“But would you?” I ask him, running a finger over his hand, tracing the lines in his palm. “Would you do anything differently? Because…” I pause for a second, gathering my thoughts. “Because I understand,” I finally say. “I understand why you did it. And I think if I’d been in your shoes, I might have done the exact same thing. If I had been the Similar to grow up on Castor Island, and I had met you, knowing you’d had this whole life beyond the micronation, I might have stayed silent to protect you. Just like you did for me.”

“There’s still Oliver,” Levi says, and I’m caught off guard by the mention of Ollie’s name. “He’s still missing. And you still kissed him.”

“I know.”

Ollie. My heart pangs at the mention of him. The boy I also love. The boy I miss to an unbearable degree.

“I would completely support you being with Ollie if that’s what you wanted,” Levi says, his voice holding steady. “But…” He stares into my eyes again, then pulls me closer. So close we’re not even a hairbreadth apart. I gasp at our proximity. I’d almost forgotten how it felt to touch him. For our planets to orbit each other like this.

“But we could die tomorrow. Or the next day, or the day after that,” I answer him.

“We could.”

Then our lips are meeting. They find each other like magnets, completely unable to resist the force. I’m sliding so I’m practically sitting in his lap, with his back propped up against the wall. He’s warm to the touch, and that warmth feels transferable, like if I press every part of myself to him, it’ll spread over me. So I keep kissing him hungrily, and for as long as we keep kissing, this room disappears, and the fact that Ollie and my dad might be dead is the furthest thing from my mind. And we’re just me and Levi. Two people laying everything bare. Needing the comfort of this, the certainty of this, the finality of this.

“Do you—”