Season one of Night Mist hit CyberVids to immediate and surprising success. The next season was green-lit within weeks and filming would begin soon after. Rosemarie had continued in a slow decline, but she was still holding on.

Louis was grateful to have something to keep him occupied, but he was starting to feel restless again. Spending time with David and Rosemarie was great—even if they actually were building a bookshelf that took up half the living room—but he couldn’t help but wonder if he should be doing something more. He felt like he was wasting time. No matter what he was doing, he felt like he should be somewhere else doing something else. The only respite was when he was with David and Rosemarie.

Since they’d met, David and Rosemarie had really built up a good rapport—to the point where Louis sometimes felt left out of their shenanigans. Rosemarie still ignored his relationship with David, but that was nothing new. She no longer shot them disapproving or worried looks, but she didn’t ever really acknowledge them, either.

Despite that, David had slipped neatly into their lives, becoming a part of the household with surprising ease. He still technically lived in the yellow room at the B&B, but Rosemarie had prepared the guest room for him in case he wanted to spend the night.

Louis wasn't sure how to take that gesture. The fact that she clearly accepted David into her home was promising, but the guest room felt like a moratorium, too.

It hadn't been an empty gesture, either, though. David often did spend the night and Rosemarie had never seemed less than pleased with it. Louis thought she liked both David's vibrant energy and the fact that he kept Louis occupied. So far, neither David nor Louis seemed inclined to go any further than kissing with Rosemarie in the same house, but Louis couldn’t help his mind from going back to that night after they had made love in that tiny yellow bed at the B&B.

He wanted that again. He craved it like he craved air, but he wasn’t sure that David felt the same. The experience hadn’t scared him off, which was encouraging, but David hadn’t made any move to repeat it either. Not that they'd had much of an opportunity between the DIY construction and the preparations for the official start of filming.

“I can’t wait to start filming again,” David said one day, grinning at something on his phone. He was sprawled across the couch, feet propped up on Louis's lap as Rosemarie sat on the wingback by the TV. Louis gave his foot a squeeze, making him jump and send him a playful scowl.

“I can’t wait for the show to end,” Louis groused.

“It was your choice to take the job, Lou,” Rosemarie scolded. “Don’t complain when you had a choice.”

“Fine,” Louis said. He didn't know why he complained, either. It wasn't like he wasn't glad David was enjoying himself. And he had a lot to be grateful for, he knew it.

But he still didn't want to be here.

At the time, it hadn't really felt like a choice, either. It still didn't. In the most literal sense, he could leave. But if he did, there was no certainty that she would be here when he got back. It was growing more and more obvious just how sick Rosemarie really was. Louis's whole body recoiled from that thought and he let out a long breath.

“I don’t understand what you have against it,” David said, sitting up and swinging his feet off of Louis's lap.

Louis looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. “It’s a TV production. The budget is only so-so, the resources are limited, and there’s always a chance of cancellation. It's just popular media.”

“Why does that make it less worthy of our time?” David argued. “The cast and crew, Nabila and Jennifer and everyone else, pour their hearts into this. It’s art just as much as a big budget film. More so, maybe.” David looked legitimately irritated. It wasn't an expression he wore often and Louis found he did not care for it, but he couldn't make himself back down, either.

“I’m not denying their passion," he said, "I just don’t share it.”

He could tell that David was only getting more wound up, but David didn’t get angry often enough for Louis to know how to defuse it. Part of him didn't want to diffuse it.

“Then why are you here?” he asked, then, seeming to realize what he said, amended it to, “Why did you take the job? It’s not like you need it.”

“It’s a job,” Louis countered with the same words David had used about why he acted in so many commercials. “You don’t have to have passion to do a job.”

“But if you have the choice, shouldn’t you choose the projects you are passionate about?”

Louis raised an eyebrow. He would love to choose a project he was passionate about, but that wasn’t an option here. It had been sheer luck that there had been anything shooting within a fifty-mile radius of Midtown. He was, admittedly, lucky to have gotten the job at all. It would have been worse to be here without work to occupy his mind.

