Nick Peterson is confused.

"So." Yves clears his throat, looking at him. "You're happy whenever you're with her."

Nick nods, eyes big.

"You miss her when she's not around, and you get sad when she's sad, happy when she is."

Nick nods again.

"You've been spending all your free time with her, to the point of ignoring me—"

Orion lets out an impatient noise and states, point blank, "So you're in love with her."

"I don't know," Nick answers, blinking. "Am I?"

Orion's face is considerably blank.

Yves sighs. "Nicholas. Why the fuck are you asking us."

He blinks again and leans forward. Whispers, "Who do I ask, then?"

"Fucking—Spider-man for all we care," the brunet snaps, pushing his shoulder, and then they turn around and leave.

*

Kaia walks around her apartment in only a shirt and underwear.

It used to make him sweat—back when they were first dating. And then it used to make him angry—when her never-ending stock of friends came to her apartment and checked her out. Sometimes, it still annoys him, and Kaia sees the look on his face when the doorbell rings, and she rolls her eyes but puts on a pair of gym shorts, anyway.

And then it made him appreciative. Amazing view. Easy access.

Not now, though. Not when there's smoke coming out of her ears. She's scary when she's angry, Nick decides.

He's stiff, seated at the end of the couch. He clears his throat and mutters, "I made an evaluation form."

Nick slides the paper over and bows his head.

Kaia leans forward and takes it. Slowly, she reads, "'Nick Peterson's Boyfriend Performance for the Past Year'. To be answered only by Kaia Porter. One. Nick has been a good boyfriend. Strongly disagree, disagree, neutral, agree, and strongly agree."

"There's a section for suggestions for improvement at the end," Nick tells her.

"Ah." Kaia clears her throat and straightens the paper, eyes moving downward. Nick cowers. "I'll do that first, then. Suggestions for improvement: don't run away when things get bad. Fucking talk to your girlfriend." She scoffs a little and looks at him. "Ah, sorry. Am I still your girlfriend?"

Nick sighs, shoulders slumping. "Kaia."

"I understand if you needed your space after that bomb I dropped," she says, tossing the paper on the table, crossing her arms over her chest. The loose strands of her hair not included in her messy bun fall across her face, and Nick's fingers twitch. "But almost two weeks, Nick? Of avoiding me, dodging my calls and texts, running away whenever you see me?"

He clears his throat and looks away, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I didn't know what to say."

"Oh, really!" Kaia laughs and stands up. God, it scares him. "How about, 'Kaia, I'm sorry, but I don't feel that way about you', or, 'Kaia, can you give me some time to give you an answer?' If you were going to dump me, you should've just done it."

Nick grits his teeth and stands up, too. "I'm not dumping you."

"Are you still in this with me, then?" Kaia demands, raising her eyebrows. "Because lately, I've been feeling like I'm the only one in this relationship—and if I didn't—if I didn't come to pick you up by surprise from work you wouldn't have come to me at all. You were just...planning to never talk to me about this."

He swallows thickly. "That's just my strategy for most things, yes."

Another humorless laugh. Kaia slaps a hand to her forehead and paces. "Jesus, Nick."

"Just—listen." Nick inhales deeply, shutting his eyes. "A little...a little warning would've been nice."

"Hey, Nick," Kaia says robotically. "Just a warning. I love you."

"Ah, God." Nick turns away. "How are you so—how are you so—"

"What?" she demands, stepping closer to him. "How am I so what?"

"How are you so sure," Nick snaps, taking off his glasses and running a hand through his face. "God, Kaia. Have you seen—have you seen the amount of people just lined up for you, waiting for us to break up because they know I'm not good enough—"

She lets out a frustrated noise. "Nick. Oh my God. You are not using jealousy as an excuse."

"It's not jealousy," Nick says lowly, pushing his glasses back up his nose. He stares at Kaia. "It's the truth. That's what your parents said, too."

Kaia's lips part. She holds his gaze. "So that's what this is about. That meeting with my parents."

It was horrible. It was more than horrible. Nick cringes and gets an allergic reaction whenever he thinks of it, and even now, when Kaia mentioned it, he winced.

They took one look at him, decided he wasn't good enough for their daughter, and dismissed him.

