16. Talk

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Nezumi couldn't sleep.

          He was used to insomnia—life on the road practically necessitated it—but his restless mind tonight had nothing to do with fear of attack and everything to do with the boy sitting not ten feet from where he lay.

          Shion had silently taken watch fifteen minutes ago. The confusion rolling off him had prickled Nezumi's skin, but Nezumi refused to meet his eyes or broach the subject of what happened in the other warehouse. Shion must have known better than to ask, but Nezumi could feel the weight of his stare burning the back of his neck.

          He wanted to rewind time. Go back to earlier this morning when he was shopping in the little convenience store and contemplating the cool morning. Everything was simple then. Or... Well, OK, not simple, as two superpowered teens running from a megalomaniac pharmaceutical company was far from every day, but it was at least familiar. Routine.

          Now everything was a mess.

          He kissed me. Nezumi's stomach performed a nauseating backflip. I kissed him. His cheeks heated. Damn it. Nezumi tried to inconspicuously pull his threadbare blanket up to hide his face from the night.

          This wasn't what he needed right now. Nezumi had always prided himself on being more mature than your average teen. Getting caught up in the moment and kissing the boy you lived with, without thinking of the consequences, was the epitome of teenage stupidity. That he and Shion would have to talk about the incident was unavoidable, but Nezumi was determined to put it off until the very last second.

          How was he supposed to talk to Shion about it when he didn't know what to say?

          Nezumi was not innocent. He had kissed people before, and even done more than that, but those instances were always under the understanding that it was a distraction only. He had barely known his other partners. The relationships were transient, casual and lasting only as long as he could stay in one place.

          But Shion was not some boy he had picked up outside the laundromat. Over the last few weeks, he had gotten to know Shion well. He was quick-witted, easy tempered, brave, and now powerful and newly self-possessed. He was a good balance to Nezumi's surly, paranoid temperament, and Nezumi hadn't felt so at ease in another's presence in years. He trusted Shion to watch his back, and he enjoyed their conversations. Despite his stubborn refusals and rebuffs, Nezumi liked Shion.

          But did his liking translate to romance?

          His subconscious mind seemed to think so, seeing as he had kissed himself into this situation. But since the slip-up, Nezumi's rational mind hadn't stopped listing all the reasons getting involved with Shion was a bad idea.

          I hate this. Nezumi wanted to throw a tantrum on the floor, or stomp around in the cold dark of the woods. Something—anything—to dispel the restless energy building in his limbs.

          "Nezumi?" Shion's voice was soft and sad, and it sent shivers down his spine. "Are you still awake?"

          Nezumi stared resolutely at the crusty concrete wall.

          "...I think you are. You don't have to say anything; just listen. OK?"

          Shion shifted behind him. Nezumi tensed, but nothing happened and the air was still and quiet for a moment.

          "I know that you're a private person," Shion began, "and that it's hard for you to get close to people. With the life you've had up until now, it makes sense that you wouldn't trust many and you wouldn't want to form attachments, since the Lab is dangerous, and you're never sure when you'll have to pick up and run again."

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