Things almost went back to normal after that.
David hadn't entirely gotten over Louis's comments, but he'd also been pretty rude himself. So the two of them tried to work past it mostly by ignoring it.
That was David’s favorite method of dealing with things.
Come Monday, they were back on speaking terms, if still a little more cautious than before. Despite that, David was relieved that he could be close to Louis again. He had to tone down some of his enthusiasm at work, but his stomach still bubbled with joy every time he saw him.
David felt a little like gloating about the fact that he’d snagged Louis Greene. Only, he really couldn’t do that at work. It would be unprofessional.
Clearly, David was not being as discreet as he had meant to be on set, though, because Nabila had already commented on how she didn’t mind them seeing each other, but they better keep working well together because the show depended on it. David assured her that there was nothing to worry about and Louis had said that if he was that unprofessional, she should fire him.
“I would,” she said, “but I’m talking more about David.”
“Hey,” David said, though, on second thought, that was probably fair. Louis did take the word professionalism to a whole new level. He started getting irritated if he forgot his lines more than twice in a day. David, on the other hand, forgot at least one line at least once a scene. Sometimes he just made them up when he couldn’t get them right.
Louis hated it, but Nabila hadn’t discouraged his ad-libbing.
It was good after so long to start getting back into character. Even Louis seemed to be liking the direction that the plot was taking.
“This season you’ll be meeting the devil himself,” Nabila had told them. “And the plot will focus less on the monsters and more on the Hellports.”
Louis had commented that bigger storylines were more interesting, and David had just been excited that they were working again. So far the reviews for the show were overwhelmingly positive. David hadn’t been able to make himself watch it, but he had promised that he’d go through the whole thing with Rosemarie one of these days.
He hadn’t had much of a chance to visit lately, though.
It wasn’t because he was avoiding Rosemarie, but he might have been avoiding Louis just a little bit since their fight.
Their argument had reminded David that things weren't simple between them. He had started to forget the boundaries and shape of their relationship. David didn't doubt that Louis cared for him, but the more he thought about it, the more he noticed the ways their lives just didn't match up. Their goals didn't match up.
In all likelihood, this was just an interlude in their lives. He should take it and be grateful that he'd had the chance to find something special with Louis and to learn things about himself that he didn't know before. They had set up their tentative lines when they started going out and, to all appearances Louis was, at best, distracted and, at worst, losing interest entirely.
He had not initiated anything since the night they slept together and David was beginning to wonder if he was misinterpreting something. Louis had seemed to enjoy himself, but David wasn't exactly an expert in the subject. Maybe he'd decided that that was all he wanted from David or that David wasn't able to give him what he wanted at all.
That was fair. David was the one who had told Louis he didn't want to hurt him, after all. Louis should guard his heart. It was only becoming a problem because David was nearly certain that he was falling in love with Louis. Hard.
David had really thought that things were progressing smoothly, but the last time he tried to ask Louis over to spend the night, he had refused, saying that he needed to stay with Rosemarie in case she needed him.
And Louis did need to spend time with Rosemarie. David knew that. But part of him was a little selfish, too. He wanted to pull Louis closer, even when he knew he should give him space.
Because, the truth was that Rosemarie was getting worse. David could see it every time he visited the house. Even the sight of the house that had seemed so warm and welcoming a few months ago had started giving him a gnawing sense of panic. He didn’t know how Louis coped.
The simple answer to that, of course, was that Louis didn’t have a choice.
None of them really did.
"Rosemarie wants you to come over for dinner tonight," Louis said, breaking David out of his thoughts. "She's making that stew you liked."
David's mouth watered at the thought. "Mmm, I'll have to get her recipe."
"Good luck," Louis said, snorting. "She won't even give me the recipe. I think it's a sort of hostage situation."
“But I’m far more persuasive,” David said, giving Louis the wide eyed, expectant look that he knew made it hard for people to refuse him.
Louis smirked, reaching out to brush his fingers across David's cheek before giving his ear a sharp tug. David yelped, putting a hand over his ear and scowling at Loius.