Nick made sure it didn't show in his face or his voice—Kaia had a good relationship with them. He tried pushing it out of his head. But then—

"Nick," Kaia whispered, pressing their foreheads together, fingers in his hair. "Nick, I have to tell you something. You don't have to answer me now, okay? And don't feel pressured. I just need to let you know."

He stared at her and silently prayed she didn't just have an epiphany of why the fuck am I dating this loser when I can literally have anyone else at my feet.

Instead, she said, "Nick, I love you."

It was worse. He pushed away from her, grabbed his jacket and keys and phone, and said, "Okay. Bye."

And then she waited for him outside his apartment like she always does on Wednesdays the next morning, only to find out that Nick was already in school, and then she dropped by his workplace only for him to brush her off when she tried to get him alone, and then she...she called him. At three in the morning, last week.

Nick was worried. So he answered.

"Can I see you?" she asked.

Nick took a deep breath. "Not at three in the morning, Kaia."

"I always want to see you," she said, angry about it. "I want to see you all the goddamn time."

And then Kaia cornered him after his shift today. "Get in, you've had enough space," she said, pushing the passenger door open. "And before you try to run away, remember that I'm an athlete, and I can run and catch you, break your bones, and drag you in here myself. Your choice."

Nick cleared his throat and got in the car.

So. Now. Nick just—he just knows Kaia can love someone better. Someone infinitely better.

"Why can't you just—" Her voice breaks at that last word, and her head moves to the side, tears on her cheeks. "Why do you always—why do you always..."

Nick says, "Kaia, I'm just...I'm just confused. I'm nothing, and I know we're dating, but I—"

"Fucking stop," she growls. "Stop before I punch the shit out of you. You know why I haven't yet? Because I'm crying. I'm crying right now and it's all water." She furiously swipes at her skin and shows it to him. "Water. No stars. So you love me, too, even if you don't know it or can't say it yet."

That's how it works. That's how they know.

Nick's exhale is shaky. "Kaia..."

"If you think I deserve someone better," she says, eyes red, "then be someone better. Don't give me bullshit. And regardless of what my parents think of you, does it matter? Should it matter? I'm the one you're dating, not them, and I know they can be little shits and I'm sorry about that, but you know what, Nick Peterson? I look at you and think, 'ah. This one's going to hurt. This one's going to hurt so bad.'"

Nick looks away.

How does—how does Kaia feel so sure holding—holding as wild of a creature as love in her fragile hands and not—crush it by accident, know that it won't run away?

"You think you're so undeserving of love which is why you're so afraid to give it," Kaia says. "But I'm sorry, Nick. I do love you. I want you, and I need you. So deal with it, or I'm going to—"

He stomps over to her, grabs her face, and kisses her.

Nick feels Kaia's body sink into him. Lips trembling.

He pulls back and asks, "You're going to what?"

"I'm going to give you a 'strongly disagree' on number one," she whispers brokenly, hands on his shirt, clutching the fabric.

Nick's mouth curves. "Really."

"Yep. And you know, whatever possessed you to do that should possess you more often. You don't grab me and kiss me like that. I like it."

Nick makes a noise and slumps his head on her shoulder. "Can you..." he inhales sharply. "Can you tell me that again?"

"I love you," she says in his ear. He feels her heart thump so strongly in her chest. "I need you, and I want you."

Nick, stupid shit he is, asks, "In what context?"

"In every context, asshole," Kaia says, sighing and wrapping her arms around him. "I'm sorry about my parents. They're just...they're worried."

Nick understands. He can't hold it against them. Everyone is afraid of the Disease.

They just decided he wasn't worth getting the Disease for—if that ever happens to Kaia.

It won't, though. He won't allow that to happen.

He cards his fingers in her hair and hugs her tight. "Just...deal with my stupidity and we'll be fine. I'm sorry."

Kaia laughs. Her breath tickles his skin. "I'm just happy I didn't cry stars. That would've been awkward."

Nick sighs. "Your eyes told you what I couldn't say."

"You were just scared, Nick," Kaia tells him softly, pulling away. She smiles at him and squeezes his fingers. "I want to hear it from you, though. Just answer me. Do you love me?"

Nick's voice doesn't shake when he answers, "Yes."

Kaia's smile widens. "Do you really mean that?"

He nods. "Yes."

"Can you..." She swings their arms together. "Can you stay the night?"

