“Hey.” Akiva pulled back and rested his forehead against Eitan’s. His cheeks were warm for reasons he’d like to chalk up to embarrassment—they really were being photographed—but he knew weren’t just attributable to that. He pitched his voice low. Some things were for performance and some were to be whispered in the space between them, something so new and uncertain that Akiva wasn’t sure if it could even make it across that bare distance. “Hey,” he said again, like that was the only word he knew.
