Lark's legs swung over the edge of their stump. But this evening was different—Joseph wasn't beside him. Lark was utterly, and totally alone, and he didn't know when he would he would feel complete again. He'd called Joseph on his homes telephone, but one of sisters answered.

He asked her to tell Lark to meet him at the tree, and thankfully—she didn't ask any further questions.

Now, he sat and he waited. If Joseph didn't show up, he'd know the two were done for. And truthfully, after the way Joseph had treated him at school, Lark had bits and pieces of reason to be angry with Joseph, too.

Joseph hadn't given Lark the benefit of the doubt—just as Lark had at the Homecoming dance, when Joseph specifically told him, he knew of Bobby Stinger's intentions.

But as time passed, the sun began to set, and Lark's eyes began to get droopy. His hand came forward, and wiped at his wet cheeks.

He wished he lived in a time where being him was alright. Where he would be able to love Joseph freely, and not have to fear for his safety, his heart, or the ones his heart belonged to.

When would that ever happen?

Lark jumped from the tree, sniffling beneath his breath. "I'm so, so stupid."

"You're not stupid," Lark's heart stopped, and he turned, more tears falling at the sight of a disheveled Joseph. "You're beautiful, brilliant, and I kind of love you."

Joseph enveloped Lark into his arms, the both of them smiling softly. Joseph leant down, pressing a soft kiss to Lark's forehead. "You don't have to say it back. I know I acted horribly toward you this evening—"

Lark pressed onto the tip of his toes, his lips caressing Lark's. Joseph's arms came around Lark's hips, squeaking sensually.

"I love you, too."