Something about the way Jude went motionless, something about the way his mouth hung a little open — Kieran had an impulse to slide forward across the floor, come up onto the couch, and catch Jude's mouth with his. And he knew — he knew — that that was not likely to go well for him, that it would probably just shatter everything, but with Jude staring at him like that it was hard to convince himself that was the case.

But it was just about paint.

"Oh," he said, and sat back on his thighs with a little grin. If there was a flicker of something else on his face, just for a second, it didn't mean anything, right? "Nothing to be done about it," Kieran said, "Truth be told, it'll get worse before it gets better."

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