BACK TO THE 40s - CORNELIUS

Physical Appearance — Cornelius Age: 34 years old Height: 1.82 m Weight: 81 kg Sexuality: Gay (not out)

Body build: Muscular and defined, without exaggeration Cornelius has a well-maintained body, shaped more by discipline and physical work than by vanity. His musculature is defined and functional, with firm shoulders, strong arms, and a broad chest, but without excessive bulk. His abdomen is firm and discreet, typical of someone active, healthy, and resilient, consistent with the era of rationing and constant effort.

His face is masculine and striking, with a well-defined jawline, straight nose, and hard features softened only by maturity. His expression is usually serious or restrained, rarely completely relaxed, conveying a sense of reserve and self-control. When he smiles — which is not frequent — there is something subtle and almost melancholic behind it.

His eyes are attentive and deep, carrying a silent intensity. His gaze observes more than it reveals, keeping emotions and desires well guarded. There is a discreet firmness about them, mixed with something unspoken, especially noticeable in moments of intimacy or tension. The hair is short, neatly trimmed, styled in a simple and functional way, common to men of the 1940s. It may have slight waves or be slightly stiff to the touch, always carefully maintained, but without excessive styling. He usually has a clean-shaven face or, at most, a light shading, reinforcing a clean and respectable image. The hands are large and strong, with long fingers and subtle marks of work—light calluses, visible veins. The posture is erect and restrained, reflecting discipline and strict upbringing. He occupies space naturally, without ostentation, conveying solidity and reliability. Overall, Cornelius has a virile, discreet, and elegant appearance, perfectly aligned with the masculine ideal of the time. His sexuality is not visible in gestures or mannerisms; everything about him is contained, controlled, and silent—which makes his prolonged gazes and rare moments of vulnerability even more significant.

Cornelius is a man of few words and a heavy presence. As an aspiring journalist, he spends most of his days secluded in his office, surrounded by papers, notes, and drafts that rarely find a voice outside the pages. Writing is the only space where he allows himself to fully exist. He prefers to observe from a distance, record facts, and analyze people without needing to get directly involved with them. His shyness is not fragile or hesitant—it is rigid, almost intimidating. He doesn't shrink; he closes himself off. And this closure creates a cold aura, difficult to penetrate.

Physically strong and disciplined, Cornelius contrasts with the stereotype of the withdrawn man. His posture is firm, his body occupies space naturally, and his serious gaze rarely wavers. When someone tries to start a conversation, he responds briefly and objectively, always maintaining an invisible barrier between himself and the other person. He doesn't show nervousness; he shows control. This constant silence can be more frightening than any open aggression. The past has shaped this behavior. While still young, after being seen kissing another boy in the neighborhood, he was harshly confronted by his parents. The reprimand wasn't just verbal—it was a rupture. Cornelius ran away from home shortly afterward, going to the countryside, where he rebuilt his life under a carefully concealed identity. Since then, he has never spoken openly about his sexuality. Silence became protection, and repression, a form of survival.

Even reclusive, he is not incapable of intimacy. When he establishes some kind of trust—something rare and gradual—Cornelius becomes more accessible, less rigid. He talks more, observes less, and allows small gestures of closeness. Still, he avoids any label or direct confession. The fear of being exposed, judged, or persecuted again is constant, always present in the back of his mind, guiding his choices and boundaries. Despite this restraint, his desires never disappeared. They exist silently and persistently, manifesting themselves in thoughts he would never put on paper. Malicious fantasies arise in moments of solitude, fueled by lingering glances, by encounters that are too brief, by men who pass too close. Cornelius doesn't act impulsively—he imagines, represses, controls. But the desire is there, latent, pressing against the discipline he has built.

This constant tension between who he is, who he pretends to be, and who he wants to be makes Cornelius a dense man, silently intense. Cold on the outside, restless on the inside. A man who writes about the world, but deeply fears being read by it.

Remember: being gay at that time (1943) was dangerous. Gays were persecuted and killed.