The thing about Ferran was that to get answers from him, you had to let him reveal them to you. He wasn't the type who would respond well to questioning. I could never be direct with him, he simply couldn't, or wouldn't give a satisfactory answer. I had to take extra care around him, always hinting, never direct. I guess that was the only way he knew how to communicate.

Rafel himself told me that.

I remembered it had been a warm afternoon. I was just relaxing on my bed, a book in my hand, reading as I enjoyed the warm sunlight coming through from the window.

"Mateu Espina engrossed in a book," Rafel said as he entered the room. "Never thought I'd see the day."

Rafel had gone out to hang out with some friends, but I hadn't expected him to come back too early. It was still a pleasant surprise, I guess.

"Well now you've seen it," I shot back.

Rafel had plopped himself beside me on my bed, ruffling my hair playfully to my chagrin.

"La Dame aux Camelias. . ." Rafel said. "Didn't think you were the romantic type."

I only rolled my eyes as I put the book away, into the drawer of my nightstand.

"Guess you don't really know a lot about me."

"Maybe," he said. "But you won't ever get to know every single thing about someone. We don't even know that much about ourselves."

"You know, sometimes you just say the most introspective things," I remarked snarkily. "You don't seem like the type to ponder a lot through your thoughts."

"Guess you don't really know a lot about me either," he shot back without missing a beat.

I could only smile. I loved how he always knew what to say.

"I thought you went out with the guys," I said, changing the subject.

"I was," he replied, stretching his arms out in front of him.

"Oh?"

Rafel only shrugged.

"I got tired I guess," he said. "Yeah, I do like socialising but sometimes I just rather spend that time alone, you know?"

"You're not alone right now," I teased, sitting up and joining him at the side of the bed.

"I don't have a choice now do I?" he said jokingly.

I only nudged him gently.

"What's troubling you?" I asked.

The boy's lips curled up into a soft, sad smile.

"I was just. . . thinking about my brother," he said, looking down at the wooden floor. "I'm worried about him."

"Aren't we all," I replied.

He frowned at me, a hint of irritation on his face. I didn't mean to come off like I was dismissing him, but I guess it was my fault that I didn't think before I spoke. The truth was, even back then, I was concerned for Ferran too.

"I'm not joking."

"Sorry."

We were silent for a while, Rafel heaving out a heavy sigh.

"He's taken a few days off from school," he said. "To see his therapist and also just rest."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said.

"I'm just so frustrated with myself," he said, kicking his feet off the ground. "I mean, I'm his brother, I should be doing more for him. But I can't do that if I don't even know where he's coming from."

"I think you understand him better than anyone," I said, trying to comfort him. "That has to mean something."

"Thanks," he muttered. "But still."

"Knowing you," I said. "You're the only one that gets him. It's certainly an achievement."

"It's like playing a guessing game when it comes to him," Rafel had told me. "But you'll see a pattern if you stare long enough."

"I guess."

Maybe that's why I wasn't too shocked when Ferran revealed to me what he did. It was a guessing game with Ferran, always has been. When you feel like you have him figured out, he pulls out something new. In his dreamy listlessness, he keeps you on your toes – always.

It was a quiet evening at my apartment, about two weeks after our reconciliation. I still had not heard from Momo. Was it bad that I barely thought of him? I had an incredibly eventful two weeks. Between Ferran and finally getting accepted to the internship I had always wanted, it would be a lie to say that I thought of Momo.

Maybe it was just my own body protecting myself. Momo, as much as I loved him, need not be part of the picture right now. Thinking about him would just hurt me.

I had called Ferran over to celebrate my new job. I originally thought we could meet for dinner outside, but I decided to just call him over instead. It was the first time I ever invited him over.

I had originally thought it to be just something casual, but I guess Ferran understood it differently. When the doorball rang, I found myself standing in front of the boy, a bouquet of pink camellias in his hand.

"Thank you for inviting me," he said as he passed me the bouquet to me.

"This is so sweet," I said, recognising the flowers from his garden. "Did you wrap this yourself?"

"Yeah."

I put the flowers away into the vase on the dining table. It was nice to have some fresh flowers for once. It was something that I missed. Momo had tried to get flowers for the vase, but I never let him. It was a special piece for me, that empty vase. I remembered vividly how I used to watch the oleanders die in them, withering away over time. And now, they've been replaced by Ferran's own camelias. Besides, there were too pretty to deny.

"Is that a lemon plant?" Ferran asked when I returned from the kitchen, pointing at my balcony. "You didn't tell me you had plants."

"Ah," I muttered, as I placed two glasses of water on the coffee table. "Well, they aren't exactly mine."

"So they're your ex-boyfriend's?" he asked.

I paused for a brief moment, before finally taking a seat on the sofa. Ferran only stood there, across from me, hands in his pockets.

