Normalcy was clever. He didn't know how they did it, all those people out there. Smiling and laughing and bonding and discussing, rambling and announcing and courting and promoting, expressing and respecting and obeying and believing. The closest thing Clue had ever got to any sort of normal relationship was with Narcissus Laurent — but his feelings for Narcissus Laurent were anything but normal.

The fey lad stood up from the bed as if intending to close the curtains of his four-poster and shut himself in, for he knew the handsome Beater would not know what he meant by "show me", and that would be that. But then Narcissus advanced towards him, and Clue blinked, and then he was kissed, for the first time in his life, and his chest was on fire and his future was too.

There might have been dread or anxiety or regret in the older boy's hazel eyes, but all Clue cared about was the confirmation that what Clue had hoped he meant was truly what he meant. They wanted the same thing. They wanted this.

But perhaps Clue wanted it a little bit more, for he did not hesitate before disrespecting that gap between them, and grabbing the collar of Narcissus' shirt to pull him down for a kiss redoubled.