Gauche glared after Noelle, trying desperately to think of any excuse at all not to have to look at Mariela.

"So," she asked after a moment, making Gauche's shoulders hitch up toward his ears. After another moment, he glanced down at Mariela and realized that she was just as steadfastly not looking up at him. Instead, her eyes were focused on the shaved ice stand in front of them as she asked again, "What now?"

"I…" Gauche trailed off, his hand going to rub at the back of his neck. He was at a total loss for words—this was not what they'd planned, and he was going to blast Noelle into tiny little bits the second she came back. He had no idea where to look or what to do with his hands. Gauche was positive that he'd never been in such an awkward situation—and given how he usually behaved, that was saying something. Hell, given how he'd been finding himself around Mariela lately, it was saying too much for him to want to think about. Choosing to look up at the starry sky above the two of them, he cleared his throat and tried again: "I…"

"Look," Mariela said finally, after it had become clear that Gauche had no idea what to say next. "We don't have to talk about anything, alright? We can just have a nice night tonight. It doesn't have to be weird or anything."

Gauche grit his teeth, his frustration making his face start to heat. She was giving him an out—she was giving him the easiest out possible, in fact. He just had to nod and go along with things.

So why was he so angry at himself right now?

"Anyway, did you want to get—"

"I'm sorry," Gauche cut her off to blurt out. He was still adamantly staring at the sky and refusing to look at her, but he couldn't just let her brush this off. Somehow, he knew it would mean the death of something between the two of them, and he just… didn't want that. Finally, he forced himself to look at Mariela's surprised face, her eyes big and her mouth slightly opened in shock. It was enough to make him laugh—she looked so surprised to hear him apologize, as if he hadn't been apologizing to her for the most ridiculous things since they'd met. He grabbed her hand and started through the crowd, scanning the area for anywhere that might be the least bit private. After a moment of hunting, he finally found a bench in a dark corner of the festival, away from all the booths and most of the crowd. He hesitated a moment, then let go of her hand and gestured at the bench. "Do you want to sit down?"

"What's going on?" Mariela asked instead, eyeing him suspiciously. Even through his nerves, Gauche wasn't sure whether to laugh or be thoroughly offended—what exactly was she so nervous about?

"I'm not going to hurt you," Gauche said, and to his surprise, Mariela rolled her eyes. "What?"

"I know you're not going to hurt me," Mariela clarified, finally taking a hesitant seat down on the bench. She chewed on her bottom lip before sighing, "At least, not in any way that really matters. But I don't really want to talk about what happened the last time we saw each other, Gauche."

"Will you please just let me apologize?"

Mariela studied him for a second before asking slowly, "Why does it matter so much to you whether or not you get to apologize for what happened? It wasn't your fault, Gauche. It was… a bad night. Not exactly something I really want to remember."

Gauche thought for a moment, weighing his options. He could tell her the truth—but what exactly was the truth? Why did he want to apologize to her so badly? She was right—it wasn't like it was his fault that things had gone down the way that they had that night. He had only been trying to help her when he'd followed her to make sure that she was okay.

But then the look on her face when he'd told her he shouldn't have kissed her—the look he hadn't been able to get out of his head since—came to his mind's eye, and he knew that it was all bullshit. He knew what the truth was.

"I think I love you."

x

Mariela sat in total silence, shocked motionless.

"I think I love you."

Something about this was just so totally… Gauche. Mariela had no idea what to do—so she laughed. And laughed. And laughed. She laughed so hard that she started to cry, doubled over and grabbing at her stomach as it started to cramp and hurt. The tears ran down her face as she laughed and laughed, and it took Gauche finally grabbing her by the shoulders and looking her in the eyes to realize that she wasn't laughing, anymore—she was sobbing.

"I'm sorry," he was saying, holding her out as far away from himself as his arms would let him. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't," Mariela managed to choke out, forcing herself to calm down. "Don't say it."

"Say what?" Gauche asked, brow furrowed. He was still holding her out at arm's length like her sudden mania could be infectious.

Mariela shrugged his hands off her shoulders and took a deep breath, willing herself to stop whatever mental break she was having. She let the breath out slowly and met his eyes with a small smile. "Don't say that you shouldn't have said that."