“I mean,” David said, “that you should leave projects you aren’t passionate about to the people who are.”

Louis stiffened. So that was the issue. “Nabila seemed to think that I would be suffice,” he snapped. “She didn’t have to choose me, David; I wasn’t the only one auditioning. But she did, so here I am.”

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t have a choice in the matter,” David returned.

"While you two argue, I'm going to run to the store,” Rosemarie said, looking up from her phone.

She didn’t seem all that concerned about the topic or that the two of them were arguing—she seemed to think they were being silly.

Louis scowled, wondering if she was hoping they'd break up or maybe it was just that she only knew half of the context. That was uncharitable, of course. Rosemarie wasn't that petty. He was just in a bad mood all around.

“What are you so upset about?” Louis demanded once Rosemarie had left.

“It seems unfair. You are taking an opportunity that you don’t even want when there are other people who would die for this job.”

“Are you talking about yourself? Because, if you recall, I got you the fucking job,” Louis said. “Whatever other actors wanted the job, you got it. Did that stop you from taking it?”

David’s face went pale, and he didn’t answer for a long time. Louis swore internally at himself. That wasn’t what he had meant, but it was too late to take it back now.

“You're right,” David said, not meeting Louis's eyes. After another moment, he shook his head and stood, stepping past Louis and heading for the stairs.

“Where are you going?" Louis called after him.

"I'm going home," he said.

There was a strange part of Louis that wanted to protest that David couldn't have another home. That he belonged here with Louis, even when he was mad, but that was ridiculous. This might be the most serious relationship that Louis had ever had, but how much did that really mean? David didn't belong to him—didn't even really belong with him, if this was any indication.

"You don’t have a car! I’ll drive you home,” Louis said, standing to follow him downstairs.

“Don’t bother, Louis,” David said, stopping him at the stairs with an expression Louis had never seen him wear before. "I'll get myself home. I think if I keep looking at you right now, I might punch you.”

With that, he stormed down the stairs. Louis winced as he heard the front door slam behind him.

Louis pressed his fingers to his eyes. How had their quiet morning turned into this so quickly?

But he knew, of course. Louis knew exactly how it had turned into this. Louis was unhappy and he had taken it out on everyone around him. This was why he didn't do relationships. He was not a pleasant person to be around long-term.

It wasn’t fair of him, not in the least, but he couldn’t always stop himself, either. Sometimes he just wanted to see the world fall apart in some real way that would externalize some of what he felt. That was his problem, though.

"Fuck," he muttered, the sentiment directed at nothing in particular.

It wasn’t David’s fault or Rosemarie’s. Rosemarie probably recognized he was in a Mood. That was probably why she left. It would have been more merciful for her to tell Louis to leave. Then she and David could have had a nice afternoon while Louis sulked.

Even now, Louis had relatively little to complain about, so why couldn’t he just keep his fucking mouth shut? What exactly was he hoping for?

Louis sat down at the top of the stairs, staring at the enormous picture of a daisy that sat over the landing. If he followed David, he was pretty sure he'd actually get that punch he was promised. Besides, David had a cellphone. He could call a cab. It might take a while, but the part of him that was stung by what David said was a little vindictively satisfied by that.

Decided, Louis returned to the couch and pulled out a book while he waited for Rosemarie to return so they could make dinner.

After an hour passed, Louis began to worry a little. The store was only a ten-minute drive from the house, it shouldn’t have taken her this long to go there and back.

It was possible that she was just trying to avoid their argument, or that she'd gotten distracted—Rosemarie did love shopping—but there were other possibilities, too.

Louis's heart started to pound and his hand shook as he pulled out his phone.

What if she had gotten sick or collapsed in the middle of the store just like last time? Should Louis really let her out of his sight at this point? She was a grown woman and she was still insistent about her independence, but she was also... Well, she needed him to look out for her, too.

He should call her. He should just call her and she'd either answer or she wouldn't. But either way, he'd know what to do next. Instead, he opened the GPS app he'd so resented at first and checked for her location. She was home. A whole new slew of scenarios flashed through his head.

