Page 88 of Butterfly

“Well, at least your pants are on this time,” Rory said, strolling forward.

He led Ollie into the kitchen and jabbed his finger at a phone on the side until it stopped playing music.

“Ollie’s going to be staying with us for a while.”

He didn’t ask, hetold, and Sebastian smiled, offering his hand out for Ollie to shake.

“It’s good to see you again.”

Ollie took his hand. He bit his tongue to stop himself from replying with ‘really?’. He and Sebastian hadn’t been close inside. He’d been Rory’s scary silver-fox cellmate, who also happened to be the top dog on the wing. Ollie couldn’t even remember if they’d ever shared a conversation without Rory present.

“Thank you for letting me stay.”

Sebastian frowned, studying Ollie for a moment. Then he gestured to the stove where something was bubbling away, splattering red sauce up the wall and over the counter. “Hungry?”

Rory sighed and turned down the heat. He stared at the concoction in the pan. “It’s a good job we’re not because you’ve outdone yourself.”

Ollie stiffened, expecting some kind of angry outburst from Sebastian, but he only chuckled. His ice eyes softened for Rory. “I may have burned the onions…and the garlic.”

Rory twitched his nose, then opened the oven door. A cloud of black smoke floated up. “And the bread?”

“And the bread,” Sebastian agreed, switching the oven off. “Still better than last time.”

They smiled at each other.

Ollie looked down at his feet.

It was too comfortable, too intimate.

It was all he wanted with Teddy and could never have.

For the first time, he started to regret not leaving with his brother and his auntie.

“I’ll show you to your room,” Rory said, moving out of Sebastian’s reach, who narrowed his eyes in response.

“Me and Sebastian sleep on the top floor, but we’ve got two guest bedrooms on the first floor, both have en-suites.”

Rory strolled past. Sebastian gave Ollie an encouraging nod, then Ollie followed Rory out of the room and up the stairs.

“I won’t be here long,” Ollie said in a rush. “I don’t want to—”

“Relax.” Rory snorted. “You stay as long as you need.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He pushed open a door on the right, stepping into a bedroom with white walls and a huge made-up bed. Ollie inhaled the clean smell, then reached a tentative hand toward the mattress. He squeezed.

“It’s comfy, I promise,” Rory said.

Ollie sat down on the bed. It would’ve fit him and Teddy comfortably. He hated that his mind had gone there already, to the impossible, the fantasy of him and Teddy dozing in the morning sun together in a clean, warm room. His neck prickled with the ghost of Teddy’s breath. He slapped his hand over his skin, counting to ten while the sensation faded.

“You can borrow some of my clothes,” Rory said. “We’ve got towels, spare toothbrushes, soap, shampoo, that kind of stuff, and if you’re hungry, the fridge and the cupboard are always well stocked. Help yourself. I mean that. I haven’t forgotten how bad prison food is, and you barely ate any of your macaroni cheese.”

“It was too…” Ollie scrunched up his nose. “Too nice, too rich.”

Rory smirked. “It takes a while to readjust to taste.”

Ollie lowered his gaze. “Aren’t you going to ask me why?”

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