"Brad, this is dangerous."

"It's literally not. You've gone against vampires before and killed them with no real issue. This is nothing."

"Getting rid of vampires is one thing. Taking my chances with something so vicious is completely different!"

Brad had to look in another direction to keep his teasing smile hidden. 

The oh-so dangerous task Leah was complaining about stood before them. A wide metal cooling rack stood to one side, napkins perched beneath it to catch any sort of mess. On the other side, prepped empanadas were waiting to be dunked in an oil bath. Said liquid had finally come to a hot enough temperature to begin cooking properly. All they needed to do now was begin placing each savory snack inside.

"Really, Leah, if we don't start, the oil is going to burn."

"But it's going to splash!"

"...I don't think it's that serious."

"Then you do it!"

Shrugging, Brad had no qualms in picking up several empanadas and placing them in the pot without using any utensils. As soon as the first turnover made contact, oil bubbles rushed to the surface to begin the frying process. They became more frantic as more food was added to cook. Using his hands in such a free manner didn't give him any protection against the occasional pop. One specific bubble burst, splashing against his wrist.

He looked at it with a deadpan expression. "Oh no. The oil. It got me. What ever will I do."

"Brad, that's not funny."

"Oh- I spoke too soon. My arm. It's going to fall off."

"Brad-"

"I've lost the battle. The empanadas have defeated me. Ay dios míooooo. Por queeeee."

Brad's nonchalant theatrics were successful in pulling a laugh out of Leah.

She took a step forward to help cook.

And she screeched when another bubble popped against her arm.

This time, it was Brad's turn to chuckle.

*

A bright sun flaunted its heated beams to the Earth without mercy. There wasn't a cloud in sight to bring any reprieve from the scorching heat. Rain was forecasted to arrive within the coming hours, however, signaled by a sort of mugginess which left hair frizzy and skin extra damp.

Although this sort of temperature wasn't in a range many people found pleasant, there were little bits of nature which continued on, unbothered by the toasty graze of late summer La Push.

A pretty butterfly approached the front porch where a new bed of flowers had been planted. The creature's body was white and fuzzy. Striped antennae led up to dual black nubs at their tips. Long, rounded wings were black at the edges with specks of white mixed into a cool blue on top. On the underside, a fine white color was overtaken by random sections of gray and black.

The butterfly flapped its wings twice after landing directly on Brad's finger.

"Hm. Cute," he muttered to himself.

Since there wasn't a need to shield his body from prying eyes at Emily's house, Brad was able to soak up the sun's rays openly. His sparkling skin was still fascinating to observe. It even caused tiny fragments of rainbow-colored light to bounce off of the small insect taking refuge on him. Perhaps it was intrigued by his supernatural features and wanted to get a closer look.

Brad didn't mind since he was given an opportunity to observe something he found interesting too.

Approaching footsteps made him glance toward the treeline.

Leah was caught walking out onto the grass. Her arms were up because she was in the process of trying to put her hair into a high ponytail. Doing so caused the muscles in her arms to push themselves out a bit. Her shirt had ridden up toward her belly button as well, showing off the faintest outline of toned abdominal muscles.

Brad took in her overall form with a strange warmth pushing through his chest.

He barely noticed when the butterfly flew away.

"I can't tell you how happy I am to be done with patrol for the day. I was practically baking out there."

"Want me to toss you in the freezer?"

"Please and thank you."

Chuckling, Brad met Leah at the bottom of the stairs. He took it upon himself to gather her strands into his own hands so he could finish styling them himself. A silky hair tie was passed his way, granting silent permission for him to do what he wanted.

Leah's head was tilted upward to make sure her ponytail wouldn't be lopsided. Even though Brad's focus was on his task, he could feel her eyes on him.

They looked at each other for a split second.

A charming grin came further to life when noticing soft cheeks tinged with red.

*

Brad was in the middle of washing fresh strawberries when Leah entered the house with a deep frown on her face. Her clothes appeared a bit ruffled. Dark bags lined her lower eyelids, shedding light on her bone-deep fatigue. Her hair was tangled and messy—kind of like she'd been raking her fingers through it out of frustration.

She plopped down onto a free chair, leaning her head against her crossed arms.

Brad shook the strainer in his hands to clear fruit of any residual water sticking to their surfaces. He plated them in a circle, leaving open a wide space. Multiple spice dishes were placed against one another. Each one was filled with a different flavor additive: honey, homemade whipped cream, chocolate sauce, buttercream frosting. Once each flavor enhancer was added, the plate was put in the middle of the dining table for everyone to grab what they liked.

Brad was gentle when allowing his hands to carefully wrap around Leah's biceps to get her attention.

He leaned close enough for his breath to be felt against her ear. "Coffee?"

She nodded.

"Light and sweet?"

She shook her head.

"Splash of milk and creamer?"

A scratchy hum answered the straight forward question.

"You got it. Just hang tight. There are some leftover creampuffs from earlier. I'll grab you one. I'll microwave it for a few seconds too so it's nice and warm."

"...Thank you."

