I don't care what path you choose going forward, even if I'm not in it.

Kieran spent the afternoon watching over the boy's sleeping figure, the shape of his body curled in the sheets.

As soon as their little dance session was over, Kieran dragged Lennon back home and tucked him into bed. The chestnut boy was protesting, going on about the college work that he didn't get to finish. But exhaustion weighed on his eyelids and he reluctantly gave up that fight.

"Feed Socks."

Kieran failed to suppress a grin. "I will."

The feline had welcomed them with a very fond loud purr when the pair entered the door.

"Stay this time," Lennon muttered, hand stretching across the mattress to clasp Kieran's, "would you?"

The ravenhead watched with a heavy heart as their skin sank into each other's. "Okay."

And he was out like a light.

Kieran pushed open the windows for better air circulation, embracing the gentle chill that swept into the honey-colored bedroom.

He spent moments by the window, observing the busy sun-kissed streets below. Other moments he spent lying next to the boy and staring unabashedly at him. An unfamiliar calm solidified in his bones. He was no longer chasing after unpromising answers or cowering away from his lost passions.

Three hours later, Kieran was strolling into the kitchen to check on Socks' bowl. Being a cat-sitter was not a talent of his, but it wouldn't hurt to see if everything was alright.

"Hey little murderer," he cooed, crouching down and scratching the cat under the chin, "How are you doing?"

Socks completely turned on its back with its paws up, exposing its tummy for Kieran to rub. Surprise painted the ravenhead's features, but he complied anyway.

"You sure are very trusting for a killer," he commented, eyebrow raised before he turned to the kitchen, "Should I make something for him? Though all I remember is Chinese home-cooked food."

As he skimmed past the counter, his eyes landed on the phone Lennon left by the stove before Kieran managed to usher him to bed.

Suddenly he remembered the call Lennon had received just before they decided to leave the studio and he began to panic.

Shit, Kieran thought, Didn't Len say it was from work? Does he need to work today?

Without a second thought, he picked up the phone and the screen came to life.

1 missed call from—

Kieran froze.

Precious

That eerie calm feeling of his dissolved into the floorboards, replaced by confusion. He shook his head, planting the phone back down and backing away.

I don't care what path you choose going forward, even if I'm not in it.

Weren't those his words? It felt like the perfect thing to say in the moment— full of sacrifice and selflessness. But to what extent did he mean it? Had he not considered a path where Lennon would find another, or rekindle a past flame?

Kieran scoffed at himself.

It was just a single missed call from someone who once meant a lot to Lennon. It could mean nothing at all. Besides, it was none of his business. But somehow it felt as if this one little thing could threaten the entirety of his existence.

Disgusted by his own thoughts, the ravenhead plopped onto the couch with a sigh and a facepalm.

"What's wrong?"

Eyes widening, Kieran looked up and spotted the chestnut boy standing under the doorframe to the hallway. "Hey," he managed, the word coming out horribly robotic.

"Thought you left," Lennon confessed quietly, rubbing his eyes. He looked soft like this— hair fluffed, cheeks pink.

The ravenhead shook his head defensively. "No," he gulped, "Just came out here to check on Socks." He motioned shakily at the blob of black that curled at his feet.

Lennon untangled the blanket from around his shoulders, eyeing Kieran suspiciously. "Did something happen?" He stepped towards him, dumping the blanket on the other end of the couch and hovering over Kieran's sitting frame. "You're acting like you've just seen a ghost." A smile pinched at the boy's mouth.

But the joke went over Kieran's head.

"You should get back to that call you got from work," he suggested, voice strained as if someone else was pulling the sentence out of him, "In case it was important."

"Work!" Lennon jolted around to face the crooked clock on the wall. It was noon. "Okay, I still have time but I should get dressed." He fretted around the living room. "It's probably just Vi, my coworker, asking if I can cover a shift for her."

Kieran nodded like he was wired to do so.

Socks launched itself into the ravenhead's lap, nesting there as he watched Lennon get ready. The boy made it a point to dress more nicely when it came to bartending, a thin silver chain layered on top of a glossy black satin top. It made Kieran wonder whether Lennon would put in the same effort if he ever gets the chance to take him out.

