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Hakeem’s pulse kicked once, hard. He wasn’t sure if Antonio meant to remind Hakeem of his age. Or possibly remind himself.

Antonio let the silence stretch just a second too long before adding, almost lazily, “Late October’s looming ahead of you.”

That was specific enough now to feel aimed.

Hakeem looked at him. “Why are you so interested in my birthday?”

Antonio’s expression barely shifted. “I’m interested in whether you’ll survive it.”

It could have been a joke.

Maybe it was a joke.

There was amusement in his voice. But there was also that other thing Antonio carried so naturally that Hakeem was starting to think it might just be built into his face: a certain vocal tone that made everything sound one degree more private than it should have.

Antonio stepped around him toward the kitchen. “Try not to make anything dramatic out of it.”

Hakeem let out a short laugh of disbelief. “That feels rich coming from you.”

Antonio glanced back over his shoulder. “Does it?”

He kept walking.

Hakeem stood in the living room listening to the soft retreat of Antonio’s footsteps and felt the whole night arrange itself inside him in a way he disliked.

Every piece of what just happened, alone, was manageable. Explainable. Even ordinary if you were insistent on interpretation. But together they made a suggestion that made Hakeem shiver. Hakeem had the distinct feeling of being caught, but he wasn’t sure in what. He felt stupid for noticing and stupider for not noticing more.

He went upstairs, shut his bedroom door, and sat on the edge of his bed with his phone in his hand. For a minute, he stared at the screen without opening anything.

Then he created a new note.

Need Actual Proof

He looked at the title, then nodded once to himself. An improvement.

Not feelings or pure vibes. Not the increasingly untenable fact that Antonio could look at him for half a second and leave him feeling both threatened and increasingly turned on, which was not a category Hakeem wanted to dignify by naming out loud.

He started typing.

Things I know:

— Mercy House on shelf with margin notes

— repeated weird jokes about me surviving to late October

— attentive

— maybe flirting? unfortunately unclear

He stopped and stared at that last line. Then, because honesty in private costs nothing, he left it.

Under that, he added:

Need to find out:

— whether Antonio is just Like This™ or if something is actually wrong

— something concrete enough to say out loud without sounding insane