"I feel like there might be something more than friendship brewing between the detective and his assistant."

It was Friday. We were divided into smaller groups within the writing programme and read parts of each other's writing for every Friday to have rounds of feedback.

My writing was currently up for discussion. It was a scene from a story I had spent years working on from time to time. It was quite different from what the others wrote. A lighthearted and humorous detective story compared to all the supposedly deep stuff the rest wrote.

"It just feels like the way the detective is reacting to the assistant's flirting is more a jealousy reaction than anything else," Kenna explained what she had said.

I looked at the pages I had handed in for the day. In the scene, the assistant flirted with a lassie to gain information. Afterwards, the assistant and the detective had a bit of a back and forth about interrogation tactics, giving absurd scenarios to find what was fine and what wasn't.

Kenna's words caused me to frown. The scene had never meant to convey anything other than humour.

"It also fits with how much they care for one another. It might not be written on the page, but I definitely think they might be a couple behind the scenes," Kenna concluded.

I just nodded and thanked her for the feedback. A lot because I didn't quite get it. The two characters were just great friends, like me and Errol. She was reading far too much between the lines if she saw anything romantic going on between them.

"I didn't really get it. Like what's the point," Dereck said next because of course I was stuck in the same group as the bigot.

"The point is to entertain," I muttered.

"We're not supposed to interrupt when someone is giving feedback," Dereck immediately pointed out and looked to the professor for support. The professor just waved for Dereck to continue, and he sure continued to trash it rather than give any constructive criticism. I didn't care much. As Dereck had said himself, art showed more about the viewer than the piece of art, and this just proved what an easily bruised ego Dereck had.

Dereck, who was writing about a rich twenty-year-old doing all kinds of bad things but blaming society for anything which went wrong. He had said the story was a commentary on the fall of modern society. I thought it was rather him getting to live out his own fantasies under the disguise of art.

Guess my interpretation showed I was able to hold a grudge.

When the whole session was over, both me and Kenna hurried out.

She cast a glance backward. "Dereck is awful. He makes me dread Fridays. I wish we could change groups."

I did too, but they had been very clear from the start it wasn't an option. So we were stuck with him at least until next year. Then we could hope for the groups to get switched up.

"At least he called your cat cute," I pointed out while holding back a laugh. He had done it as an after-thought at the end of a ten-minute speech about how he thought the story childish.

Kenna giggled, "True. Got one thing going for me then."

It had been a week since the party, and I wasn't sure what it was, but something had shifted slightly between me and Kenna. It didn't feel like she was as on me anymore, not as intrusive. She was still as friendly and everything, but it felt somewhat more casual.

I was relieved about it. My memories of the later parts of the party were a mess. I remembered having made a stupid decision of wanting to make out with her just because I had seen Errol make out with Cameron. But it was so hazy I had no idea how far I had gone in that plan, and all of Sunday I had dreaded meeting her on Monday.

She had been all friendly like normal, though. Well, except that tiny change. So I had quickly been able to let my dread out with a sigh.

Thinking about that whole reaction, my decision to want to kiss her, had got me thinking about what had started mine and Flora's relationship. The day before New Year's, a day which I had spent fixing for a party the next day with Airlia every year, until that time now close to two years ago. Airlia had decided to throw the party with Ethan instead.

She hadn't meant anything bad with it. She had even asked me if it was alright, and I had told her it was. But I had felt lonely that day in a way I hadn't ever before.

My twin, the one who had been by my side through thick and thin, had been slipping away from me.

Completely naturally. We both had to grow up and create lives of our own someday.

But that day it had felt awful. And enter Flora.

She had been an escape. A way to not feel left behind by Airlia more than anything else.

She had been like the candy you pick up at the end of buying food when you go shopping hungry.

If Flora hadn't, on multiple occasions, insulted Errol, I would have felt bad about using her.

Though looking back at all of that, a part of me knew I hadn't ever been fair to her, that I in fact did feel guilty, and that all of her insults towards Errol had been caused by my unfairness.

Like the comment she had made about him, which had caused me to finally break up with her. In retrospect, I knew better why she had made the comment, and it hadn't been because she had actually thought so herself. It had likely more to do with that she hadn't ever felt as if she had been my top priority.

She honestly hadn't ever even been second on my list.

The first spot, the one I would always prioritise above anyone else, went to Airlia. And Flora had always seemed fine with that, had accepted it at least. What she hadn't been able to accept was that Errol took second place.

We had had so many fights over that, and I couldn't blame her for being upset over it. Who wanted to feel like their boyfriend would never put them first?

I had tried to make sure she wouldn't feel like that in various ways. Like the fact that I had made her a book for her birthday had been because she had seen me make the one for Errol, and I had ended up feeling guilty about it.

But try as I might, I knew I had failed. And it had likely been even clearer for her after he had left that she wouldn't ever matter more to me than him.

She had been supportive and caring the first bit after it. But as time had gone by and I had continued to sulk, she had changed.

And so that horrible comment of hers had come to be.

She hadn't meant it, and I was fairly certain she felt as bad about making it as I felt bad about how I had treated her. I held no resentment against her, but hoped she would find someone who would put her first like she deserved.

