Page 91 of Inevitable

Bas looked relieved for a second, and in that moment, Drew considered leaving things at that, but in the end, he found that he couldn’t just let it go.

“But I don’t know if I have it in me to keep going if I always have to wonder whether or not you’re going to do it again.”

Bas looked down at his toes and nodded, and for a moment, Drew was ready to scream, because of course Bas would do that. Of course he would give up.

But Bas shook his head.

“I won’t,” he said.

Drew wanted to trust Bas’s words, but…

“I don’t know if I can believe you.”

He hadn’t meant to be that harsh, but the words were already out. Instead of looking hurt, though, Bas just nodded like he’d expected that.

“Then I guess I have to make you believe.”

29

Drew’s nose twitched as the acrid, bitter smell of burnt food hit him the moment he opened the front door. The air had a slightly blueish tint to it that you could only start to see after a little while.

Sort of like the tension between Drew and Bas over the last few days. A cursory glance didn’t indicate that something was wrong, but just like the air in their apartment, their relationship was blue.

He made his way into the kitchen.

“I thought we agreed you weren’t allowed to dabble in cooking on your own,” he said.

Bas looked down from his spot on the chair below the smoke detector he was fastening back into the ceiling.

“I always thought you were overreacting with that rule, but I’m starting to think you might have a point.”

He looked up again. Beneath the light tone, everything was tense and brittle.

“What did you burn?”

“Rice,” Bas admitted as Drew went and opened the window. Bas pushed the chair back under the table once he’d climbed down.

“You hate cooking,” he said.

“I thought it would make for a more impactful statement if I made dinner from scratch,” Bas muttered as he poked at the charred mass in the pan. “But I guess pizza will have to do its best to deliver my point.”

“What point?”

Bas sent him a careful look, as if assessing if his words would be welcome or not. “That I love you.”

Drew’s heartbeat picked up. Leave it to Bas to casually drop the declaration between confusion, heartache, and burnt rice.

He couldn’t deal with it right then. It was easier to ignore the hopeful look Bas sent him. Instead, he sniffed the air.

“So that’s what love smells like. Huh. I never would have guessed.”

The flash of disappointment on Bas’s face was lightning quick and razor sharp. There for a second and gone in the next, leaving behind a wound filled with guilt.

Why can’t you just get over it? He’s here now. He’s sorry.

Hurt feelings had little to do with logic, though. And Drew was hurt. Hurt that Bas had even considered leaving. Hurt that he hadn’t trusted Drew to always choose him and Ezra. Hurt that Bas might do the same thing again.

Bas cocked his head to the side, all traces of sadness neatly tucked away as he poked at the burnt rice.