After another late meeting at work, Megan talked Darren into going to their usual pub near the city center.
It wasn't quiet — but it was familiar. Warm with noise. The kind of place where voices overlapped, where no one listened too closely, and conversations dissolved into the air once they were spoken.
Megan ordered two pints of dark ale. Rock music hummed softly in the background, blending with the low murmur of voices until everything softened into something indistinct.
She took a few slow sips, buying herself time.
Darren noticed, of course. He always did.
"Darren," she said at last, setting her glass down. "I need you to be honest with me."
He raised an eyebrow, amused — but attentive.
"About Kyle," she added.
There was a brief pause.
Megan emptied half of her glass in one go and set it down a little harder than necessary.
"Do you have feelings for him?"
Their eyes met — Megan's sharp, searching; Darren's caught off guard for a second.
He didn't answer right away.
He exhaled slowly, rubbing his thumb along the rim of his glass.
"I was wondering how long it would take you to ask," he said quietly. A corner of his mouth lifted, not playful — more resigned than anything else. "You really do know me well."
Another pause.
"…Yeah," he added, softer now. "I do."
Megan kept silent.
She watched him — closely — as if trying to see past the words. Her lips pressed together — not in disapproval, but in restraint.
She waited.
"When I'm with him," Darren went on after a moment, "everything slows down."
He frowned slightly, searching for words.
"I don't feel like I have to perform. Or impress anyone. I don't have to be… anything."
He shrugged, then went on, his voice lower.
"I just exist," he said quietly. "And somehow, when it's him… it feels like nothing's missing. The world narrows down to something small and exact — and that's where I belong."
He glanced at Megan — not looking for approval, but understanding.
"And I think that's rare," he finished.
Megan studied him for a long moment.
Her worry didn't disappear — but it shifted. Softened. Something like curiosity flickered there too.
"Okay," she said finally, smiling — small, but genuine. "That's… good to hear."
She leaned back slightly.
"You should know something," she added quietly. "Kyle won't say it first. Not to you. Not to anyone."
Darren nodded, more to himself than to her.
"Then I guess I'll have to be the brave one."
There was determination in his voice — but held back, careful.
"Just don't rush him," Megan said. Not a warning. A request.
"I won't," Darren replied without hesitation.
And meant it.
Darren lowered his gaze to his glass. For a moment, he didn't speak. Something in his expression held — quiet, layered — as if the rest of it stayed unspoken.
"So," Megan said after a while, tilting her head slightly, "you understand what this could do to him?"
Darren's expression changed instantly. Serious. Steady. No trace of doubt.
He let out a slow breath and nodded once.
"I understand."
Megan watched him for another second — then she gave a resolute nod.
"All right," she said, lifting her glass. "You passed."
She smiled, bright and sincere.
Darren blinked.
"That's it? Just like that?"
She shrugged lightly. "You don't get feelings like that by accident."
He paused, then asked — more carefully than before, "Do you think… he might feel the same?"
"I'm not inside his head," Megan said. "But my gut says you have a chance."
Darren straightened, something settling into place.
"Then it's decided," he said. "I'll tell him."
Megan let out a short laugh and raised her glass again.
"To doing this right," she said, eyes glinting.
Darren clinked his glass against hers.
"To Kyle," he said simply.