Page 92 of Butterfly

Teddy called Ollie his butterfly. Ollie had always assumed it had been affectionate, intimate, but maybe he’d been wrong. Captain seemed to read Ollie’s expression.

“Teddy…” Captain sighed.

Ollie’s heart skipped a beat. He’d so badly wanted to ask, but it was Captain’s release day. It wasn’t about him, or Teddy, or their agreement.

“What about him?” Ollie asked, but his voice had turned shrill and his eyes burned.

Captain sighed. “I know you write to him… Every week like you said you would.”

“Like I promised I would,” Ollie corrected. “You’ve seen him get them?”

“Yes, I’ve seen Ian give him the letters. Everyone knows they’re from you.”

“And have you seen Teddy open them? Read them?”

Captain shook his head. “He takes them into his cell, then comes back out.”

“He doesn’t read them straight away?” Ollie whispered. “I’d stop whatever I was doing just to read a single word from him.”

Captain sat up. “We offered. Me, Jack, Green, and not once, but every time he got a letter from you, but he shook his head.”

“I thought I knew him. I thought I understood him, but how can he cut me out like this? How can he break the promise he made me?”

“He might think it’s for the best. He might be trying to let you go completely.”

“He’s supposed to do theopposite. I told him I didn’t want to be let go.” Ollie lowered his voice. “I didn’t want to get out. I wanted to stay with him.”

“I know you did.”

“And I’m trying, I really am trying, but it feels like an act. I didn’t have to act with him.” He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them to ask, “What’s his nickname?”

“Huh?”

“Jarvis? What do you call him?”

Captain’s face lit up with a smile. “Socks.”

“Socks,” Ollie repeated, frowning. “He wears quirky socks?”

Captain zipped his mouth shut again, chuckling to himself.

“You like him.”

Captain narrowed his eyes with suspicion. “Yes…”

“I like him too.”

“Good.”

“But I suspect in a different way to you.”

Captain raised an eyebrow. “Stop fishing.”

“I was unaware there were fish at this pond.”

Captain laughed, shaking his head.

“I think I can count the number of times I’ve heard you laugh on one hand,” Rory said from the doorway. His brown hair stuck up at odd angles, and his eyes sagged with tiredness, but a smile stretched his lips.

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