//TW: swearing, mentions of self-harm, panic attacks\\

Alexander

"Okay," John said, crossing his arms. "I'm just gonna say what we're all thinking." He turned to glare at me. "Alexander, if I'm not the best man at your wedding, I will be very pissed."

Eliza turned to John. "Who's thinking that?"

"Well, everyone is now," he responded with a smirk.

Eliza made a face. "Well, I mean, you're not wrong. But isn't it too early to start thinking about a wedding?"

"It's never too early to start thinking about a wedding," John replied. "Plus: weddings have free beer."

I blinked, at a complete loss for words. John raised a knowing eyebrow at me, as if daring me to speak, and I just couldn't bring myself to answer his unspoken questions. It wouldn't have been good enough, anyway. Not good enough for John and certainly not good enough for Thomas, who deserved all the stars in the sky. The boy went stiff besides me anyway, pushing himself away as if putting all the space in the world between us would have made any difference. But they had already seen; our private little garden had been exposed for the entire world to gaze upon.

"Like I said," Lafayette added, grinning wildly and doing everything he could to hide that stupid look on his face. "If you want us to come back later..."

"No!" I exclaimed. "This is not...um. There's an explanation for this."

"Yeah?" Eliza pressed.

"Totally. Just give me like, a minute to think of it."

She rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless."

"Am not!"

"You are too."

"Okay, you know what—?"

But as we spoke, Thomas had gone completely silent save for the uneven catch of his breath in his throat. The simple, strangled sound—as if an animal was desperately trying to keep itself from drowning underneath a river of scarlet and crimson—halted all the words that had risen to my lips. God, he looked as if he was trying to keep afloat, fighting for survival. A story played across his face, a story I had seen too many times before. For a good minute, it looked as though he wanted to speak, to say something. But he was dragged back under those same old waves of anxiety, and whatever he wanted to say died.

I watched Thomas as he drew himself away, shrinking down as much as possible as if that would help him disappear. He began to grab at his wrists, fingers digging into the flesh still vulnerable from all the times it had been torn open. Panic flashed through his face even as he tried to hide its unrelenting tides of fear. Thomas closed his eyes tightly, and the floor underneath me caved inwards.

"Thomas?" I asked, reaching for his hands before he could hurt himself and reopen the fading scars. His skin was cold under my touch. "Hey, it's alright. Breathe, remember? Breathe for me."

He nodded, murmuring something over and over again, three syllables that did not belong here, or anywhere else. Not in his sweet voice. They were words filled with disappointment and guilt and failure, and my Thomas deserved better than all of those things. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm—"

"Thomas, you don't have anything you need to apologize for, okay? Everything's okay. Just breathe."

He relaxed slightly, letting me envelope his hands with my own. His breathing slowly began to steady as he drew in deep gulps of air, and I pulled him closer to me even if all the world could now see. It didn't matter. He was free, and he would always be free, no matter who tried to intervene, no matter who tried to rip him away. I could feel his heartbeat pulsing wildly against my arm, but it began to slow a little, returning to the rate at which it belonged.

"Sorry," he said again, much louder this time and more like his normal self. A soft laugh filled the air, carried by the translucent wings of some intangible yet equally delicate butterflies. I softened at the sound and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close to me if it meant keeping him safe from the evils of this world just waiting to hurt him.

"You alright?" Lafayette asked, not unkindly.

Thomas nodded, setting his hands in his lap. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry about that. It just...you scared me. That's all." He laughed again, and the tension in his shoulders dissipated a little bit more. And once more, he slid a few inches closer to me, closing the chasm that seemed to spring up every moment where his touch was absent.

"So, uhh...not to brag or anything, but was I right or was I right?" John asked, marching over to sit on the other side of me. He punched me in the shoulder.

"You're an asshole."

"And you're avoiding the question."