Louis practically vaulted down the stairs, opening the door just in time for him to nearly run her over. He pulled up short and she gasped, but her surprise quickly turned into the expression she always wore when she was about to scold him.

“What did you do now?” she asked. “I found David walking down the street. Were you really going to make him walk back into town? Do you know how far that is?”

“I wasn’t. I offered to drive and he refused. He has a phone, he could call a cab,” Louis said.

Rosemarie gave him a look like it was somehow his fault that David was stubborn.

“Well, I gave him a ride back into town,” she said. Her expression changed, then, into something closer to worry than it had been before. “What did you say to him, Lou?”

Louis shifted uncomfortably. He didn't really want to repeat what he'd said after she left. “Why?”

She pursed her lips, handing him the bag of groceries she was holding. “He just wasn’t himself.”

Louis's stomach knotted and he shrugged. “We had a fight, is it so strange that he’s upset?” He didn't point out that he, too, was upset, or that he was a little irritated that she was scolding him instead of asking if he was all right.

“It is a little strange,” Rosemarie said, leading him back upstairs. “I’ve never seen him quiet for so long.”

It wasn't strange. Louis knew exactly why David was upset.

“I’ll apologize tomorrow,” he said, watching Rosemarie closely to see if that was the reaction she was looking for.

“That’s a start,” she said. “I’m not going to tell you that you shouldn't fight; everyone has disagreements now and then. Just don’t let your stubbornness make you forget how important he is to you.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Louis glared at her. “You’re my sister, why are you taking his side?” Louis demanded, probably more petulantly than the situation warranted.

“I'm always on your side, Lou," she said, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. Louis allowed it, enjoying the affection even though he was irritated. "Honestly, I'm not sure what exactly you two were arguing about or why it set you both off. But I do know you. I know how much you will regret it if you push him away."

Louis stepped back and busied himself unpacking the bag from the store. There was an instant meal and a package of meat. Louis made a face, but didn’t comment as Rosemarie began to prepare dinner.

“I haven’t forgotten,” he muttered after so long that Rosemarie looked a little confused for a moment before she smiled at him and nodded.

Now that the emotion of the moment was gone, Louis could feel the beginning tendrils of worry starting to creep through him down to his fingertips. It wasn’t like they hadn’t disagreed before, but he knew he'd hit a sore point for David.

Even if he wanted to mend it, though, he wasn't sure how. He wasn't sure if David would even want to anymore. There was a part of him that wondered if this was the end of whatever they'd had between them.

He would call in the morning and apologize. Maybe he could try to visit if David would let him.

*****

David, as it turned out, was excellent at holding grudges.

He had never thought of himself as a particularly spiteful person, but every time he saw Louis's number on the caller ID, his finger automatically declined it. He didn’t even bother letting it go to voicemail. He didn’t want to hear what Louis had to say.

Yet.

“You’re being petty,” Jennifer said for what must have been the fifth time this morning. The two of them were sitting in his room, Jennifer cross-legged on the bed with a catalogue of special effects supplies open on her knee and David slumped in the chair by the window. “I doubt he really thinks you only got the job at his behest. In fact, I don’t entirely believe that he actually said that to you.”

“Maybe not in those exact words, but he absolutely did say it. And he’s not even wrong,” David said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “He did get me the job. It really had nothing to do with me. I'm a hypocrite.”

“My understanding, and correct me if I'm wrong," by which she meant, I am aboslutely right and you should not correct me, "is that he asked Nabila to reconsider you after he watched The Wake of War and decided you were worth a shot. Is that not an indication that he appreciated your talent?”

“But he only watched it because you told him to,” David pointed out. “If you hadn’t both meddled, I would have been passed over just like every other fucking time.”

“Language,” Jennifer said with a fake gasp. "What would your mother say?"

David glared at her. “Like you can talk,” David said, though he felt guilty anyway.

Jennifer smirked. “I don’t have an image to maintain. Or, I do, but it’s not your image,” she said. "Or a mother who still has a genuine swear jar."

