"Harry? Harry!"
". . ."
"Darling!"
"I'm right he- What's wrong? Why do you look so panicked?"
"Oh. . . haha, you didn't run away?"
"Why would I. . . it's not like I'd get anywhere. I was just reading in the study and didn't hear you calling me."
"Ah, I see. . . The window was wide open so I thought-"
"So you thought I jumped two stories down and ran away on two perfectly fine legs?"
". . . It's a possibility."
"Uh huh. Anyway, what did you need me for? Is Louis gone?"
"No, he's still here. Do you want to come downstairs or continue reading?"
"I'll come down."
". . ."
". . ."
"Wow, I never took you for a bottom."
"What the fuck are you talking about now, Louis?"
"Ugh, you're always cursing at me. . . I'm saying it sounded like a lot of fun up there with the way you were screaming his name. Harry! Harry! Darling!"
"Okay, I'm done. It's time for you to leave."
"Oh, going for round two? Lemme watch! Ow, ow, ow, ow, I'm going! I'm going!"
"Don't come back unless I say so. Understood?"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"He seems like a handful. . ."
"He's more like a stain of grape juice - nearly impossible to get rid of."
"Aren't you friends?"
"Of a sort."
"What does that mean?"
"Louis is the friend you couldn't initially stand. In fact, I still can't stand him, but he grows on people like mold on bread."
"Your comparisons are really dreadful."
"He's a dreadful fellow, but enough talk of him. Why don't we go for a walk?"
"That sounds lovely."
". . ."
". . ."
". . ."
"I miss asking you questions."
"Where did that come from?"
"Lots of thinking. . . When we first met, I was intrigued by you. You held nothing back, feeding my curiosity until it became something reminiscent of a beast. And then fear finally came crashing down, and I ran, foolishly thinking you wouldn't chase me. Since then, I've been plagued with more questions despite getting to know you in more intimate ways. I've been afraid to ask them without the security of my clipboard and handcuffs."
"Why now then?"
"I want to be the one asking questions right now, but I guess this time it has to be an equal exchange. I'm not the psychiatrist anymore; I can't hide or avoid your own curiosity."
"So then answer me. Why now?"
". . . You thought I ran away, and I had to ask myself: why didn't I? It's all a matter of time. . . Trying to delay the inevitable, skirting around the subject of us - if an us could ever exist - is exhausting. I am mentally exhausted, and this walk will leave me physically exhausted. I need a reprieve."
". . ."
"Would you even answer them? We're not in the same situation; our hierarchy has switched, and I am at your mercy. You say you like giving your obsessions satisfaction, but that has its limits. I'll never have the satisfication of freedom."
"I'll answer them. Any question you have, I'll tell you the truth in exchange for my own inquiries."