Malcolm Bright

“Nothing specific.” He feels like he said something wrong, provided an incorrect answer on a test, but he has no idea what the right answer is.

So he flounders on. Slow, considering, still testing his own reactions to his words. “I told you I didn’t… that I couldn’t be with anyone?”

His hold on Malcolm tightens a little. They’re next in line, but he doesn’t want to be interrupted yet. He’s so close, he can feel it. It’s maddening.

“…I told you I didn’t think I would be a very good partner.”

He does remember that. Like a ghost of an impression. Malcolm asking him out, the words muffled and fuzzy, and his own shock at being asked.

His throat feels tight. “I—”

I was scared.

The memory of the feeling is as choking as the feeling itself.

“Oh hi boys!” The barista behind the counter grins at them when they step up, and Neal automatically smiles in reply, trying not to panic at his inability to call up any details about this person.