27. Finishing Sentences
Finishing Sentences
“So, we’re agreed, then? Back to normal?” Dae held his mug with both hands, intently focused on the floating tea bag. He stood at the kitchen counter in his gym shorts and a baggy sweater while Theo rearranged the pillows on Céline for no reason.
“Yeah. That’s probably a good idea.”
Dae must’ve stayed up all night crafting the speech he’d just given about being a thousand percent sure about what they wanted before they rushed into anything.
It made sense. Theo had proven that all he was capable of were messy flings and heartbreak.
Of course Dae was hesitant. Of course Theo couldn’t push him.
He didn’t deserve to, not if he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t hurt him.
He would not do that to him.
Not Dae.
Despite the drapes fluttering with cool autumn wind, the living room felt stale and oppressive, and for the first time since he’d moved in, too small.
He couldn’t get enough space between him and Dae, and he needed space, because all he wanted to do was kiss him again and again and again and again...
“Okay.” The word was completely neutral, and it gave Theo zero indication of how Dae felt.
He wasn’t completely obtuse. He’d catalogued all the moments through the years and squirrelled them away in the deepest recesses of his memory as proof that Dae was attracted to him; the looks that held too long, the touches that were a little too soft, the blush caused by thoughts that played across his face as his eyes devoured him.
But attraction wasn’t a declaration. It wasn’t trust. It wasn’t permission. And Theo needed all three before he would risk the best thing in his life.
He watched Dae twist the string of the tea bag around his finger and dunk it in and out of the water, his concentration unbreakable.
Theo couldn’t count how many times over the years he’d wanted to crash through those thick walls of his, but never so much as this moment. But he had no right to ask. He’d pushed him away too many times, and now Dae’s uncertainty was a punishment of his own making.
So he just nodded. “Okay.”