“You aren’t as cute as you think you are,” Louis said, incorrectly. “But," Louis continued, expression turning serious enough that it made David fidget, "there might be a way you could convince her.”
“Oh? Handyman work aside?”
“You have been working on that shelf for ages now and it’s just still a pile of wood. No, I mean you could trade her something.”
David raised an eyebrow, having no idea where Louis was going with that line of thought. Better judgement said he should redirect now, but curiosity won out. "What could I trade her?" he asked cautiously.
"Her favorite song," Louis said, meeting his eyes.
It took a moment for his meaning to click and, when it did, David's stomach dropped. "You haven't told anyone, have you?" he asked, voice a little faint.
"Told them what?" Louis asked, looking annoyingly calm. Though, of course, why wouldn't he be? What did Louis have to be nervous about? Actually, he probably thought David was the one being strange.
"That I play or sing or whatever," David hissed, grabbing Louis's arm and dragging him into a corner. "You can't tell people that. I don't play. Or sing."
Louis gave him a really peculiar look that had his eyebrows making a series of complex expressions. “You do play,” he said, though he had the courtesy to keep his voice down.
David shook his head.
"No, I don't," he said. "It's just a hobby."
Louis shrugged, his expression almost sad. "All right," Louis said. "It wasn't my place to ask. But, you know, she would appreciate it. And she wouldn't judge you, either."
David knew that. He also recognized he was being ridiculous about the whole thing. It did absolutely nothing to quell the queasiness at the idea of anyone hearing him play.
David looked at his shoes and settled a nervous hand on Louis's arm. “You still can’t tell anyone, okay? Promise.”
Louis looked disproportionately unhappy about that, but he nodded anyway. David's shoulders relaxed.
"It's your business who you tell," Louis said, "but, for what it's worth, I thought you were good. And I know it would mean the world to Rosemarie to hear you sing that song."
David grimaced. There was no way in hell he was letting anyone else hear him play. He hadn't even wanted Louis to know—he'd especially not wanted Louis know, but that cat was out of the bag.
"Sorry," Louis said, letting out a breath and clapping a hand on David's shoulder. "I'm being pushy. You don't have to play, David. Forget I asked. But, you'll come to dinner? That command was from Rosemarie and I'll pay the price for it if you don't."
David chuckled. “Of course,” he said, though he was suddenly a lot more nervous about it.
When he got back to his yellow room that evening, he couldn’t get what Louis said out of his mind. Rosemarie would love to hear him sing, no, it would mean the world to her.
He packed up his guitar and unpacked it five times before Louis dropped by to get him. He ended up chickening out, but he did slip his notebook into his back pocket before heading down to meet Louis.
“Rosemarie says that we need to watch Night Mist, because we’re fantastic in it,” Louis said dryly as he entered the car.
“I promised her I’d watch it after we finish filming,” he said. “I can promise nothing else. If I watch it now, I might be too mortified to go to work tomorrow.”
Louis smiled. “I know what you mean. I can’t watch any of the movies I’ve been in.
“Even Starfly?” David asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
“Especially Starfly. I can’t even hear the name without being overcome with crippling embarrassment.”
“You were so good in it, though!” David insisted.
Louis glanced over at him.
“You watched it?” he asked, sounding a little unsure in a way that shouldn't have been as cute as it was. Who knew even Louis Greene could be shy sometimes?
“I watched it every Saturday before bed,” he said, grinning. “You were my childhood hero.”
“Please tell me that's a lie,” Louis said, though David thought he was pleased at the praise.
David deliberated for a moment before saying, “I even wrote you a letter once.”
“A letter?” Louis asked carefully. “What did it say?”
“I don't remember, really,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. "It probably wasn't even legible. I had terrible handwriting."
"Have," Louis corrected and David laughed. "Well, thank you. It meant a lot to me."
David snorted, though even the idea that the thought meant something to Louis now made his heart thunder. “I bet you didn't even read it.”
