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“Love’s no a bad thing, Si,” Mark said. Simon turned away to watch the streets. Mark tilted his head, almost imperceptibly. “Dae ye think it is?”
Simon let out a short huff of air, just short of a sigh. “Ah think… Ah think it’s a fleeting thing. It disnae last.”
“Fir ainebody?”
Simon shrugged. “Fir us. Oor mates. Ivery cunt Ah ken. Even my folks.”
Mark thought a second, also looking out to the streets. “Ah think my folks are in love. Guid love, no fleeting.”
“Guid fir them.”
Mark hummed, half-apologetic. “Ah didnae mean it like that. Jist- Dae ye think it’s fleeting fir iveryone in the world? O jist oor circle?”
“All the same tae me, isnae it?”
Mark looked down. They were high up. He didn’t necessarily have a fear of heights, but he didn’t want to die, and falling from this height would be certain death. Managing to survive a fall from this height would probably be worse than death.
“It disnae have tae be fleeting,” Mark mumbled, looking back up to the streets. He could see Simon turn to him. “It’s oor awn life, aye?”
“Fir the best, no? Cannae have ainething too comfortable aroond here. Cunts disappear. Cunts leave. Cunts die o git arrested. Could be ye o’ Ah in the morn. It’s always gaun tae be the same,” Simon spoke softly.
Mark looked down at the space between them. They were close, but still had about half a meter between them. Mark nudged his hand closer to Simon. “Ah willna disappear, leave, die, o git arrested, if ye willna.”
Simon looked down at Mark’s hand. He smiled a genuine smile as he looked to the streets. Mark felt his chest tighten. Simon nudged his own hand over Mark’s.
“Aye.”