December 2029

EADA Rafael Barba was sat at his desk, prepping for court the next day, when the door to his office burst open. He glanced up to see his son, Noah, enter. The teenager shrugged off his winter jacket and dropped it, along with his school bag, to the floor.

"Hola, mijo!" Rafael greeted with a broad smile. There was a slight air of surprise in his voice – he hadn't expected Noah to stop by today. In the past, it hadn't been unusual for Rafael to return to his office to find his son sat at the desk or on the leather sofa, working on his latest assignment. But, since Noah had entered his senior year three months ago, a combination of extra-curricular activities and a busy social calendar had meant his visits had become less frequent.

Rafael missed the way he would burst in, eager to tell him everything about his day, so he was pleased to see his son enter. That was until, with a sigh, the teenager flopped down on the sofa, burying his face in the cushions.

Rafael raised an eyebrow at his son's dramatics. "Tough day?"

Noah mumbled something unintelligible into the sofa, but the anguish in his tone was clear, even through the thick cushions.

"Want to talk about it?" Rafael asked, pushing back from his desk.

Noah shook his head and, sensing his son didn't want to talk about whatever was bothering him, Rafael didn't push. Instead, the two of them lapsed into silence. Rafael tucked himself back into his desk and resumed scribbling on his legal pad while Noah lay prone on the sofa, listening to the rain tapping against the office window.

He lifted his head a few moments later. "Pathetic fallacy," he mumbled absentmindedly, turning towards his father.

"What's that?" Rafael asked, looking up from the bullet-proof answer tree he was formulating.

"In literature," Noah explained, "when the weather reflects the main character's mood, they call it pathetic fallacy."

"Ah! Well, you learn something new every day." Rafael let out a small laugh. "Are you the main character now?"

Noah nodded before burying his head back in the pillow. Rafael dropped his gold pen on to the legal pad, stood and approached his son. Bending, he tapped Noah's legs and his son took the hint, swinging his legs around and moving to a sitting position.

"You know you can talk to me about anything right, mijo?" Rafael said, sitting beside Noah, and putting his feet up on the coffee table. "Did you flunk a test? Fall out with a friend?"

Noah shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak but it was like there was a giant lump in his throat. He blinked, swallowing it and willed his voice to come out steady and clear.

"How do you…" he breathed out quietly, feeling his chest tighten a little. "How do you know when you're in love?"

Rafael let out a slow breath. This was not a question he was expecting to have to answer today. "That's a pretty big question, mijo. I assume you're asking because you think you might be in love with someone?" he asked, with a gentle smile.

"Not really. I was just wondering, y'know?"

Rafael bit back a smile. In addition to being over-dramatic, Noah was a terrible liar. He supposed it came from having a NYPD officer and a lawyer as parents. Whenever he'd tried to lie as a child, he would have been called out quickly, so he never really mastered the art. But Rafael would allow his son this one white lie, given the embarrassment the boy was probably feeling at the moment.

"Well," Rafael began, "I can't give you an exact answer – it's different for everyone." He paused gathering his thoughts. He didn't think waxing lyrical about seeing colours would work as well in this situation as it had with Noah's mother ten years earlier.

"I guess the best analogy I can give you is it's like picking out an outfit. There are so many different options and combinations. Choosing a shirt. Finding a tie and suspender combo to match." He nudged Noah's shoulder. "Picking out the most ostentatious socks." He hitched up a trouser leg to reveal today's choice – grey with a green and red striped cuff and a random pattern of candy canes.

The teenager's mouth quirked into a small smile at that; his dad always did wear the most ridiculous socks. Hence why he'd gifted him the pair he was currently wearing at Christmas last year. Noah had never really understood his father's penchant for wacky socks, but he accepted it as one of the lawyer's idiosyncrasies.

"The outfit you eventually go with," Rafael continued, "is the one that looks right, feels right. It gives you confidence – like you could face anything. When you find that someone, you'll know."

"Is that how you felt about Mom?"

Rafael nodded. "Yeah, but it took me a long time to realise that's what I was feeling. I thought I'd been in love before, Noah, but I was wrong. What I felt for your mom… what I still feel for her… was so different to anything I'd ever felt before, that I didn't know what it was until I almost lost her."

Noah's eyebrows rose, and he threw a questioning look at his father. He'd never heard this story before. As far as he was concerned his parents had the most stable relationship of any couple he knew.

"It was before we were together," Rafael clarified, not wanting to worry his son. "I found out she was seeing someone. Suffice to stay I didn't take it well. Jealousy can make a man do stupid things. But I soon realised what an idiot I was being, and thankfully, your mother is a very forgiving person."

"I didn't know," remarked Noah.

Rafael gave him a soft smile. "You were only little, mijo. And it was nothing really, in the grand scheme of things. It brought us closer together… in the end."

"Yeah, I guess."

"So," Rafael hedged, patting his son on the back as he rose to return to his desk, "does Jesse know how you feel?"

Noah groaned, dropping his head into his hands.