The figure stood there in the gap between the parked cars, still, unbothered by how close it had just come to him.
The street held its evening quiet around them.
The canopy light from the coffee place threw a small circle of warmth onto the pavement a few doors down.
Beyond that the streetlights did their orange work at intervals, pooling and fading, pooling and fading, and past the last one the dark just kept going, thick in a way that regular dark wasn't.
Liam looked at him and didn't move.
The figure looked back.
Neither of them said anything for a while. The kind of while that stretched because both people in it were comfortable letting it stretch, neither one needing to fill it first.
"What do you want," Liam said finally. "Again."
"You think I'm joking." The voice came out flat, almost bored. "About what happens if you don't agree. About someone you love getting hurt because of it."