David buried his head in his arms and then promptly swore again when Louis's name popped up on his phone. Apparently he wasn't going to give up.

Jennifer cackled, seeming to enjoy his pain as much as usual.

“I don’t even want to see him, Jennifer,” he said. “How am I supposed to start working with him again come Monday?”

“You stop ignoring him, first,” Jennifer said, giving his phone a pointed look as she flipped the pages of her catalogue.

“I just said I don’t want to see him.”

“He might be trying to apologize,” Jennifer pointed out.

“I don’t want him to,” David whined. He wasn't even really sure Louis had anything to apologize for. He'd hurt David's feelings, but he'd hurt his feelings with the truth. And it wasn't like David hand't started it. "I also may have implied that he was being selfish taking a role he doesn't even want. And by implied I mean explicitly accused."

"Then you call him and apologize," she said.

"I don't want to do that, either."

Jennifer gave him that look she had when she was almost out of patience with him.

“I get that your feelings were hurt, but you need to talk to him and work it out. I cannot tolerate so much of you all the time. These last months with Louis monopolizing your time have been like a godsend.”

“Gee, thanks,” David said. “Good to know that my best friend doesn’t even want my company.”

Jennifer set aside her catalogue and stood up and then propped her hands on the arms of David's chair so she could loom over him in a way that made him feel distinctly wary. She studied him for a minute before giving his cheek a consoling pat, then immediately flicking him on the forehead.

“Davie, there is nothing wrong with using your connections to get work. That’s business. If you cannot tolerate people working on your behalf, you are never going to get anywhere. Do you want to be an actor or not?”

David glared, but Jennifer’s expression was completely serious so he answered. “Yes, of course I do. I’ve worked for this for years.”

“Then stop moaning about how you got your job and go fucking do your job. Instead, just be glad that there are people who want to see you succeed.”

David didn’t move from where he was slouched and Jennifer straightened with a huge sigh. She picked up his guitar from where he’d stashed it under the bed and dropped it in his lap.

“Then go be a musician.”

“I’m no good,” David said. “You’ve said so yourself.”

“I said your lyrics have no popular appeal. I said you’ll never be a rock star and you’ll never be a pop star. And you don't need natural talent to succeed. You could succeed if you wanted to. But you don’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What that means, is that if you really want something, it’s on you to take advantage of the opportunities you're given to get it. It’s neither mine nor Louis's responsibility to push you toward your dreams. If you want it, accept help where you get it and do the rest your goddamn self.”

With that, Jennifer spun around, heels clacking across the wood floor as she left David’s little yellow room.

David stared at the guitar in his lap for a long time.

He was being petty. He knew it. Louis probably was trying to apologize. That was the grownup thing to do. It's what David should be doing, but he was still sore from the comment, even if Louis didn't really mean it like that.

He had expressed over and over again that he believed in David, but it did little to stop the little voice of doubt inside of David from picking up on the words and twisting them.

David gave the guitar a quick strum, closing his eyes as he listened to the sound, tuning a couple of the strings until the chords rang true. Then he picked a couple notes.

Jennifer was right about music. David didn't really care to make it work. He was happy having this just for himself, just for the people closest to him. That was more than enough.

The action of it was soothing, too. It was something to capture the attention of both his mind and his body. David strummed, and as he did, he began to relax into it, humming a little as he settled on a tune. He sang the words softly, barely more than a murmur, but he let them carry his mind away from the present.

*****

Louis parked his car outside the B&B and called David's number again. Declined. Again.

David clearly didn't want to see or hear from him. He should probably give him some more time to cool off. Or maybe he was meant to just leave it at that? Louis's chest ached at that thought.

He was deciding whether he should leave when Jennifer Yang Marched out of the B&B looking positively furious. Louis gripped the wheel but rolled down the window when she gestured.

"You're here. Good. He's upstairs pouting," Jennifer said. Surprisingly, her anger didn't seem directed at him.

“Is he all right?” Louis asked.

