“I can’t tell if that’s a ‘yes’ or—”
“Yes, fine, tell me,” Cassian clipped.
James rolled his bottom lip between his teeth as though considering how to reply.
Cassian’s heart fluttered from the sight. Even through his current wave of upset, he wished that he could suck on that plump bottom lip.
One minute passed.
Finally, James let out a long breath and said, “Alright, well, being in love, it feels like... like flying. And falling. It’s like flying and falling at the same time.”
“Oh, please, that’s nonsensical,” Cassian said, his stomach churning at the thought of James feeling something so fantastical about someone.
James huffed a laugh. “Exactly. Being in loveisnonsensical. It’s nonsensical, and it’s... oh, God, it’s bloodywonderful. It’s like finding a lost piece of yourself. Or like... like finding the perfect pair of shoes. Ones that fit well even before you break them in. And then they only feel better with time. More comfortable and more perfect.” He smiled wistfully. “It’s more than that, though. Falling in love is... it’s experiencing fluttery, happy feelings whenever the person is nearby. It’s feeling little lightning bolts whenever the two of you touch. It’s wanting to be near them constantly, even when you want to be alone. Love is... it’s like coming home.” Jamespaused. His cheeks turned a more vibrant shade of red, and he let out a soft laugh. “Or, well, that’s what it was like for me. I’m sure everyone is different.”
Cassian swallowed thickly. His stomach was still churning unpleasantly, as though they were traveling over rough seas, and he kept his mouth closed so that he wouldn’t retch. Hearing about James’s experience with romantic love was... Cassian had never experienced something so intensely uncomfortable.
He and James sat in silence for a while. Cassian continued to chew on his fingernails. And then James began to do the same.
“Sorry if that was too personal. But I wanted to be honest,” James said after another minute. “And I was only wondering whether you were in love because... well, I’m not really sure why.”
“Do you think that love—or, whatyouthink of as love—is needed for a successful marriage, then?”
“Not necessarily.”
“Because plenty of marriages are based on the things thatIsaid. And not... fanciful, nonsensical fluttery feelings.”
“I know.”
“Romantic love isn’t important to me. It’s not something that I’m interested in.”
James stayed silent. Cassian shifted on the cushion. James did the same. Another couple of seconds passed.
Finally, James’s eyes flickered over to him. “Is romantic love important to Ethel, though?”
Cassian took a moment to consider this. He’d never asked. But howcouldit be important? Cassian had never personally met someone whose marriage had been born from love. To Cassian’s knowledge, everyone in both his and Ethel’s circles had married for other reasons.
If romantic lovewasimportant to Ethel, though, then what was Cassian supposed to do?
“Are you implying that I should try to fall in love with Ethel?” he asked, making his voice as playful as possible (and perhaps slightly mocking as well). “Or that I should try to make her fall in love with me?”
Smiling sweetly, James looked back at the floor.
“I’m not sure if that’s how it works,” he replied quietly through an uneasy-sounding chuckle.
“How does it work, then?” Cassian asked in a singsong tone.
Despite Cassian’s unserious tone, James’s face suddenly became quite serious. His smile fell away as he furrowed his brow. After a brief pause, he looked up, and he and Cassian locked eyes. Cassian’s heart stuttered upon seeing the intensity in James’s blues.
“I think falling in love just... happens,” James said, his voice now barely above a whisper.
Warmth began to spread through Cassian’s chest, trickling upward and outward and moving over every other inch of him at once. Cassian’s first thought was that he ought to turn away. But he couldn’t. Instead, Cassian kept on looking into James’s eyes, and James kept looking at him, too, equally as intensely. It was like the man was searching for something, though Cassian couldn’t fathom what that something might be.
“Sorry,” James said softly.
Cassian shook his head, still not breaking eye contact. “For what?”
Through a half-laugh, James said, “I’m not even sure. For not being helpful, I suppose. Or, for... middling service, maybe. Middling friend service.”
