I check my phone again. Nothing. The sunset's doing that orange-pink thing over the quad, and I'm just sitting here on this bench like an idiot, spiraling about a guy who's probably just busy, and I'm reading way too much into?—
"You look pathetic."
I look up. Sylas and Ethan are standing over me, both wearing expressions of mild concern. Well, Sylas is also amused.
"Thanks," I say flatly. "That helps."
"Scoot." Sylas drops onto the bench beside me. Ethan takes my other side. I'm suddenly surrounded by small gay men who I'm sure are about to give me opinions.Maybe some advice would be nice, though.
"What's wrong?" Ethan asks, gentler than Sylas.
"Nothing."
"Lies." Sylas pokes my arm. "He says you've been moping for a week. Spill."
I stare at the sunset. The sky would be romantic if I wasn't busy having a crisis.
"Doc's pulling away."
"Ah." Sylas nods like this explains everything. "And you're giving him space like a respectful adult instead of addressing it directly like a functional human being."
"...yes?"
"Terrible strategy."
"Sylas," Ethan warns.
"What! It is!" Sylas twists to face me fully. "Okay, listen. Auntie Sylas is going to give you some advice."
"Please don't call yourself that. It's weird."
"Too late, it's happening." He holds up a finger. "First: yes, give him space."
"Okay—"
"BUT." Another finger. "Not too much space. Space is good. A void is bad."
"That's... not helpful."
"I'm not done." Third finger. "Listen to him. Actually listen. Not just to what he says, but what he's not saying."
Ethan nods. "That part's important."
"Yes, listen to him," Sylas agrees.
"Okay, space but not too much, and listen. Got it."
"AND." Sylas's smile turns wicked. "If that doesn't work..."
"Oh no."
"Fuck him into the mattress."
"Sylas!”
"I'm serious! Get him boneless and pliant, and then—" Sylas mimes pinning someone down. "Use that big body of yours to hold him to the bed until he tells you what's going on. Can'trun away if he's trapped under two hundred and some delicious pounds of golden retriever."
I drop my face into my hands. "I can't believe this is my life."