“He’s just being David,” she said, as though that was explanation enough.

Louis wanted to go up immediately and demand an audience with David, but he also wanted more information. Especially information that might help him avoid making things worse. If Jennifer's bad mood wasn’t directed at him, she may share her intel.

"Is he—" Louis paused, not sure how to ask what he wanted to know. "Did he tell you what happened?"

Jennifer crossed her arms, eyeing him imperiously. "Something about you implying he couldn't get a job without your help."

Louis winced. "I didn't say—"

"Does it matter? Maybe that's not what you said, but that's what he heard." Jennifer shrugged, then. "Sometimes his hearing is pretty bad, though, since he has his head stuck so far up his own ass. Are you going to be stupid about this, too?"

Louis grimaced. "I said somethings I shouldn't have," Louis admitted slowly. "I want to fix things. I want to apologize. That's not what I meant, but I know how he is about the topic."

“Listen, I’m sure you both said things that shouldn’t have been said. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t need to work through his own shit himself.”

Louis hesitated then asked, "Do you want me to leave him up there, then?" He didn't want to leave David to figure anything out alone, but he'd defer to Jennifer's better judgement. Right now, Louis just wanted to see him. Desperately.

Even these past four days had bene torture without him and he wasn't sure he could make it through another three before they saw each other for work. He didn't want the next time they saw each other to be for work, either.

“No, you should definitely go see him,” she said. "He might not let you in the door, though. He's very childish when he's feeling guilty."

With that, Jennifer gave him a finger wave and climbed into her car.

Louis waited until she'd sped out of the lot before going in. He wasn’t sure whether he should try to call or text again to announce his presence. David would probably ignore him either way, so he didn't bother.

When he reached the door to the yellow room, he paused. A soft melody drifted from the room.

“Shoot,” he hard David mutter softly as an errant note played. Then he started again. The melody was simple and as familiar to Louis as the smell of Rosemarie's perfume or the house he'd grown up in.

Louis leaned up against the doorframe, eyes burning.

David didn’t have a beautiful voice, exactly, and some of the notes were harsh where the version in Louis's mind was always sung in Rosemarie’s soft voice, but Louis was utterly captivated. It felt significant that David was singing this song.

He rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, content to listen to David play forever. He must have been there for twenty minutes as David repeated the song again and again until it flowed smoothly and easily.

Louis shifted his weight to the other foot and the floorboard creaked. The music stopped with an errant twang of the strings. Louis flinched, he took a moment to smooth his shirt and his emotions then gave a short knock.

No answer.

Louis looked down at his feet. “I know you’re in there, David,” he said. "But I'll leave if you still don't want to see me."

There was another long silence. Louis pulled at his eyebrow. This was pathetic and probably pushing David's boundaries. He should leave and give David the space he wanted.

“The door’s unlocked," David's voice said, quiet but clear.

Louis sucked in a steadying breath, hoping that his emotions didn’t show on his face as he entered the room.

David was curled on the floor by the foot of his bed, a guitar clutched in his hands. He still looked angry and maybe a little nervous.

Louis cursed himself for not considering the fact that now was probably not the best time to invade David's music. He cursed his younger self for being rude enough that his words had left such a lasting impression on David.

“You play the guitar,” Louis observed softly, closing the door behind him and standing awkwardly in the archway to the bedroom.

“I don’t,” David said shortly.

He made no move to continue playing, but neither did he set the guitar down—possibly to give Louis the impression that he was in the middle of something and they would have to make this short.

Louis had no interest in making this short.

He wondered if this was how most people felt about other people, like they would die if they had to be alone for another day. It was unfamiliar to Louis. He’d always thrived in solitude, this new dependence on someone else’s company was unsettling.

“I heard you playing,” Louis said, ignoring his denial. “You’re good.”

“It’s just a hobby,” David said, looking away. He didn't seem to believe the compliment was sincere. “Did you want something, or are you just here to eavesdrop.”

“Sorry,” Louis said. “I didn’t mean to, I just heard you playing and couldn’t help it. That's Rosemarie’s favorite song.”

