Tay can't recall the last time they spent a day not thinking of Julian. Why would they? Julian is - well. He's everything.
Julian's painted into every corner of Tay's life; his fingerprints trail over the crystal glass of Tay's heart, streak through the bits of their soul they keep hidden away. There's no piece of Tay that Julian's left unmarked - not that he knows that.
"Julian," Tay says lightly, spring sun making them both glow golden. "I love you."
"Love you," Julian echoes. His eyes scrunch up, little happy slivers.
Tay knows, deep down in their gut, that the way the two of them speak of love is different. The gaping maw of that difference stares back at them as Julian kisses their cheek, skipping off to flirt with the woman eyeing him at the bar one night, the man at the coffee shop the next day.
Love you, Julian says. But - he doesn't mean it, like Tay does. Isn't distracted by it, persistent buzz of affection and soul-ache, feeling the warmth of Julian's love like they’re wrapped in silk voile. Muted touch through featherweight fabric.
It's enough, though. Having Julian like this is enough. If they can't remember the last time they didn't think of Julian, it's only because they spend nearly every day together. The bright spark of his laughter fills Tay up, like they’re a little teapot. It's enough.
(They tell themselves it's enough.)
There are moments where Tay thinks- maybe. Maybe if they take Julian's hand, press lips to the palm, Julian will understand; will reflect the fractious light of Tay's love back to them.
Or maybe, Julian won't. Maybe the soul string tying them together is really just spider silk, a wisp of illusion that Tay's chased after with hope withering slow and soft in their chest. So Tay bundles all their maybes up, tucks them away. Adds to them every now and then.
It's a summer day when one maybe comes true.
"Wow," Tay says. The words taste like mangled steel, sharp in their mouth as they work to make them sweet. Make them happy. "Sounds like you really like him."
Tay’s heart is bruising deep purple-blue, breath stoppered up in their shallow lungs. Did it really have to be this maybe?
"He's lovely," Julian sighs, a little lovestruck, a little moon-eyed. Tay thinks that hurling themselves through the very pretty crystal window across the restaurant would hurt less than this. "Third date's the charm, right?"
But - there's something in Julian's voice, then, as he looks at Tay. The maybes in their chest flutter. Small. Annoying.
"Right," Tay says. "Yeah."
"Yeah," Julian echoes.
Ollie comes over that night, shuffles Tay over to the couch and lets them cry themselves out in earnest against his shoulder.
"Babe," Ollie rumbles. "It'll be okay." Tay can't really speak but, they know. It'll be okay because they'll still have Julian they way they’ve always had him, and it’s enough, it is, and-
the door buzzer rings.
"Expecting someone?" Ollie asks, patting their back. Tay's confused, because they’re definitely not.
They take Ollie's proffered tissue to wipe their eyes and nose, letting Ollie get up to answer. Tay sees him check the video feed, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Who is it?" Tay rasps.
"It's Julian," Ollie says calmly, granting access from the keypad.
"Wha-" Tay barely has the space to scramble upright before Ollie's opening the door, the click of Julian's boots sounding down the corridor. He appears in the doorway a moment later, flustered and breathing heavy.
"I'll be outside, okay?" Ollie says, glancing at both Tay and Julian to check with them. Whatever he sees in Julian's eyes, he nods, satisfied, before slipping into his shoes and stepping outside. The door snicks shut behind him.
Anticipation stretches between them like an aggressive rubber band; Tay's afraid of when it snaps.
"You were crying," Julian blurts out. His forehead furrows with a frown.
Tay's laugh startles out of them, rusted and clanging around their mouth on the way. "Yes." Julian's jaw works, clenching down around words. Tay watches the way he arranges them together, then throws them all away.
"Why?" Julian finally asks.
Tay regards him for a long moment. He’s still so beautiful, even as he’s fidgeting in his impatience. He’s clenching his jaw like he’s anticipating needing to put up a fight, all that energy wiring through his body, his cute little fingers clenching into fists at his sides.
Tay sighs. They’re a little tired of the maybes, having lived with them so long. Perhaps it’s time to let them rattle loose of their cage.
"Why are you here?" Tay asks in reply. Julian comes closer, boots kicked off. His socks are mismatched - Tay's been looking for those.
"Because," Julian says. "Because I looked at him over the table and-" he blows out a breath. Comes ever closer. Stops with his feet tucked in between Tay's. His eyes are open in a new way, and they see something they haven't before, peeking out at them. The maybes shatter and crack somewhere in the ether of Tay’s body, split apart to make way for new growth.
"And he wasn't you," Julian says. He settles himself down into Tay's lap, a familiar place, made new with the certainty of Julian's words. He breathes them again over Tay's cheek, maps the swell of it with his thumb. Their eyes are level, and shine with the same light. "He wasn't you."