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“Not surprised, just pleased to see you,” James said in a wild understatement. But the truth was that James was always a bit surprised when Leo returned. Not because he didn’t trust Leo or because he thought Leo didn’t care enough for him to come back, but because it seemed completely fantastical that a person like Leo came to James not only once, not only twice, but again and again. It was as if some rare bird had alighted on James’s finger—it would be mad to expect it to become a regular occurrence. “I’m delighted, if we’re honest.”
“To say that I like you best may be understating the case.” The sun was now low in the sky; they were sheltered from view by the wall and given privacy by the fact that few people would choose to take a stroll on a February evening that was getting progressively colder. “I like you so much that I feel certain you shouldn’t allow it. Somebody, at least, ought to stop me.”
Maybe that was what it took to build a life—the recognition that there was always going to be someone giving and someone taking. It didn’t have to be equal and it didn’t have to even make sense. It could be completely irrational and even misguided, and really that was the best hope Leo had, enough to make him feel downright optimistic as he and James stepped back outside into the chilly February day.
Don’t you see? You’ve made me totally unfit for that life. I can’t go around putting bullets in people when you look at me like—fuck, like I’m something special. And I can’t very well let other people put bullets in me when all the while I know how you’d feel about that. I’m just developing a strong anti-bullet stance all around, it seems.”