Louis made a noncommittal noise. "I read everything they gave me. As you can imagine, though, certain things were... withheld, given that I was a minor and all the controversy surrounding it."
David shot him a horrified look, but he could, in fact, imagine the kinds of things that might have been sent after Starfly aired. Hell, some of the fan mail David had received made him uncomfortable, even as an adult. "The controversy was bullshit," David said easily. "I was such a fan of the show that I read the book, too. In a way, I have you to thank for my favorite hobby and the subsequent educational success I achieved thanks to it. My English teachers loved me."
"I'll be asking for your report cards before I decide whether I should be flattered or not," Louis said.
“It's a compliment!" David insisted. "Now, what other ideas do you have for getting Rosemarie’s recipe for beef stew?” David asked, steering the conversation beck to less dangerous territory.
“Ritual sacrifice to a demon?” Louis suggested.
David laughed. “You’re getting too caught up in Don Christoph.”
“I’m pretty sure Don Christoph would be warning against that course of action,” Louis reasoned.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
David smirked, reaching over to squeeze Louis's thigh, just because he could. “Ah, then this is your very own devious streak?”
“I suppose so,” Louis said, his right hand falling from the wheel to give David's a squeeze. David's chest warmed as their fingers slotted together, their hands coming to rest between them.
*****
“We’re home!” Louis called when he arrived. The scent of boiling onions and red wine was already filling the air. David made an almost obscene sound of pleasure and practically vaulted up the stairs into the kitchen. Louis followed at a more reasonable pace.
When he reached the kitchen, he found David balancing with one leg on a bar stool, the rest of his torso leaning all the way across the bar to accept a spoonful of stew from Rosemarie.
Louis walked into the kitchen and kissed his sister on the cheek before returning to the other side of the counter to sit beside David.
“Anything you want help with?” David asked, fingers drumming on the table.
Rosemarie shook her head, stirring her pot. “I’ve finished everything, thank you,” she said.
“How have you been? It’s been ages since you were over,” she said.
David chuckled uncomfortably. “Yeah, it’s been a little busy since filming started.”
“We still haven’t had the chance to finish our bookshelf,” she said with a disappointed sigh. David nodded, giving Louis a look when he rolled his eyes.
“We could work on it this weekend.”
“Let’s,” she said cheerfully.
Louis didn’t bother mentioning that David really should be practicing his lines and reviewing the script this weekend. David never reviewed his lines until the night before Louis had long since been forced to accept this fact.
The two of them cheerfully made plans for their woodworking project. Louis wasn’t sure if he was jealous or pleased that they got along well enough to spend time together without him. Not that he wouldn't be there, too, but it required subtlety. If he was too obviously there, he would be drafted into things involving wood shavings and paint.
“You could join us, you know,” Rosemarie said.
Louis raised an eyebrow. Case in point. “No, thank you,” he said, “I’ll leave that to the professionals.”
“Thanks,” David said cheerfully.
“I wasn’t talking about you. I’m implying that you should hire a professional.”
David laughed, but they continued making plans throughout the rest of dinner, even pulling out a notebook in the middle of the table and sketching out something to show Rosemarie. Louis watched them fondly, adding his own dry commentary where necessary or where he could get a rise out of one or the other of them.
All in all, it was a pleasant evening. The kind that filled Louis with both contentment and foreboding.
Rosemarie convinced David to stick around long enough to watch a movie with her—no vampires—before David insisted that he needed to get back. She finally let him go.
Louis hadn't asked David to stay and David hadn't asked to. He was a little disappointed, but he'd been trying not to push. Things had felt a little delicate recently and it wasn't like they shared a bed when David shared over—as much as Louis might like that.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” Louis told her before he and David left to get him back to his bed before midnight. Rosemarie shooed them off in good cheer.
David was unusually quiet as they drove back to Mrs. Hamish’s.
Louis didn’t mind silence in general, but David had once told him that it made him feel claustrophobic, so he couldn't help but shoot him a glance as they hit the main road.
