It is in the sea of people, of communication, of laughter, of happiness, of life on the warm sunny summer day that Antonio sees you through the crowd of hair and barrettes and hats, sitting with Arthur on a street cafe on the sidewalk he is walking on to work from lunch break.
He watches, as he walks through the bobbing wave of heads, as you smile and blush, darting eyes away coyly as Arthur, who is blushing furiously, leans across the small circular table to kiss your cheek.
A hand fumbles to his pocket, pulling out a thin phone, and unlocks it without glancing down as he refuses to tear his eyes from you and Arthur, who are giggling like two children who don't know any better, and then, finally, glances down to read the most recent text from you, not sent two minutes ago.
Yeah, I'm at home. See you soon! <3
And it is with a sinking feeling in his stomach that Antonio looks back up to the two of you and, in the crowd of hustle and bustle, in people laughing and chatting and gossiping and in the crowd of life, that he feels as if he is the loneliest man in the world.