‘I often picture Connor and I on a practice hunt in Davenport after pestering him about it for weeks. Teaching me to correctly handle a bow, he positions himself close behind me to fix my posture and I cheekily grind against him. Instead of reacting uncomfortably, we spend the rest of the day together, exploring one another’s anatomy until deep into the night—where we make rough, passionate love like wild animals in the warmth of a campfire—before the tender beating of his heart sends me to sleep.’