“I haven’t seen her in a while,” David murmured after a while.
Louis hummed in acknowledgement. There was another pause and then David glanced sideways at him.
“How are you doing?”
Louis looked over in surprise. “Me? I’m fine.”
David nodded as though he'd already known Louis's answer, but his hand came over to rest on Louis's thigh as though he also knew that it was a blatant lie. Of course it was a lie. And of course David knew it was a lie. How fine could Louis really be?
“Thank you,” Louis said after a moment of silence. “For coming to dinner. She loves seeing you.”
“So do I,” David said, then gnawed on his lip in a way that drove his makeup artists to tears. “I didn’t think to ask you—do you mind if I come over this weekend?”
A kind of dread settled in Louis's stomach at the question. He didn't like that at all. He wished that David didn't feel the need to ask. He wouldn't have before their trip to Weldstone Harbor. He probably wouldn't have even after they'd had sex.
Though things between them had been different lately, Louis's feelings hadn’t changed. He still wanted David around as often as he could have him despite the impending doom looming over them. Maybe because of it.
“You’re welcome whenever you’d like to come over,” Louis said. Then, unable to help himself, “Why do you ask?”
David shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Louis wished he could take his eyes off the road long enough to study his expression.
“Things just seem different now,” David said at last. “It feels weird being there without you now.”
“Because of Rosemarie or because of us?” Louis clarified.
David hesitated. “Because of us.” David sighed. “It feels like it could be an invasion in a way it didn’t seem to be when we were friends. Rosemarie’s my friend, too, but she's your sister.”
That warmed Louis's heart. It was obvious that they were friends, of course, but to hear David state it so casually was kind of sweet.
"We're still friends," Louis said. "It's no different than before."
David made a humming sound that Louis couldn't interpret as either an affirmation or denial.
“You are always welcome, David, and you don’t need my permission, either. It’s not even my house,” he pointed out.
David looked at him for a moment. “Thanks,” he said, sounding more sincere than the invitation warranted.
In the lot to the B&B, Louis switched the car off and turned to David who had already unbuckled his seatbelt but made no move to leave. He watched Louis with a somewhat pathetic expression as though he was a dog being left at a shelter.
Louis reached over and pulled him in for a kiss. David leaned in compliantly, one hand coming up to tug lightly at Louis's hair. Louis sucked on his tongue and David made a delicious noise of surprise. David bit his lip lightly and Louis wished there wasn’t a center console between them so he could pull David into his lap.
David broke away, kissing the corner of Louis mouth as he spoke. “Want to come up?”
Lord, did he ever. But something caught the words in his throat. Leaving Rosemarie for any length of time just got more and more difficult for him. He was already away from her all day. The idea of leaving her all night, too, was too much.
“I can’t,” Louis said, voice rough. “God, I’d love to, but I have to get back.”
David looked like he wanted to pout as he sat back in seat, but then gave a little smile. “All right. Goodnight.”
"Goodnight," Louis returned.
David took Louis's hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles and Louis squeezed back. Then, in an incredible demonstration of willpower, he released David's hand and watched him make his way back into the B&B. David paused as he reached the door and gave Louis a little wave.
Louis's heart ached at the sight.
Half of him wanted to text Rosemarie that he wasn’t going to be back for a bit. She'd be asleep, anyway. He could stay for an hour or two, couldn't he?
If he did, though, she’d know exactly what he was doing.
She might have been taking this with far more grace than Louis would have expected—probably because of how much Rosemarie genuinely liked David—but he was still wary of saying too much about the details of their relationship. Even if it was only an implication.
He wasn't quite willing to rock the boat.
And David was a friend to her, too. He’d said so himself. Louis was loathe to make that situation uncomfortable for all of their sakes. He wanted to maintain this sense of peace between them for as long as he possibly could.
Even if every cell in his body wanted to follow David up to his room and take him in his arms again. Not even to have sex, really—though he wouldn't have said no to that, either—he just wanted to hold him and be held. He wanted to fall asleep listening to David's light snoring.
