DYLAN
Baz doesn't ask me anything else. He just holds me. I can feel his light breathing as his chest inflates and deflates, each exhale blowing against my hair. I'm a good foot shorter than he is. I'm scared. I'm so incredibly scared. But he doesn't laugh. He doesn't sneer. He doesn't make fun of me or call me names. He just holds me.
We stay like this for a while. I'm not sure how long. It feels like an hour, but it probably wasn't. Finally, I loosen my hold on him, and he lets me pull away.
"Agatha's my roommate," I whisper.
Baz looks like he just had a mosquito fly down his throat while riding a bike.
"Your roommate is Wellbelove?" He looks more appalled by this discovery than about the whole me-being-trans thing.
"Yes? Is that a bad thing?" (Aside from the obvious?)
Baz groans in exasperation. "Wellbelove is Snow's girlfriend. We're roommates with each other's significant others."
I can't help it. I laugh.
Baz reaches out and rubs his thumb across my cheek, wiping at the half-dried tears. His touch is cold. I hold my breath. I think he's holding his breath too. His hand lingers on the side of my face. Then he pulls away.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what I was doing," he mutters before turning away.
I don't breathe normally again until after he's disappeared into the night.