Lucian survived breakfast by announcing that he was late for class and leaving without his backpack.

He returned thirty seconds later to retrieve it. Margaret was still smiling. Sebastian was still infuriatingly composed.

“Have a good day,” Sebastian said.

Lucian pointed at him. “Not one word.”

“I said four.”

“That's worse.”

At university, Lucian avoided his phone. At noon he finally checked it and found a message from Sebastian.

Sebastian: Did you eat lunch?

Lucian: Stop acting normal.

Sebastian: Would you prefer abnormal?

Lucian: I would prefer silence.

Sebastian: Then eat lunch in silence.

Lucian stared at the exchange until Nolan leaned over his shoulder.

“You're smiling at your phone,” Nolan observed.

“No, I'm not.”

“You absolutely are.”

Lucian turned the screen facedown. “I have a problem.”

“A Sebastian-shaped problem?”

Lucian groaned. Nolan laughed so hard that a student at the next table shushed him.

By Friday evening, Lucian's nerves were shredded. He liked Sebastian. He was fairly certain Sebastian liked him. The problem was that Sebastian had spent years calling him a brat, and Lucian didn't know how to become something else.

For the past two days, Sebastian had given him every opportunity to speak. He asked about classes, offered to watch a movie, and never once demanded that Lucian explain the kiss.

Lucian interpreted the restraint differently every hour. Sometimes it seemed considerate. Sometimes it felt like rejection.

He knew he was being unfair. Sebastian couldn't read his mind, and Lucian barely understood it himself.

He wanted proof that the kiss mattered. He was too proud to ask for it.

Nolan invited him to a birthday gathering at a downtown bar. Lucian agreed before he could reconsider.

He told Sebastian he'd be out late. Sebastian only asked whether he had a safe way home.

“I can take care of myself,” Lucian said.

“I know.”

The simple answer unsettled him more than an argument would have.

Before going out, Lucian had stood in front of his wardrobe for fifteen minutes, changing shirts three times.

He told himself he was dressing for Nolan's party. He was not dressing for Sebastian. Sebastian wouldn't even be there.

Yet when he came downstairs, Sebastian glanced up from his book.

“Going somewhere nice?”

“It's a birthday party.”

“You look good.”

Lucian nearly dropped his keys. “You can't just say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” He gestured helplessly. “Because you say it like that.”

Sebastian put his book down. “Would you prefer I lied?”

“No.”

“Then have a good time.”

Lucian left before he could do something foolish, like ask Sebastian to come with him.

Outside, he stood on the steps and checked his reflection in his phone. He wondered whether Sebastian had meant the compliment as a friend, a roommate, or something much more dangerous to his peace of mind.

At the bar, music pulsed beneath warm amber lights. Nolan introduced Lucian to friends from the theater department, including a charming student named Ryan.

Ryan complimented Lucian's drawings and asked thoughtful questions about his upcoming exhibition. Lucian enjoyed the attention, especially because it offered a distraction from thinking about Sebastian.

“Your boyfriend isn't coming?” Ryan asked after a while.

Lucian nearly spilled his drink. “I don't have a boyfriend.”

“Good to know.”

Ryan smiled. Lucian smiled back, then immediately felt guilty for no reason he could explain.

He checked his phone.

Sebastian: Hope you're having fun. Call if you need a ride.

Lucian typed a reply, deleted it, and slipped the phone into his pocket.

Nolan returned with snacks. “You look like you're plotting something.”

“I'm considering an experiment.”

“That sentence has never ended well for you.”

Lucian ignored him. He leaned toward Ryan for a photograph, then posted it to his story with a deliberately ambiguous caption.

Within minutes, Sebastian had viewed it.

Lucian's stomach flipped.

“What are you trying to prove?” Nolan asked.

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you watching your phone like it owes you money?”

Lucian had no answer.

An hour later, Ryan offered to walk him to the quieter back room. Lucian declined, but Ryan continued talking close to his ear to be heard over the music.

Lucian stepped aside, uncomfortable.

At that moment he saw Sebastian near the entrance.

He stood beneath a wall lamp, wearing a dark coat, his expression unreadable. He had evidently come after receiving Nolan's message that Lucian seemed upset.

Lucian's first reaction was relief. His second was annoyance that relief came so easily.

Ryan followed his gaze. “Friend of yours?”

“Something like that.”

Lucian took Ryan's arm, a childish impulse to see whether Sebastian would react.

Sebastian did react. His jaw tightened. Then he looked away.

He turned toward the exit.

Lucian's triumph vanished instantly.

“Excuse me,” he said, pulling his arm free.

He hurried through the crowd, past the coat check, and into the cool night air.

Rain had begun to fall.

“Sebastian!”

Sebastian stopped near the curb but didn't turn immediately.

Lucian caught up, breathing hard. “Why are you leaving?”

“You looked occupied.”

“I wasn't.”

“You were holding his arm.”

“I wanted to see if you'd care.”

Sebastian faced him then. Rain glimmered in his hair.

“And now?” he asked.

Lucian faltered. “Now I know you're angry.”

“I'm not angry that you spoke to someone else.”

“Then what?”

“I'm angry that you thought you had to hurt me to find out how I feel.”

Lucian looked down. Water gathered at the edge of the sidewalk and ran around his shoes.

“I don't know what we're doing,” he admitted.

“We kissed.”

“I know that.”

“And I meant it.”

Lucian's throat tightened. “Then why do you keep acting like nothing happened?”

“Because I was trying to give you room to decide what you want.”

“I hate room.”

Sebastian blinked. “You hate room?”

“I hate having to guess.”

“Then ask me.”

Lucian looked up. “Did you come because you were jealous?”

Sebastian hesitated. “Nolan said you seemed uncomfortable. I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“And the jealousy?”

“Yes,” Sebastian said simply. “That too.”

Lucian hadn't expected honesty. He didn't know what to do with it.

“You could've stopped me,” he whispered.

“From talking to Ryan? No. That's your choice.”

Lucian felt foolish. He'd spent the evening trying to provoke a reaction when he could have asked a question.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

Sebastian nodded. “Thank you.”

A passing car splashed water against the curb. Lucian shivered. Sebastian immediately removed his coat and settled it around Lucian's shoulders.

“Your back,” Lucian protested. “You'll get cold.”

“I'll survive the walk to the car.”

Lucian held the coat closed. It smelled faintly of Sebastian's soap, familiar enough to make his eyes sting.

“Do you hate me?” he asked.

Sebastian looked genuinely startled. “Lucy, no.”

“I keep doing stupid things.”

“Yes,” Sebastian said, not unkindly. “But you also keep trying to make them right.”

Lucian laughed shakily. “That's not exactly romantic.”

“I'm working on it.”

They stood close beneath the streetlight, rain falling between the parked cars.

Sebastian reached out, then paused until Lucian stepped nearer. His fingers brushed the edge of the coat collar.

“I can handle you hating me,” he said quietly. “I can't handle watching you choose someone else.”

Lucian stared at him, the words settling somewhere deep and tender.

For once, he had no clever reply.

He reached for Sebastian's hand instead.