"I'll see you on Monday," Kenna said as we stepped outside. Then she waved to Errol, who was walking up to me, before leaving us alone.

"How was class?" Errol asked when he reached me.

"Alright," I answered, deciding to keep the truth for later because I had more urgent things I wanted us to talk about.

We hadn't met up since the party. The only time we had spoken had been to make plans for today. He was off work, so we had decided to hang a bit right after my class ended. Then grab something to eat and go to the cinema.

But we hadn't spoken about the party at all.

I remembered he had walked me home, and I remembered being a crying mess. He had tucked me in when we had reached my place, and I had fallen asleep while he had still been there. But when I had woken up on Sunday, the only sign of him had been a note reminding me to drink plenty of water and not eat anything which could upset my stomach.

So I had no idea if I had done anything inappropriate. If I had said something stupid. Looking back at it, I felt ridiculous over how I had reacted to his and Cameron's kiss. It had been way over the top. It maybe had warranted a reaction the size of Ben Nevis, but not the Mount Everest reaction I had had.

And then his lips. That was something which I remembered clearly. How I for a bit had wanted nothing more than to kiss them.

Obviously, if I had known they belonged to him, I wouldn't have wanted to kiss them. I wasn't gay, after all. I mean, I had done stuff with plenty of lassies, so definitely not gay.

But I worried I had acted inappropriately because of my drunken state, just that I couldn't remember.

We walked around a bit. Not exactly talking about anything important. Then we reached a park. The same one where we had reinstated our friendship.

"So the party," I began when we had sat down on a bench. "I don't remember much, but I'm really sorry about gettin' so drunk. An' I'm really sorry if I said or did anythin' weird."

He smiled, then his hand twitched as if he wanted to ruffle my hair, but he never did. "It's fine, Alasdair. I've seen ye worse, an' ye didn't do anythin' weird."

"Oh, okay, good."

The lack of that ruffle...

I was pathetic, but it really felt like someone telling me Christmas was cancelled.

It made me more determined to ask for the other part I wanted to ask about, though.

"I've also been thinkin' since then that... I feel like I'm back into yer life, but also not really," I told him.

As over the top I thought my reaction had been during the party, I had come to realise the root of the problem was that I felt excluded from parts of his life. I had always been just by the simple fact that he had hidden his sexuality from me. And though I knew it now, it didn't feel like he had let me into that part of him. As if he still pretended to not be gay in front of me.

"What ye mean?" he asked.

"It's just... We've not talked at all really about that ye're... gay. An' I'm not sayin' I need to know a whole lot, but it just feels like ye're keepin' me out of that part of ye. I mean, ye know basically my whole datin' history an' stuff, but I don't know any of that about ye. Not that I need to know everythin'. I guess I just want to not feel like ye're intentionally hidin' parts of ye from me. Sorry. That probably doesn't make sense at all. Forget about it."

I looked away. Down to my hands, which were fidgeting relentlessly.

Then Errol reached out for me. Placed his hands on my chin and lifted my head so I would look at him.

He smiled at me with that gentle smile, which made everything feel better.

"I just wasn't sure how comfortable ye'd be hearin' about that," he told me. "But if ye are, then what do ye wanna know?"

I didn't care about the missed hair ruffle. He wanted to share that part of himself with me. And that was what mattered the most.

Christmas was coming, and he was Santa Claus bringing the gift of honesty.

I wasn't sure what I wanted to ask about, though. Or the actual question I wanted to ask was what his relationship with Cameron was. But I wasn't sure how I would react depending on the answer, and I didn't feel brave enough to find out.

So I went with something more casual. Something which had to have happened a long time ago.

"I don't really know. Who was yer first kiss?"

He laughed. "Ye know that."

"Oh, right," I mumbled, realising it had to be Airlia. Made sense. From what Airlia had told me, Errol had realised he was gay in connection to that. "Second kiss then."

The laughter left him. His eyes darkened and travelled down to my lips. My stomach clenched, and it was enough for me to understand.

I had been his second kiss. But what did that mean? Had he not done anything like that until then?

"My third kiss was with some random bloke a week after I moved here," Errol told me instead of giving a verbal answer to my question. "He had a tongue piercin', which felt weird. An' a way too big nose ring, which just stabbed me."

I laughed lightly, imagining it. "Where did ye meet him?"

"A gay pub."

"Can we go there?"

I felt excitement bubble in me at the prospect. It would be an opportunity to really see Errol just being him. With how the village was, he had to have constantly felt wrong. But at a gay pub he could be himself without fear of judgement.

Errol didn't meet my enthusiasm, though. His whole face seemed to harden instead.

"I dunno," he mumbled.

"Oh, it's alright. We don't have to." I looked down at my hands again, my mind spiralling. But Errol pushed on my head lightly.

"Get whatever is spinnin' in there out. I'm not sure because though the pub itself is safe, the area around isn't necessarily. It happens that people get attacked, an' I don't wanna put ye at risk like that."

My enthusiasm slowly returned. "But I'll be with ye. So I'll be fine. I'm always fine when I'm with ye."

Errol smiled and shook his head. Then ruffled my hair before agreeing.