“Fuck,” Louis said, knocking his forehead to the steering wheel before straightening up and starting the engine again.
When he got home, Louis moved to the kitchen to do the cleanup, only to realize that Rosemarie had already done the dishes, including the glass that Louis had left on the edge of the sink to use later. He rolled his eyes, but just moved past it to see if the table needed to be wiped down or anything. It didn’t, but Louis noticed the notebook that David had pulled out at dinner.
Louis picked it up, flipping through the pages, too fast to read, but slow enough to see the neat rows of spiky script that filled the pages. There were a couple sketches, too, including the ones that he had done at the dinner table. Louis sighed and put the notebook on the side table. He would have to bring it to David tomorrow.
By the time he finished, it was just after midnight. Though Louis' body was tired, his mind didn't seem ready to shut off. He flopped down on the couch and stared at the grandfather clock on the opposite side of the room. It ticked solemnly in the dark.
The notebook kept catching his eye, too. After a while, he heard quiet footsteps coming from Rosemarie's room. Louis looked guiltily away from the notebook even though he hadn’t read a thing in it.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” Louis asked, scooting over so that Rosemarie could come sit beside him. She curled her feet under her and leaned over against Louis's shoulder.
"No," she said. "Couldn't sleep."
"Me neither."
They sat there in the dark for a long time, just listening to the ticking of the clock and the sound of crickets outside. Louis slowly began to relax until he thought he might be able to drift off if he closed his eyes.
“Lou, we need to talk,” Rosemarie said.
Louis felt like his heart stopped. His first reaction was to shut her down and tell her that there was nothing to talk about. Not with her voice in that tone. But the other part of him knew that they did need to talk, and that she deserved to talk about whatever she needed to, whether he was ready to hear it or not.
“What about?” he asked, though he could feel the sting of tears building behind his eyes.
Rosemarie took his hand and threaded their fingers together. It had been ages since he had held hands with anyone but David. He couldn’t help but think how well his sister’s hand fit in his. With David it was always a battle of which thumb went on top when their fingers intertwined. But Rosemarie’s hand fit naturally in his, so small and soft.
“About what happens when I’m gone,” she said.
Louis tried to say something, but couldn’t quite force his voice past the lump in his throat.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it," she said, then laughed. "I don’t either, but..." She stopped for a moment and Louis wondered if she was as near tears as he was. "It’s getting close.”
“Don’t say that,” Louis pleaded, voice cracking in the middle.
Rosemarie pressed a kiss to his shoulder and Louis squeezed her hand.
“We both know it’s true,” she said.
How was her voice so calm and steady when he felt like the world was splitting at the seams?
“After I’m gone, there are things that need to be attended to. I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“I’m not alone,” Louis said, though the words felt like a lie in his mouth. It wasn’t that he didn’t have people he could turn to. He knew he did, logically, but he didn’t feel like there was anyone just now.
“You aren’t alone,” Rosemarie affirmed, as though that wasn’t what he had just told her. “You have Avery and you have David, and I’m sure there are other people, too, if you’d ask for help.”
“I don’t want help,” Louis said, squeezing her hand a little too hard.
“All the legal documents have been prepared and you have my lawyer’s number,” she said. “You should have everything you need. My finances are in order, barring any unforeseen circumstances, at least. I’ve left everything in the drawer beside my bed, just check in there after I’m gone. I want this to be as easy on you as possible.”
“Easy on me?” Louis let out a harsh laugh. “You shouldn’t have to deal with all of this, either.”
“Hush,” she said, wrapping her other hand around his arm in a soft embrace. “Let me take care of you, Lou.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“So am I,” she whispered.
They sat in the dark for a long time. Long enough that Louis heard Rosemarie’s breathing even out into sleep. Sleep didn't come for him, though.
In the morning he would have to wake up just like every other morning and go to work with the full knowledge that every time he said goodbye might be the last time.
