For Elio

[latermaybe]

As summer drew to a close, the new semester gearing up and the anniversary of my third year in Darrow approaching, I couldn't help but think back on my conversation with Sihyun at Pride. My reaction to the news of his engagement has nagged at the back of my mind since the Spring. Even more so, I was rattled by my later admission that the planning of a wedding, and the stress and attention it would bring, was something I instinctively shrank from.

It made me quiet and contemplative, and while I could hide such things in the first weeks of the semester, I knew now that Elio would've noticed.

So, tonight, I made tea. I bought a box of pastries we both liked. Our dinner was small, intimate, as it usually was. Comfortable. Content. I was happy, and making a change felt unwise, but I knew we were both waiting for the other to do something. Say something.

And it needed to be me.

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[speakordie]

I give Oliver time.

It’s all I’ve tried to do since he came back. Repeatedly, I stamp down on my impatient urges and my own neediness, and I give him time while still being there, ready for him.

The semester starts and Oliver gets quieter, more thoughtful, and for a while I simply chalk it up to him being back at the university. I am dealing with my own ennui, after all. Having all my evenings free isn’t something that I’ve ever dealt with in Darrow, and it’s strange to suddenly have so much unscheduled time. I miss Keynote sometimes, but I know that I made the right choice. Besides, I know that I’m welcome to pop in any time, and they’ll always make space for me there.

Eventually, I get the sense that whatever is troubling Oliver goes beyond simply starting up school again. He doesn’t seem upset, really, so I try to give him space to work through it. I give him time, but I am getting close to asking him about it.

After dinner, Oliver brings our tea and pastries and I am distracted immediately by a sticky bun, tearing it apart and licking my fingers in a way that Mafalda would have smacked my hand for.

“How did you know that I was craving one of these?” I ask him, cheeks hollowing around the tip of my thumb to clean it before reaching for my tea.