“What do you mean?”
“Your parents? What about them? How do they feel about you extending your travels?”
“I’m an adult; I can go wherever I want.”
Pyxlevir wanted to demand to know about their matebond and what this meant for their future, but he hesitated. Was it too needy or overwhelming to bring up their changed relationship? Maybe it was safer to focus on their friendship instead.
“What about me? Your best friend?” Pyxlevir asked, hoping he was the only one who noticed the tremor in his voice. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry or throw a few things across the room. As a normally calm elf, Pyxlevir wasn’t sure what to do with the extreme emotions he’d been plagued with since the day he discovered Gramlithyn was his other half.
“What does that mean?”
“I’m here. You’re traveling. In the past couple of weeks, we’ve hardly talked.”
“You don’t like camping. That’s what my trip is and will continue to be for now.”
“Did you pick a camping trip because you knew I wouldn’t want to go and you preferred that I be left out?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Come on, Pyx. Maybe I picked camping because I like it.”
“Since when?” Pyxlevir shouted. “How many times in the past twelve years have you gone camping?”
“You know the answer to that already.”
“Which is why I’m wondering what the hell is going on.”
“Everyone knows what you like and what you don’t.”
“Okay, I’m open about myself,” Pyxlevir replied.
“I don’t get why you’re yelling at me because I finally took a trip I’ve wanted to go on.”
“Maybe because you didn’t mention it to me until you’d already planned the entire thing. That’s weird, Gramlithyn. You usually tell me everything, yet you didn’t bother to discuss this whole camping thing at all.”
“Was I supposed to ask your permission?”
Pyxlevir was unprepared for the bite in Gramlithyn’s tone. “No, that’s not what I meant. I was trying to point out that we don’t normally have secrets.”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing. I wanted to take a trip. I still want to travel, so I’m going to do that.”
“For how long?”
“I already told you I don’t know.”
Swallowing thickly, Pyxlevir sat heavily on the edge of his bed. “What about everything else?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Was Gramlithyn being deliberately obtuse, or was he in complete denial about their matebond? Pyxlevir desperately wished he had some experience in relationships or at least a smidgen more maturity so he could figure out how to respond in a way that wouldn’t scare or traumatize either of them.
“I’m an elf,” Pyxlevir ventured.
“Yes, I know.”
“You’re an elf too.”