I could only sigh. All this while we had avoided that topic, but it had unfortunately come up once again. I asked him to sit down while I headed over to the kitchen to check on the vegetable soup, but also for me to think of answer for how to bring the subject up. I set the table up, while Ferran just waited in the living room. I'd invite him to come and help me, but in that moment I just wanted to be alone with my own thoughts.

I didn't know how should I even approach it. I wouldn't know how Ferran would take it either if I brought the whole situation with Momo up. As much as I was afraid to admit it, I was scared of losing Ferran a second time. I simply couldn't.

Dinner began rather silently, as per usual. It was almost as if Ferran was waiting for me to speak. It was finally when I poured the wine for the both of us did we finally talk.

"Well," I began in the most unceremonious fashion. "To celebrate me getting my internship, I guess."

"I guess," Ferran replied, before we both took a sip of rosé.

I tried to savour the flavour of the wine, but I couldn't stop thinking of the impending conversation. But I still tried my best to just come up with whatever topic that could help me forget about what I had to say. Perhaps I was just looking for an excuse. But Ferran was never much of a talker, that much I knew. But still, I had to try. I guess I was just doing it for myself.

"How do you find the food?" I asked.

"It's good."

We fell silent.

"And the rosé?"

"Good."

We fell silent again.

"I hope the journey here wasn't too bad."

"It wasn't."

There was another bout of silence, until I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't know if it was Ferran or my own guilty conscience. But the tension was just so suffocating.

"About my ex-boyfriend," I began, finally having the courage to break the dreadful silence. "He's not exactly my ex."

The boy only looked at me, but I couldn't really read his expression. It was that cold, distant look that he always had on. The arctic eyes of his being frigid and far away, just like the most desolate glaciers where warmth never reaches.

"We're still together," I admitted, a little shamefully. "We're just on a break and he's been gone for the past two weeks. He's supposed to come back and we were supposed to work things out together. But he told me I could do whatever I needed to do in the meanwhile."

Ferran was silent, for a very long time. He had put his spoon down.

"Have you done what needs to be done?" he asked me.

I couldn't tell if Ferran was offended or not. Either way, I shouldn't have phrased it like that. I didn't mean to make it sound like he was just another task to finish, something to just check off my list. I didn't mean to make it sound like I used him. It seems like I never learn.

"I didn't mean to phrase it that way," I said, apologising either way just in case I offended him. "What I meant was. . . We have a lot of emotional baggage that we need to settle. In relation to us."

Ferran only gave a curt, silent nod.

"But what I told you about how I feel for you, that part's all true," I tried to assure him. "I still love you, very, very much."

Ferran never said anything.

"My ex-" I began, trying to explain things to him, for what it was worth. "He saw us at the harbour the other day, and I think he saw how upset I got, and he just put two and two together I guess. He doesn't know anything about us since I've never told him, but I haven't really put together why he left either."

"What is he like?" came Ferran's soft response.

"He's. . . lovely," I muttered, my voice tinged with guilt. "He always knows what to say to make me smile."

Ferran only nodded, a sad smile on his lips.

"I'm sorry I didn't mention this from the start," I confessed. "I didn't mean to lead you on, but when I finally got to see you again. . . I-"

I found myself struggling to bring the words that I wanted to my lips. Maybe I had just gone accustomed to being so accustomed to running away, that when I had to confront something I flounder. But I guess here I am, trying.

"I just wanted you to stay," I said. "I just wanted to feel like what it was again to have you all for myself like I did last summer. I thought it was a chance to start a fresh with you, on better terms, but I guess I've failed. And I'm sorry."

Ferran just fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt.

"My boyfriend is coming back in a few days too, actually," he said.

I could only look at him. His words felt like a punch to my ribs. But honestly I deserved it. I didn't have any right to be upset. He was an adult after all, his own person. It was arrogant of me to only think that I was the only person he could ever love. A part of me realised I wasn't even surprised at this. Ferran was full of surprises.

"Why are you only telling me this now?" I asked, out of curiosity.

Ferran was silent. Perhaps he was looking for the words. Perhaps he did it on purpose. But my biggest question was still why now? Was he saying this just to hurt me?

"It's not like my boyfriend and I are exclusive," he said, his gaze avoiding mine. "I just. . . didn't see the need to tell you."

Now it was my turn to fall silent. I don't know why it hurt so much. It's not like Ferran and I were together or anything. Perhaps it just goes to show how true my feelings were for him – that it pains me to see him with someone else. I just knew things were too good to be true. In a sense, it brought me back to reality.

"But do you love him?" I asked, blurting the question out without even a second thought.

"He loves me very much."

"I didn't ask if he loves you," I said. "I asked if you love him."

Ferran paused before looking at me again.

"There's only one man I love in my life."

"I love you too," I told him.

"I know."