaks his resistance until he is fully at the mercy of the pains. Cold sweat flows from his pores, and deep from his body a groan emerges which he cannot control. Helplessly he balances his head in his hands to and fro. He can no longer distinguish whether the foaming spray breaking in his brain will suffocate him or drown him, he loses touch with reality. Then Udo blacks out. As he comes to again he is lying on the bed in his own room. Wulf is sitting beside him on the side of the bed with only his underpants on. Christof is nowhere to be seen at all.
"Good God", Udo murmurs, "what has happened?"
"You blacked out", says Wulf, and Udo can make out concern in his voice. But could he hear something else? A feeling of guilt? A bad conscience? "One of your migraine attacks", adds Wulf. Udo nods and moves his head as carefully as possible, but the attack has passed and has left nothing behind besides great tiredness and a decision. Udo supports himself on his elbows and looks his boyfriend calmly in the face.
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