know you wouldn’t say this in public—that maybe you’re too nice to say it at all. But fuck Cleveland. They didn’t know what they had, or if they did, they didn’t value you the way they should have. Either way, they shouldn’t have traded you like that.” Eitan’s mouth—the part of his face Akiva had spent the past few weeks both obsessed with and studiously avoiding—curved up. Akiva wanted to kiss him there, to learn the exact topography of his smile, something real, something lingering.
