"I promised her that I'd go out of my way to keep the two of you apart," he continued, his hands clasped between his knees. His gaze was fixed on the vast dark sky. "She wasn't interested in that. Actually, that made her angrier."
He hesitated. "What did she say?" 
"She said, 'I don't know why you're so insistent on being around him all of a sudden,'" he mimicked with narrowed eyes and a bitterness flooding his voice, but not mockery.
"And what did you say?" He asked, trying to speak over the lump that was forming in his throat. His mouth was beginning to feel dry. There was a sharp pang in his chest and he hated that the only thing to take away his numbness was his guilt.
Still looking out at the sky, he said, "I said that I'm happier in your company than I am out of it." His eyes darted suddenly to meet Hadley's and the corner of his lips tugged into a tired smile. "She didn't really say anything after that. She just kind of turned away."
Hadley imagined the way she had looked when they used to argue and, in his frustration, he would blurt something stupid and hurtful. He remembered the way she used to look at him, her dark eyes wide and flooding, her brow soft and lips just barely parted; he remembered the way she used to turn her body away as if she was wrapping herself up away from him, only averting her eyes and firmly sealing her lips shut after a long, mistrustful stare. He remembered the way he would reach out to touch her and she would recoil like even the suggestion was enough to wound her, and he would turn away, watching her lip stiffen or tremble; watching as she twisted her lips and her gaze became glassy or flat. Towards the end, he had stopped trying to reach for her.
The lump in his throat seemed to harden.
He shook his head, holding Spencer's gaze. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to get in the way like this."
"It's alright," he insisted with a small shrug. "It was my decision to have that conversation with her. I knew what I was going to get myself into, but– I don't know what to tell you, Hadley. I know how stupid and insane this probably sounds given our," his lips fell into an almost smile, "unique hi온라인카지노게임 but I just have this feeling around you. Like I feel completely alone and removed sometimes, and I look at you and I can see my emptiness looking back at me— and I know how that sounds— but it gives me this feeling that we're looking for the same thing. Purpose, meaning, a reason to get out of bed in the morning. I don't know. Whatever it is, you're searching for it, too. I know you are. And I like Elodie— I do— and I want her to be happy but there's something about you that I can't give up. It makes me a bad boyfriend and I don't wanna be but–" He struggled for the words for a moment, then paused and shrugged with a small, tender smile. "But."
Their eyes were locked. Their heads were bowed towards each other and Spencer kept his voice low when he spoke, barely above a whisper. Their knees just touched and their hands almost brushed, and Hadley glanced towards his lips, frozen in space. 
He realised how conspiratorial they must have looked; their hushed speech, their lowered heads, the closeness they sought when they were alone together, but he knew he wasn't going to move any further. He knew his heart had lodged itself in his throat and seemed to be beating everywhere, his fingers seeming to pulse, for the same reason that his stomach was warm and there was a desperate pounding in his chest. All at once, he knew he wanted to kiss Spencer and he knew that Spencer wanted to kiss him, and he pulled away just enough to be out of reach; just enough to send a message, though he suspected that Spencer was trying to send him the same one.
They moved just barely away, bringing their hands back to themselves and raising their heads, allowing their knees to remain pressed together. There seemed to be a kind of unspoken language, a silent understanding that passed between them; the way that Spencer mirrored his body language so effortlessly made him wonder who had actually moved first.