Nick nods again. "Yes."

"Can you kiss me again before I answer your evaluation form?"

He grins and leans down. "Yes."

"That's a lot of yeses, Nick Peterson," Kaia whispers, tiptoeing, meeting him halfway. "Thank you."

*

After their first kiss in Kaia's apartment, Nick didn't know what the fuck to do.

Kaia is no help either.

She drags him ice skating. Nick blinks, watching her tie his shoes for him, and says, "I'm not a good skater."

She smiles and looks up at him. "Neither am I." And then in a flat voice, she mutters with a pout, "Oh, shucks. What are we going to do? I guess we're going to have to hold hands and lean into each other..."

He swallows and looks around. All these—all these couples. He looks at his hands when he asks, "Is this—is this a d-date?"

"I don't know. Is it?" She grabs his hand and pulls him toward the rink.

She was lying. She's a good skater, and she laughs at him all night, holding his hands. Strangely warm.

And then he goes home just to visit his parents for a weekend. Kaia calls.

"I miss you," she says loudly.

Nick trips over the kitchen rug, moving to get out of the kitchen. His mom follows him with a wide smile and twinkling eyes and squeals, "Nicholas! Is that your girlfriend?"

"Shh!" Nick says to her, covering the phone, and runs to his room.

He says, "My mom asked if you're my girlfriend."

Kaia is smiling when she answers, "And? Am I?"

He hangs up.

And then Kaia drags them all to a party Nick could care less about, but Cassia and Yves are buzzed and dancing, and Orion's at the bar trying so hard not to watch them, and Kaia drags Nick to the drinks with the different-colored plastic cups with labels.

Nick blinks, scrunching his nose to push his glasses upward. A pink cup is for taken, purple is for DTF (???), blue is for single, and green is for it's complicated. Complicated? What is? Choosing drinks?

He looks at Kaia. "What is DTF?"

She grins at him, finding his hand, and Nick jolts—his whole body does that his first instinct is to yank his arm away, but Kaia anticipates this and holds onto it tighter, squeezing his fingers, and Nick's muscles relax.

But he blushes and looks away, scratching the back of his ear.

"Down to fuck," she answers coolly.

"Oh. I'm not," he says, blinking, looking at the wall behind her.

She laughs. "Yes. You're not."

How does she know? Why is she agreeing? A thought pops into Nick's head. "This is offensive to the blind, to the victims of the Disease. What if they're starting to lose color? What if they accidentally take a purple one but it's actually pink? Or blue? Or green—whatever 'complicated' means. I just think we should be more sensitive to the community and just—"

Kaia's other hand slides to the back of his neck, and Nick forgets words. Sentences. What.

She stares at him, smiling, and then her eyes slide down to his mouth.

"Can I kiss you?" Kaia asks quietly.

"It won't overthrow the government," Nick says stupidly, freezing. His eyes move to her forehead, to a strand out of place in her hair, to her shoulder, to the floor—

"No, it won't," Kaia agrees. And then she leans forward and touches her lips with his.

Nick closes his eyes, but he doesn't move.

She's smiling. "You can kiss me back sometime," she lets him know.

Nick doesn't know how to do that.

"Stop overthinking," Kaia mutters gently, her hand coming up to his face, and Nick just—shivers.

"I have no other type of thinking available," he mumbles.

"Okay." She falls flat on her shoes, because she's been tiptoeing this whole time, and she's still smiling at him, eyes shining. "We'll do it when you're less nervous and anxious."

"That's not going to happen," Nick tells her.

"We'll do it when we're not at a party with sweaty and horny people," she corrects, finding his hand again and leaning up to kiss his cheek. "You wanna get me a drink?"

Nick blinks at the colors. "Uh. Are you—are you DTF?"

Kaia shakes her head. "Nope."

"Okay." He swallows thickly. "Is it—is this complicated?"

"Not at all," she answers again, stroking her thumb on his skin. Nick tries really really hard to choke up.

"Are you—" He clears his throat loudly and looks away, head facing away from her. "Taken?"

"I don't know," Kaia says. "Am I?"

Nick blinks. Tilts his head. Looks at their joint hands. "Wait. Am I taken?"

"Are you?"

Nick frowns and turns around. "Why don't you know? You're the one who keeps telling me you like me."

