If Gabriel had insisted that he feels something special between them, if he had lingered on his hurt, or accused Anthony of some slight, things might have gone very differently. Anthony would have built his walls higher, he would have offered a cool goodbye, and paid for their drinks, and left this silly dalliance behind. He would have washed his hands of the whole thing and compartmentalized off his disappointment, as he has done before.

But that isn’t what happens. As Gabriel answers, voice impressively steady. Anthony turns to stare at the wall behind the bar and sips his drink. Possibly one of the most maddening and beautiful things about Gabriel is his ability to spot artifice and his willingness to call it out. Anthony respects him for that, damn it, and that makes it significantly more difficult to hold onto his disdain.

The silence lingers so long that one might fairly assume that Anthony does not intend to say anything at all. Then, quietly, almost gently, he answers, “I do not wish to pick you up and put you down like a plaything.”

Do not. Anthony doesn’t want things to end between them; he does not want to speak of this in the past tense.