**_Oswald_**

There is so much that I still don’t understand about Rayburn.

How did he feel when his parents died? How vast is his fear of fire? What does he think when he’s annoyed? Does he really love me, even when he avoids the question?

So many questions—questions that I absolutely ignore.

***

The meadow is buzzing in the low wind and the afternoon sun. The tall grasses flow with the currents; the robins chirp from their nests in the forest behind us.

I’m laying down, eyes closed, my back against the soft, wet soil and my face to the warm rays. Rayburn is beside me, most likely sketching in his notepad some of the meadows flowers.

I open my eyes to see which flower he chose to draw and see his light gray staring at me. Rayburn flushes, then turns away embarrassed.

“I know I’m a handsome sight, Ray,” I lift myself up and scoot over to him so our legs are touching, “No need to be embarrassed over admiring my face.”

Rayburn frowns—like he always does—but doesn’t say anything. He just idly doodles some circles on his notepad with his charcoal pencil. Rayburn usually has a comeback when it comes to this type of stuff, so I’m surprised. Something has to be wrong.

“Hey,” I poke his cheek with my finger, watching as his jaw tightens, “What’s wrong with you, darling?”

He finally breaks and pushes my hand away. “Don’t call me that—nothing’s wrong.”

_There we go._

I nip at his ear teasingly then kiss his cheek with a gentle press of my lips. Rayburn’s face turns red, but he tries to ignore me, turning his attention back to doodling. “Why not? I’m courting you now, aren’t I?”

Rayburn shrugs. “Well it’s seems Ann Marie has the same idea for you.”

I pause. Ann Marie? Please don’t tell me his mood is about that clingy girl who knows I’m too old for her. “Ann Marie is stupid. She doesn’t matter.” I lean forward to kiss him again. Rayburn stops me with his hand, and I just kiss that instead. He lets me, which means that his resolve is wavering.

“She’s not stupid—she’s like you.”

I move my lips away from a stop where charcoal seemed to make its home and glare at Rayburn between his fingers. “Watch your words, Ray.”

He continues nonetheless. “You’re both lovesick and persistent—“

“But she’s annoying about it,” I grumble.

“You were too, Oswald,” Rayburn snatches his hand away, wiping it on his brown trousers, “Trust me, I was basically you in that situation.”

I cross my arms. “Did I yell at your window at 9 ‘o clock at night?”

“No, but you did pester me when I was bedridden and take me to events that I truly did not wish or care to be at.”

His arm is back in my hands before he can say another word. “You agreed to go with me to those.”

Rayburn scoffs. “No, I did _not_! Anyway, this conversation is going out of hand.” He turns quiet, hesitates, then leans against my side. I involuntary let go of his arm and wrap my hand around his side, and pull him closer. Rayburn picks at my buttons and asks, “Do you fancy her?”

I lift him into my lap. “Please tell me that you’re joking.”

His back is against my chest, warm and thin, so I can’t see his face when he sighs and says, “But you have to find her a little attractive?”

“Rayburn, I would appreciate it if you were to kindly shut up.”

Rayburn turns to me, golden locks falling over his pale forehead. “If I weren’t here—if I never came—you would be with her, right?”

I growl. “Rayburn—“

“Oh come on, Oswald,” Rayburn lifts himself away from me and walks backward across the meadow, glaring at me as though _I_ was the one at fault, “Look at me! If we hadn’t grown up together, even if you were still homosexual without me around, you wouldn’t give me a second glance!” He buried his head in his hands. “I just don’t understand….”

I stand and walk towards him in quick strides; he’s to busy muttering to himself to notice me bring his head back to my chest. We stand there, his hair tickling my collarbone, until he sighs.

“I love you, Oswald,” Rayburn looks up at me as I stare down at him, eyes wide, surprised at his confession, “I really, really do.”

Now, who can blame me for what I do next? _No one_. Because Rayburn saying, even uttering those words—exposing that vulnerable side of himself—is a rare thing of itself. I kiss him, and he kisses me.

It’s soft at first, then it grows to a hot pulsing crescendo. Rayburn’s arms are around my neck, his hips close to mine. My heart beats with the realization that he’s even allowing this kiss, allowing me to do whatever I wish to him. So I open my mouth, grab his waist with an arm, and fall—carefully, of course—to be hidden amongst the tall grasses.

Rayburn breaks away from me, I pull him back down again, but he does it again. “Oswald,” his breath is ragged, his thin lips a startling pink, “It’s getting late.”

I grin wolfishly, then turn us over so his back is to the dirt ground. “Then we should hurry this up, yes?”

I don’t hear his answer as my mouth descends back on him once more, and he doesn’t protest a second time. The birds are quieting, the wind too. The sky above his is waning of its light, the sky turning into different shades of pink, orange, and blue.

All that beauty couldn’t take my eyes off of the one in front of me. Panting and calling my name.

There was nothing that could tear me away from Rayburn.

***

**_Ann Marie_**

The moans coming from the meadow are too loud for me to ignore. I would have, if it was some random lad and a lady doing there things.

But this was Oswald with that twig of his that he liked to keep. _My_ Oswald.

Tears are running down my face before I even know that they are. I sniffle, grimacing when I hear Rayburn shout Oswald’s name.

How dare he! How dare he….

I turn a heel and make my way back through the forest. Plotting, planning for how I was to bring Oswald back to the light. Then I remember.

There was that boy who seemed touchy with Rayburn at that last party. An aristocrat’s son.

I grin, my walk turning into a run.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.