Kaia blinks at him, her mouth still curved upwards. "Yeah. That's right, I like you."

"So?" Nick scowls. The fuck is this relationship shit.

"So, we can't be in a relationship if one of two parties doesn't want it," Kaia says, shrugging. "I'm here, kissing you, taking you to dates, calling you, texting you, holding your hand, picking you up from work. And I think, by those standards, I already am your girlfriend—but I don't think I have a boyfriend."

"I'm standing right here," Nick says, confused.

"It goes both ways, baby," Kaia tells him with a laugh. "I know this is your first, which is why I've been—I am patient. But since you're asking—do you want to be with me?"

"Yes," Nick says.

Kaia raises an eyebrow. "But you don't know how. You like me, but you're not sure if you want a relationship with me."

Nick stares at her. "My therapist says I should make a list of pros and cons when I don't know the answer."

Kaia isn't offended or fazed. She lets go of his hand. "Pros? Me," she says, gesturing to herself. "I'm yours."

"As in." He clears his throat. "As in...?"

"As in I'm committed to you," Kaia says simply. "I'm yours. All in. Everything."

Nick bows his head and rubs the nape of his neck. "That's a big pro."

"Mm. It is," Kaia agrees. "Cons? I don't know. I'm a very jealous person. Ah, maybe the Disease, but at this rate, it's me who's going to get it, not you. I like you way more than you like me and I'm probably going to love you more than you love me."

Nick shakes his head. "That's not true."

"We won't know unless we're together," Kaia says sadly, sighing. She juts her bottom lip out and sighs again. "Too bad we're not."

He covers his face with his free hand and mumbles, "Too bad."

"Yep. Too bad."

Nick grabs two pink cups. He looks at Kaia and blinks. "What about now."

Kaia smiles widely at him.

He takes a deep breath and says, "But another con is that I'll probably be shit at this, I have way more baggage in here—" he points to his head, "—than most people, and you're going to be dating me. Me. Are you sure about this."

"You," Kaia repeats with a laugh, taking one of the cups. "Yes, you, Nick Peterson. I'm very fucking sure."

Without thinking, Nick leans down and stamps a kiss on her lips. Seals it.

Kaia blinks at him, eyes wide, frozen.

He blushes furiously, lets go of her hand, pulls his hood up, and zips it all the way upward.

"Did you just kiss me?" Kaia asks.

"I don't know. Did I? I was practicing," Nick tells her. "Yeah. Bye."

*

"Cassia and I are done," Yves says by way of greeting, slumping on the couch next to Nick, tossing his bag somewhere behind him.

Orion, from the other end of the couch, looks up from his phone. "What?"

"She wants something I don't," Yves mutters, taking Nick's can of Coke on the table. "Damn it. Now I've lost a friend and a fuck buddy. What is Nick doing."

"Shut up," Nick says, shaking the cramp out of his right hand. His constellation map on the black-painted canvas was almost done. "It's a gift for Kaia."

Yves squints, leaning forward. "It looks like shit. What is that?"

Nick glares at him, but he sighs and gets back to work. "She thinks people are afraid of stars because of the Disease, but she likes them. Thinks they're beautiful. I'm giving her stars—the happy, beautiful ones. Not the painful."

His friend whistles. "Simp," he says.

"Yves," Orion says, calm and quiet. He sits up. "Did you hurt Cassia? Did she cry?"

"No," Yves answers, scoffing. He leans back. "She just asked for a date. There's no way she's going to cry."

"And how do you know that," Orion snaps, standing up. He hitches his bag on his shoulder and heads for the door, slamming it on the way out.

Yves looks at Nick with a raised eyebrow, thumb pointing toward the direction Orion just left in. "What the fuck was that?"

Nick shrugged, too focused on his project. "If you're just going to continue being useless, leave my house."

Yves does, after he raids Nick's refrigerator and makes himself a sandwich, and after taking a very loud nap on his bed.

When sunlight bleeds through the window and morning comes, Nick plugs in the lights. The painted stars on the canvas shine.

He smiles, his finger grazing the lines to which the stars connect, and on a note, he writes:

Kaia, if I could reach the stars, I'd give them all to you.

But I can't, so this will have to do.

Yours, Nick.

P.S. You're never going to cry them. I promise you.

*

nick u absolute clown shite