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Summary
Jo’s nod is the go-ahead, so Nicholas goes ahead. “Ah, sakura, Jo!”
“You need stronger jokes than that.”
To do what, Nicholas has no clue. Probably not to woo Jo, but it isn’t like he wants to woo Jo—if he did, he’d use better jokes. Better placed hands and flirty smiles.
Maybe it’s the eclipse, maybe it’s the rain. Maybe it’s the soft way Jo puts his hand through Nicholas’s hair and lets Nicholas do the same for him.
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This thing inside Jo—it’s not the innocent kind of affection people joke about. It’s not innocent at all. It’s feral. It’s patient. It wants to crawl into Yuma’s ribs and live there.
But what is he supposed to say? That he feels sick with it? That Yuma’s smile sometimes makes him want to cry? That he’s built an entire religion out of restraint and it’s still not enough?
