[Wilhelm has been here before, too. At the edge of a precipice with no way down but to jump. Lifting his gaze, he finds himself pierced by those golden eyes he's spent so much time getting lost in.]

I like you, Rhy. [It sounds more like a surrender than a confession.] A lot. I...

[His voice catches on the lump forming in his throat, and he tries to push everything out in a rush to beat the prickling gathering behind his eyes. He has let go of the teacup to fuss with his hair instead.]

I don't expect you to feel the same way. It's okay, I don't need you to. I know what this is, what we've got, and we're never going to be serious. And...that's okay. I'm okay with that.

[Except, the more he says it's okay, the more sharply he realizes that...it's not, really. Wilhelm has been lying to himself for a long time now. Somewhere along the way, he fell into the habit of pretending, when Rhy kissed him and caressed him, that it was only for him. All this time, he was waiting for Rhy to want him outside of bed too.]