Somewhere expensive to treat him, to show him off. A nice restaurant that didn't include his usual instant noodles. Romantic stroll around a moonlit lake, their arms linked and noses cold. Lennon would beg to feed the ducks, then he'll name every single one of them and go on nattering about—

"Kier?"

The ravenhead blinked out of his groundless thoughts, refocusing on the timidness of Lennon's eyes.

"I know it's just work but," he paused, bashful, "would you come keep me company? We had fun last time you did."

You mean when we crowded into each other's personal space in a game of who gets flustered first? Kieran arched a brow at the thought. "We did," he replied instead, "But I told Autumn I'd go hunting with them today."

"Hunting," Lennon deadpanned.

"For my... afterlife ticket." It felt like centuries ago since he last talked about it. He fidgeted the fabric of his turtleneck.

"Oh yeah that's fine don't worry I get it." The boy expressed his approval with a curt nod, but crowded words made it obvious what he was anxious about.

Kieran swallowed down his insecurities, shutting out the thought of that one miss call even Lennon wasn't aware of. "Hey, c'mere."

Socks leaped off his lap as if sensing a cheesy situation it did not want to participate in.

The boy took two strides forward and stood awkwardly in front of him. Kieran did what he could to hold his hands, noticing the way Lennon's posture loosened instantly, chestnut curls fanning over dark eyes.

"I'll be back," the ravenhead promised, "I'll come back every evening every day, okay? I promise." Earnest swirled in his irises. "And if one day" —he inhaled— "under whatever circumstances I don't come back, I'll let you know beforehand."

Lennon's nose scrunched, posture tightening again.

"Okay?" Kieran murmured, thumbing his wrists, "So you don't have to sit around worrying where I am or if I'll come back for you. I will make time for you. Every evening. Would that make you feel better, more secure?"

The look Lennon gave him was so filled to the brim with relief and gratitude, it made the ravenhead wonder how many nights he spent second-guessing other people's intentions.

Lennon huffed out what seemed like hesitant laughter, leaning forward to deliver a kiss near Kieran's hairline. "Yes, it really would. I'd feel—" he exhaled, sensing that he didn't need to explain himself, "Thank you."

"It's just... communicating," the ravenhead answered with an air of casualness, gripping onto the couch so he won't float off his feet from that single kiss. "I'll be back at 5, sharp. Also, I'll cook dinner."

The chestnut boy blinked at him, processing the last statement. "What? Why?"

"Cause all you eat is that!" Kieran pointed dramatically at the stack of microwaveable food by the fridge.

"I'm living the broke college student life. Leave me alone."

The ravenhead scoffed, getting up. "I'm cooking."

"I don't have any, uh, special ingredients in the fridge," Lennon vacillated, scratching the back of his neck. He was equal parts impressed and humbled by Kieran's determination.

"Don't you worry your little head about it."

Kieran liked this more than he was willing to admit— fighting over who does the cooking like they lived together permanently, like the missed call on Lennon's phone was a distant memory.

"Fine," the chestnut boy supposed, grabbing his keys and then his phone off the counter, "mister paranormal."

Kieran's gaze lingered on the device before he cleared his throat. "Good. Have a nice day," he gushed as if Lennon was a stranger he bumped into at the supermarket.

"Bye~" his boy singsonged, waving.

He turned on his phone to check the time again, then froze like a deer caught in headlights. Kieran's smile dropped, watching attentively as Lennon lowered his phone with his lips parted, staring blankly ahead.

It was clear he was just as shocked at Kieran.

The ravenhead's fingers clutched onto his knees. "Len?" he called softly.

Lennon met his eyes. And for a moment, Kieran thought he would acknowledge the call but—

"See you later," the chestnut boy peeped, a pained edge to his farewell before he opened the door in a hurry and disappeared behind it.

Kieran frowned, hating when his mind began to merge Autumn and Lennon together with the belief that secrets never end well.