But behind his smug exterior, if I looked hard enough, I could catch a faint glimpse of the sadness that lurked just underneath. It was so measly that I had to wonder if I had made it up in the first place. I opened my mouth to speak but John turned away, and I didn't have to guess at what he was thinking. And just like that, the heavy cover of a book fell shut, and light would never again shine on all the things that could have been. John's parting words from that ethereal night that seemed like centuries ago whispered through my mind once more, followed by the thought of his kiss.

But that all evaporated under the subtle glow of the starlight as Thomas shifted against me, wrapping his arms around one of mine in an attempt to hold on. I glanced over at him and lightly kissed his forehead, momentarily forgetting about the situation we found ourselves trapped in. There would be no way to deny this now, but in all fairness, I don't think there ever was. It was simple truth, and simple truth cannot be denied so matter what route you take to try and prove otherwise.

Thomas looked at me and cast me his softened smile, a promise that everything was alright. And how could it not be?

"So, uh, how long has this been a thing?" Lafayette asked, flicking his hand to emphasis his point. He pinned Thomas under a soft yet questioning gaze.

"Oh, umm," he began, relying on me for support. I brushed my hand against his shoulder lightly, just another reminder that no matter what, I would always be here. I would always be his. "About a month or so."

"Okay. And you didn't tell us why?" Eliza prompted, sounding genuinely offended. "I told you about Maria. I expect you to...oh, I don't know, trust me."

"That was different."

"In what way?"

Thomas opened his mouth and closed it again, choosing the smarter of the two options. He smiled, though. It was quite a pretty one.

Lafayette stepped over to where we were sitting, gazing between the two of us for a long moment. He didn't speak, but Thomas seemed to understand regardless. A shared sentiment lingered between the two of them for a second longer, then satisfied, the Frenchman smiled.

"I wanted to tell you all," Thomas said softly. "But we...I was afraid of what...James would do to me—to us—if he found out."

"Oh," Eliza said. "Still. You should have told me. I'm great at keeping secrets!"

"I mean, you're better than Alexander."

"Anybody's better than Alexander," John helpfully pointed out. "I mean...if we haven't forgotten..."

"Oh go fuck yourself." I snapped. Besides me, Thomas tensed. "Sorry, baby. Didn't mean to scare you," I mumbled, picking a rose from the vase next to the table which I always made sure to keep well-stocked with the prettiest flowers I could find. I inspected the stem, pried off any last remaining thorns, and slid the flower behind Thomas's ear just as I had so many times before.

Thomas sighed softly, and then, as if pushing something inside of him down, as if vanquishing some silent forms of protest still gripping onto his body and keeping him from the love he deserved, he pressed himself against me and rested his head on my shoulder. It wasn't anything passionate or overwhelmingly sensual, just the fleeting touch of the boy I would give anything to protect. And that was worth so much more than anything else it could have been, I think. It was so much more solid, so much more unchanging.

Lafayette and Eliza shared a knowing glance, and John's genuinely happy smile shadowed any other hesitation he may have had. I made a mental note to talk to him later, to apologize. It was only fair.

"So, who else knows?" Lafayette asked Thomas softly. He always seemed more gentle around him. Not that I minded or anything.

"Um, just you three."

"Hey! What about me! I know!" I teased lightly, brushing my thumb against his curls.

"Wait, you knew?" Thomas returned, quick to pick up on my joke and eager to keep it alive. "Really? I thought I was doing a great job of keeping it a secret."

"Hah! You can't hide anything from me!" I kissed his cheek, and the flowery fragrance of his rosy perfume washed over me once again. I allowed myself to smile, to pull him just a fraction of an inch closer to where it was unnoticeable to the onlooker but made all the difference to the two of us.

"What, you haven't even told Aaron?" Lafayette asked.

"No, uh, not yet."

"Oh man, he's gonna be so pissed when he finds out!" John crowed triumphantly, to which Eliza shushed him with a sharply-pointed glare. "What? You know how much he hates being kept in the dark."

"This is serious, then, huh? You usually tell Aaron everything."

Thomas shrugged. I reached for his hand and squeezed gently, hoping it could chase away whatever gloom was seconds away from setting in. It wasn't hard to see the signs, to feel the way with which he curled up on himself.