David’s expression softened. “I know.”

Louis stared at him, feeling unnervingly helpless as he tried to figure out where to start. There was so much hanging between them right now. Some of it was his fault, some of it David's, and some of it was nobody's fault in particular.

“I’m sorry,” Louis said at last, still standing awkwardly two steps from the door. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “That's why I'm here. I wanted to apologize. I know you don't need me to achieve whatever it is you want.”

“Right,” David said, though his tone was just the wrong side of sarcastic.

“I mean it," Louis insisted, looking down at David with all the sincerity he felt. "You are talented and hard working. You're a great colleague and an even better friend. I want you to succeed. I know that you resent it, but I still want to help you. And not because I think you couldn't do it otherwise, or because I think you deserve it, or even just because I want things to be easier for you.

"I want it for the rest of the world's sake, too." He felt like an idiot standing here saying these things, but something about David always possessed him to share more of himself than he was comfortable with. "I think the world would be better for knowing you." He hesitated a moment before admitting, thickly, "My life has certainly been better for your part in it."

Louis felt his face heating and he shifted uncomfortably. David, too, was turning red from his collar to his hairline. The two of them waited in awkward silence for too long until David finally shifted, patting the bed by his shoulder.

"Sit down, you're making this awkward," he moaned, burying his face in the crook of an elbow.

"My apologies," Louis said wryly. "But I mean it."

"Fine," David said, patting the bed again, the movement urgent enough that Louis chuckled. He did sit, though.

"Jeeze," David grumbled. "I was going to be mad at you for at least another day."

"You're not mad anymore?"

"I can't be mad when you say things like that! Now I'm just embarrassed and sort of wondering if you are sound of mind."

Louis chuckled, pressing his knee into David's shoulder. David leaned back into him and Louis felt all the tension from the last four days drain out of him.

"I'm sorry, too," David said, tilting his head back to look up at Louis. "I shouldn't have said all of that. I know why you're here and I'm glad you took the job. Really glad. I think about it sometimes—how, if it weren't for all of the convoluted circumstances didn't put us both here, we probably wouldn't have ever met. We'd have lived within five miles of each other but we never would have met."

He hummed in agreement. Louis thought about that sometimes, too. He'd come up with a million different ways that they might have met anyway. Working together, in Avery's bookshop, or just bumping into each other on the streets. But each one of them had its flaws and uncertainties. If they hadn't met here, would David have ever have considered talking to him, even if he had recognized him? Would Louis have given David the time of day?

"I got lucky," Louis murmured, then, unable to help himself, he combed his fingers through David's hair. David smiled and Louis stroked his cheek.

"Me, too!" David said, laughing. "I can think of all sorts of places that we might have run into each other, but I get stuck on the part where we'd actually talk to one another. It would have been a real shame."

Louis felt that was an understatement. Louis glanced down at the guitar that was still sitting in David's lap.

"Will you play it again?" Louis asked tentatively. He was worried that he might break the truce, but he wanted to hear David play again.

David stiffened, biting his lip as he staring up at Louis with those huge blue eyes. His fingers turned white on the frets of the guitar and Louis gave him a half-smile, threading his fingers through his hair again.

"You don't have to. But I'd like to hear you play again if you'll let me."

David opened his mouth, and Louis was sure he was going to refuse, but after staring at Louis for another moment, he just nodded. Slowly, he straightened up, settling the guitar on his thigh and leaning back against Louis's leg.

Louis stayed completely silent as David began strumming the chords.

His voice was high and tight at first, nothing like it had been when he was alone. Louis found himself playing with the hairs at the nape of David's neck. The touch seemed to ease something in David and he relaxed into it, his voice growing stronger and easier. Louis closed his eyes and listened.

As the music gradually came to a stop, Louis opened his eyes, ignoring the way they stung.

"Thank you," Louis said, his voice a little thick. David turned to look up at him, his eyes warm and sweet.

Louis inhaled deeply and wondered how he had not realized before this moment that he was in love with David.