Gauche looked away from her, and if she didn't know any better, she would have thought there was almost a look of shame on his face. "I shouldn't have said that when I did," he mumbled.

Mariela chuckled. "That's basically saying the exact same thing. Why are you so set on talking about all of this right now? Wouldn't you rather enjoy the festival?"

Gauche groaned and threw himself back in his seat on the bench. "I'm so shit at this. Look, I want to talk about this because I hate not talking to you."

"Why?" Mariela didn't mean to sound as petulant as she knew she did, but she couldn't help herself. She didn't know what it was about the moment… but she knew that she wasn't about to make this easy on him.

Gauche looked back up at the sky. After a moment, he said, "Because I think about you all the time."

"Why?"

"Because I'm happier with you than I've been with anyone since…" Gauche trailed off, swallowing hard and audibly. "I'm happier with you than I've been in a very long time."

"Why?"

"Because, dammit!" Gauche finally sat up in his seat and met her eyes, and even Mariela could tell that it must have taken all his will power just to do that. "Because you're smart. And you're caring. And you're brave and you have the biggest heart of anyone I've met… maybe even bigger than my Marie. Because I'm sorry I'm an asshole and an idiot, but even though I'm maybe the stupidest I've ever been when I'm around you, you still… you still like me. I think, anyway." Gauche took a deep breath and said, painstakingly slowly, "I want to talk to you about this because I think I love you."

Mariela sat perfectly still, letting everything he'd said wash over her.

"I think I love you."

But what did that actually mean?

Before she could ask, however, fireworks started going off overhead, making Mariela jump almost directly into Gauche's lap. Suddenly sitting pressed against his side, she forced herself to peak up at him… and almost laughed when she saw him looking back down at her in just the same way, the eye not covered by his hair searching her face nervously.

"What…" her voice came out in a squeak, and Mariela had to stop to clear her throat nervously before trying again, "What does that even mean, Gauche?"

Gauche was silent for a long moment. Finally, in a voice so quiet that Mariela barely heard him over the bustle of the festival and the fireworks still going off overhead, he said, "Look, I've never been very good at saying anything unless it was about my darling Marie. If you'll let me, though, I can show you what I mean."

Mariela laughed quietly—finally, in just that moment, she was starting to understand a little bit of the sister complex that everyone had warned her about since the moment she'd met the Black Bulls. "I don't know if now is the time to bring up Marie, Gauche," she said teasingly. To her surprise, however, he gave her a small smile back.

"Maybe you have a point. Like I said, I'm not very good at saying anything. But I can show you what I mean if you let me."

"And what do you mean by that, Gauche?" Mariela could feel her face heating up. She was sure that if she tried, she could cut the tension with a knife.

But she was pretty sure she liked it.

A long moment passed, and the festival bustled just steps away from their dark, secluded little corner. Even with the fireworks still going off overhead, it all felt like it was a million miles away—like it was their own little world. Mariela realized that she recognized the feeling… that she and Gauche had stood on this precipice before. Right now was when he pulled back. Said he shouldn't have done what he was doing. Disappeared into the festival, unable to meet her eyes. As Gauche opened his mouth, Mariela felt her heart drop.

No, she thought to herself desperately, suddenly acutely aware of her own desires. Please don't do it. Not yet. Don't ruin this for me yet, Gauche, please—

"Can I kiss you?"

Mariela's jaw actually dropped as the words sunk in.

Can I kiss you. Had he really said that? Had she really heard him correctly?

"Can I kiss you?" He asked again, this time his voice louder than a whisper. Mariela could see the colour rising in his cheeks while he waited for an answer. She could see his jaw ticking nervously. They were sitting so close together that she could even feel his leg bouncing, getting more and more sporadic as the seconds ticked by.

"If you don't want to, that's fine—" Gauche started. He didn't get to finish, though; Mariela leaned in and pressed her lips against his, cutting him off as the last of the fireworks exploded overhead and lit the sky above them.

I think I might love you, Mariela thought to herself as she felt Gauche finally pull her in close to deepen the kiss. Well, I think I might love you, too.