"So, are you three here to make us feel bad about our life decisions or was there an actual purpose?" I asked, feeling buoyant when that flicker of a smile lit up Thomas's face again.

"Nobody's making you feel bad for anything, okay, so shut up," said John.

"Right," Lafayette said. "Well, everyone else is busy and we wanted to see if you two would like to grab dinner with us or something?"

"Oh, uh, I don't know—" I began. With the way Thomas had reacted to my frustration earlier, it was clear that today was not one of his better days. I doubted that flaunting him around in public would be what he needed at the moment. Though, I didn't mine the thought of everybody else in the world gazing at him with the reverence he deserved, seeing him the same way I did, especially with how beautiful and intelligent and wonderful he was and...

Wait, what were we talking about?

"You guys should go," Thomas said, smiling. "It'll be fun."

"If we're going, you're coming with," I said. "I'm not leaving you here alone."

"Oh, relax," John said, rolling his eyes. "Thomas can make decisions for himself. It isn't like he's gonna burn the apartment down while you're gone or anything."

"You don't know what I'm capable of."

"Thomas, you used to cry whenever we joked about killing octopi as kids," Lafayette pointed out. I felt like I needed more of a backstory to that one.

"Okay, that doesn't mean I'm incapable of destruction!" he protested, crossing his arms in perhaps the most adorable way possible. "I'm...I'm dangerous, okay?"

Lafayette cocked an eyebrow, barely able to suppress his laughter. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Well, if you say so."

Thomas relaxed, cast me a soft look. I wish I deserved to bask in the absolute adoration of his gaze, but it didn't feel like I had any right to. He was so...wonderful. In every way imaginable. He was like a gorgeous star millions of lightyears away, and I was a simple human drinking in its splendor. But I held him closer, anyway. Just because I could. "But I'll go with you guys, if you really want me to."

"We do!" Eliza exclaimed.

"C'mon, Thomas," I said softly. "It'll be fun. And maybe later, I'll buy you ice cream."

He perked up at that. "Well, I do like ice cream."

"More than you like me?"

"You aren't prepared for the answer to that question," he said, smiling radiantly. I laughed, letting my grip on him loosen so he could go get ready. As he disappeared into the other roomy, briefly, John cast me a short look. But when I returned it, his gaze darted away and he didn't look at me again until we were out on the street, the wind whipping in our faces.

"Hey, uh," Lafayette said to Thomas as we stepped out onto the sidewalk. He gestured to Thomas's neck, biting back a smile. "You've got..."

"Oh! Sorry! Um, thank you," Thomas mumbled, hurriedly fixing his sweater to cover up the shape of my mouth pressed into his warm, brown skin. Maybe I shouldn't have, but I smiled all the same.

"Oh, and Thomas?" Lafayette said, his voice dropping low. Perhaps he meant to keep it between the two of them, perhaps he hadn't wanted me to hear. But I did, and something inside of my stomach curled and soured at the mere thought of what he proposed. "You would let me know immediately if Alexander hurt you, right?"

And of course, Thomas didn't answer. Instead, his fingers drifted up to brush against the flower still resting behind his ear. I swallowed hard, searching his face for an answer, a glimmer of something.

"I am serious, Thomas. I am not letting you go through that shit again."

"I—yes. I would tell you," he returned quietly, just barely audible over the traffic and inherent noise of the city. I watched him for a moment, the sad, unsure look in his eyes reflected by the neon lights glowing like artificial stars. There was so much there, in his face. Suppression of the past, fear of the future. But his eyes caught mine and he offered me a smile, a respite from the hardness of the world, a complete renewal from all we had been dealt. I poured myself open to him in that tiny fraction of a moment where our eyes briefly met, a promise that I would never break, even if it meant death.

So I smiled back, and when Thomas spoke next, he had taken on an amused, hopeful tone. "He did call me a cow a few minutes ago, so that was fun."

All three of them turned to glare at me, and I raised my hands defensively. "Cows are romantic, okay?"

John raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Alexander, have you ever seen a cow? Like, up and personal?"

"Sure..."

John nudged me with his elbow. Eliza rolled her eyes at me, as if in complete disbelief that I could ever say something so stupid (which was ironic because has she met me?), and lengthened her stride so she could match it with Thomas and Lafayette. Then, she proceeded to talk shit about me in the most Eliza-way possible.

But Thomas's laughter echoed over the din of the city, and the rest of the world fell silent in the wake of such a complete and pure song.

"Wow, you're smitten," John teased from besides me. "I've only ever seen you like this with Eliza."

"That's a good word, John. I didn't know you knew good words," I shot back.

"Oh, fuck off."

I watched him for a moment. It was too noticeable, the way his smile faltered. The way he glanced at the concrete below our feet, looking at anything but me. I reached forwards, touching his back softly.

"Are—are you alright?" I asked.

"I'm fine."

"John—"

"I'm serious." He laughed, shoving his hands in the pockets of his worn, faded jeans. "I'm fine! Everything's fine."

"I'm not an idiot."

"Wanna bet?"

"Hey! I'm trying to be nice! Don't make me stop being nice!"

He laughed. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry. But seriously! Everything's fine. Honestly, it's not the end of the world. I've spent, what, about five minutes around you two? It's not hard to tell how happy you make each other. And that's wonderful. I'm really happy for the two of you. Really. I am."

"John..."

"Hey, I don't wanna make this sad or anything. You don't have to feel bad for anything, okay? It isn't your fault you don't feel the same way." He laughed again, though there was something behind this one. An inherent sadness. And, God, I hated it. "I'm serious, Alexander."

"John, I—thank you. I...I um, I really care about you."

"Yeah, well, who doesn't?"

"Okay, shut up!" I said, pushing him away, and the playful atmosphere settled back in.

"John, come tell Eliza that I'm right!" Lafayette exclaimed, and where John shot ahead to join the two of them, bickering away, Thomas fell back to fill his space.

"What were you and John talking about?" I could tell he was trying to hide it, but regardless, a soft note of worry trilled in his voice. He kept his hands still at his side, his body too stiff to be natural.

"Oh, nothing important."

Thomas took a second or two before responding. "Well, if you're sure."

"Hey, there's nothing to worry about. I promise. I'm yours, Thomas."

He nodded, his smile flickering for a moment. But his hand found mind, our fingers intertwining. I drew in a breath of the fresh night air and sank into the warmth of his touch.

"What's wrong, love?" I asked.

Oooh... I liked that. Love. Yep. That's what I'm calling him now. It had a good ring to it.

"Hmm? Oh! Nothing, just a bit of a headache," he said. "I'll be fine though."

I frowned and looked over at him, judging whether or not he was being completely honest with me though. He lied to me too often, it felt like. "Sure you don't need anything?" I asked tenderly, rubbing his palm with my thumb.

Thomas shook his head. "No, seriously, I'll be okay. I promise."

"Okay. Just let me know if you need anything, alright?"

"I'm okay, Alexander. But thank you, I appreciate it."

"Okay. Just know that I'd, uh, I'd kill a dragon for you."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Definitely. I'd do anything for you. I'll be, like, your white knight or whatever. That's romantic, right?"

The look in his eyes was enough for me. How could I have ever wanted anything more? Thomas narrowed the distance between us and softly kissed my cheek. His touch was like the gentle fluttering of butterfly wings against my face, light and faint and always fleeting. I swept him aside, pulling him to the side next to a building. I squeezed his hand tighter, if only to memorize the feeling of him once and for all.

"Everything alright?" he asked after a second or two.

"Yeah, sorry, love," I returned, unsure of how to explain the sudden feeling that had swept over me. "I just...I want you to know how much I care about you, that's all."

He opened his mouth to speak, but Lafayette cut him off.

"Hey, hurry up you two!"

Thomas squeezed my hand. "I care about you, too," he whispered, only for me to hear.