He briefly considered calling Nabila to tender his resignation, but he didn’t think Rosemarie would approve of that. In fact, she would insist on him going back and continuing to live, even while the world ended. She would insist that he keep doing what he loved and live his life the same way he would have to when she was gone.
He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he didn’t know how to keep going without her.
Louis couldn’t stop the tears that streaked down his face as he stared silently up at the ceiling.
“Rosemarie,” Louis whispered after he finally managed to compose himself. “You should get to bed.”
He shook her shoulder, but she didn’t respond. Louis's jolted with panic and he jostled her a little more harshly.
Finally, Rosemarie lifted her head slowly and Louis tried to steady his breathing. If Rosemarie noticed, she didn’t say anything, just squeezed his arm and got up off the couch.
Louis walked her to her bedroom and watched her climb under the covers. He bid her goodnight before forcing himself to leave. It seemed that his feet could take him no farther from her than the living room, though, so he took up residence on the couch again. Louis curled up under a throw blanket and watched the clock tick closer to morning.
He should sleep. Time didn’t stop just because your sister was dying, or because you were falling in love with a man you were destined to part from. And self-pity certainly didn’t help anyone.
None of that made Louis's mind any more inclined to rest, though.
Louis lay in the dark until the clock chimed three. Louis sighed and gave up trying to sleep. He clicked the light on, thinking that he might try revising his lines so that he was at least productive in his insomnia.
As he leaned over, though, his eyes caught on the notebook again.
He shouldn't look. It was a blatant invasion of David's privacy. If David wanted him to read it, he would have said so. But his hand reached for the notebook anyway.
Louis ran his fingers along the spine. It was just a generic black journal, nothing particularly special, but when he flipped through the pages, the scent of David’s cologne wafted up to him. Louis closed his eyes and lifted the notebook to his mouth, as though pressing a kiss to the cover and inhaled. The scent was comforting even as it ached inside him.
Louis flipped the cover open. In—relatively—neat scrawl were David’s name and what must have been his address in Weldstone Harbor. There was a phone number scribbled under it, too, though it was not the one David had now. He wondered how long he'd had this notebook. Louis flipped to the first page, just to see if there was a date, but his eyes caught on the title.
Louis's curiosity utterly overwhelmed his sense of propriety, then.
He read that page, then the next. By the time he had the conscience to feel guilty, he was already finished with the book. Louis closed the journal and stared at the little book.
Louis was no a judge of poetry or music, but he felt that there were more good poems in the book than there were bad. And, regardless of their quality, Louis found that he liked each and every one of them.
He wondered which of them were merely poems and which of them belonged to the chords and musical notation scrawled on other pages.
He ached to hear David sing them. All of them.
But, somehow, he doubted David ever intended to share that and Louis had absolutely no right to ask it, either. It didn't stop the wanting, though.
Louis rubbed a hand over his face. He wished once again that he could remember what exactly he'd written in response to the letter David sent. He wished that he'd been kinder, regardless.
Louis was still a little surprised that his words or opinions could hold that much weight with anyone. That he did. And it made him a bit sick to think he'd said something that had hurt David when David's smiles were about the only thing keeping him going any more.
Louis let out a shaky breath.
Maybe it was time to own up to it and take responsibility. To apologize—even if it meant admitting everything about the letter and the song and the notebook. Even if it ended in heartbreak. David deserved some kind of closure on it and the knowledge had started to feel more and more like a lie as time went on.
And, in the end, he loved David too much to deny him the truth. The whole truth, past and present.
With a dead-man’s resolve, Louis crept over to the bookshelf, clicking on the little side lamp so he could find the album he needed. He pulled it out and flipped through the pages until he found the letter and the song.
He couldn't help but smile as he pulled them out. They really were terrible. Some of the lines didn't even form complete sentences.
Louis sat down at Rosemarie's desk and answered the letter how he wished he'd answered it to begin with. When he was finished, he sealed the envelope with shaking hands and tucked it into the front of the notebook. Louis then set the notebook beside his briefcase so he remembered to return it to David tomorrow.