"It's okay that you missed him,"

My breath caught in my throat as Toby spoke beside me, still keeping a slow, leisurely pace.

"It's even okay if you still love him."

Words wouldn't find me, though I knew I wanted to say something. I couldn't react to his words with utter disgust like I used to, not when I couldn't know for sure if that disgust would be the truth.

"It's not okay that you lied to me about it. It's not okay that you gave me this hope that there was still a part of you that he didn't overtake that might have even slightly been for me,"

This time, he did stop walking. My heart leapt in my chest, urging me to say something, anything. There was much more than just a single piece of me that longed for Toby, but there was also much more than a single piece of me that already belonged to Jack. It wasn't as if I could revoke those pieces, not when they quite literally made me who I was.

A small, circular, fading scar on my pointer finger belonged to Jack. A developed fondness for cursive writing belonged to Jack. The smell of pine, an old book, a forest fern with fresh dewdrops on it, it belonged to Jack.

But expressive, inquisitive, knowing hazel belonged to Toby. A brown, fluttering moth drawn to a single, dimming lamp in an expansive evergreen forest belonged to Toby. An unexplainable preference for an oversized flannel over any kind of jacket or parka, even in freezing weather, belonged to Toby.

In a way, I was the brown moth declining the invitation of the forest lamp and choosing to land on the fern.

Tears welled in my eyes before I could even try to stop them, and fell down my cheeks before I could even find the effort to care.

"Please don't love me,"

Toby whipped around to face me so fast that a gust of wind from him blew over me, past me, through me.

"Don't you dare say that. Don't you ever, ever fucking say that,"

He stood in front of me, stooped slightly so he could take in the whole of my face. Tears broke to sobs as I tried to look away from him.

A single, calloused, slender finger slid under my chin, guiding me back into those knowing pools of hazel, searching me for an answer. Maybe even searching for a question. A doubt.

"Paralyzed on the floor of that asshole's cabin, I loved you,"

An arm brushing against my own.

"Watching you mace Jeff right in his mug, I loved you,"

A finger under my chin gave way to four, a thumb brushing against the side of my face, not caring about the saltwater streams.

"Hearing you cry from right outside that cabin door for weeks after he left you, I loved you,"

A gentle arm against my own gravitated to the small of my back, hesitant fingers becoming more and more confident as they found purchase against a mixture of fabric tightly gipped between them and the peek of my skin starting to show just under the hem.

"But, watching you become my partner, become one of the only people I've ever been able to trust? Watching your skills sharpen and your senses catch up? Being right by your side as you finally, finally began to heal? I fell in love with you."

Eyelashes touching, breath from his lips mingling with my own, heartbeats reaching out for one another through our shirts. His fingertips finding their way under the hem of my shirt, tracing small circles with his thumb against the skin he found there. His hand under my chin now palmed the side of my face, an invitation.

You need to say that you want this.

I nodded, words unable to come out as my brain fought to catch up, fought to process. He drew even closer, his bottom, pouty lip just barely touching my own. I could feel the roughness of the scar across his cheek just barely ghosting over my own cheek; there was no going back for me.

I want this.

He shook his head slightly in the negative, a coy smile gracing his lips for just a moment before he adjusted his hand against my cheek to further tilt my head up.

With your words. Your real words.

"I want this."

I didn't have to think about it; he was so close. Tousled brown locks fell in front of his eyes as the wind began to pick up, the ends gently caressing across the skin of my forehead.

A teasing smirk pulled at his lips, his teeth just barely close enough to graze my bottom lip; my body no longer knew the chill of midnight as the long-forgotten heat of arousal flooded my entire being. I knew my face was flushed, slight embarrassment mixed with something I thought I had long buried. Crescent moon favored him as she offered her light to him; her reflection strewn messily about in his half-lidded eyes.

"What, exactly, do you want?"

My bottom lip stung beneath my teeth as I bit it; it was the only form of restraint I could offer myself.

What are you doing to me?

Toby tilted his head, eyes drifting from my abused lip to my eyes that, no doubt, matched his. So in sync, all of the time. As he moved, I moved with him subconsciously, tilting my head to mirror him.

What do you want me to do to you?

"Kiss me," A breathless, husky yet hushed whisper escaped me; the sound was nearly a whimper. A plea for touch. A plea for relief. A plea for him.

A damp fern is no place for a little brown moth.


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I need him to be available for one hour delivery from amazon. Maybe doordash will deliver him?

Toby is so hot! How do we think Jack is gonna like this one yall?

If you're going to Meatball, do it Extravagantly.

Please if there is typos let me know, Im typing in nearly 2 inch nails so i am trying but its hard man :(

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