Brad brought a hand up to give a light massage to Leah's scalp. "Course. I'll be back in a minute."

*

A heavy, natural fragrance of salt erupted from a serene ocean with so much intensity, Brad could taste it. Humidity settled in the summer's cool breeze, causing his skin to feel sticky with moisture. Tiny beads of translucent water glistened as they clung to his arm hairs. Those beads reflected pale yet stunningly bright, white light when angling them in a certain way.

Brad appreciated a small army of dollops clinging to him before bringing his attention back down.

His heightened vision made it a lot easier to view marine life without having to dunk his head below the surface. So, while perched comfortably atop a grouping of flat, crowded rocks, he was able to watch sea creatures go about their lives, undisturbed, in their natural habitat.

Several species of shiny-scaled fish swam peacefully near the surface of the water. They kept closer together in large groups, only separating if another sea creature needed to pass through. Further down, he could make out an occasional wild salmon scouring the depths for a late night snack. Tiny shellfish were traversing across the sandy ocean floor, randomly snipping at bundles of seaweed or flipping pebbles over.

Brad felt at peace as he watched, listening to waves crashing further down.

"Something on your mind?" Leah asked.

She greeted her imprint with a soft pat to his shoulder. Then, she sat close enough for their knees to touch.

Humming, Brad brought his gaze toward the sky again. "Do you think fish are ever envious of crabs?"

"Not really. Why? Do you?"

"To an extent. Crabs are able to leave the water and watch a full moon, sunrise, or sunset above the surface. They're able to feel the air. They can taste what humans experience, even if only for a few seconds at a time. They get to live a life their fish brethren don't even know exists."

"That was...strangely poetic."

"I'm the type of person who finds meaning in almost everything I see. Everything is a work of art in its own way. That's how you can find beauty in the simplest details."

Leah didn't say anything in response. Instead, she simply watched Brad as he took in the world around them. She admired a vibrant blue tint clinging to his skin, as well as the unruly fashion of his untamed curls while they danced in the wind.

He wasn't doing anything aside from gazing out toward a far away horizon.

And, somehow, like he said, Leah was able to see immense beauty in an act which was otherwise entirely mundane.

*

One of the best things about staying at Marshall and Paul's house was the ability to sit in a quiet field, away from busy streets, to bask at nature's beauty. Minimal light pollution gave a darkened sky the ability to shine brightly. It was much easier to make out specific constellations and catch an occasional shooting star. Fresh air also smelled a bit different, taking on a scent of crisp pine instead of nearby eateries or gasoline. The only neighbors to worry about were small hordes of fireflies dancing in glowing groups across the dewy lawn.

Brad was shielded from the world in a way that gave him a chance to breathe comfortably.

There wasn't anything to deal with, anything to acknowledge, except himself and a certain person sitting beside him. A plate of warm churros were cooling off between them, and a mug of Spanish hot chocolate gave off extra waves of cozy heat.

Eyeing both items made Brad ponder about his culture again. This time, though, instead of focusing on food, he found himself thinking about the person who taught him how to cook.

"Do you like the cocoa?" he asked, a distant gaze focused on luminescent insects.

Leah pulled her legs in to cover them with a fuzzy blanket. "I do. It's thicker than I'm used to, but it's a nice change. Using real chocolate pieces instead of just the powder makes a big difference."

"I'm glad you think so. It's a recipe I learned from my abuelita- or, my grandma, Carla. She started teaching me her ways in the kitchen when I was, like, seven. We lived in a cozy little cottage surrounded by wildflowers. It was in the countryside of Sevilla, which is the capital of Andalucía. There were a couple of acres around the house, so we got a lot of our fruits and veggies that way. We only ever really went to the market for things like meat, bread, milk, and stuff like that. Abuelita usually made her foods from scratch too. Our house always smelled either like pastries or savory dishes. It was really nice."

"So..." Leah gnawed on her bottom lip while deciding if she should ask for more information. "You were raised by your grandma? Not your parents?"

"Yeah. My dad was visiting Sevilla when he met my mom. They were together while he was in the city, and she didn't realize she was pregnant with me until after he left. They didn't have each other's contact info because what they had was just a fling. She never really pursued him either. At least, that's what I heard.

"My mom raised me from birth to roughly age five. She couldn't really take the pressures of being a single mother at such a young age- young being twenty eight. So, instead of putting me up for adoption or whatever, she gave full custody to abuelita. And then, once the papers were signed, mom went off to do...whatever. I don't actually know. I don't really care either. She chose to live her life the way she wanted. In the end, I think I was blessed to be raised by someone as kind and caring and patient as abuelita. I don't know how I would've turned out had I been raised by my birth giver."

Leah nodded in understanding. She brought her mug closer to her face, simply to enjoy the aroma of sweet chocolate. "Was it just you two?"

"Mostly. My abuelito, Rafael, passed away when I was ten. Before he did, even though he could've retired at his age because the house was already paid off, abuelito liked to work around the community. He did a lot of farm stuff but also liked to do deliveries for flower shops. Me and him had a lot of the same interests too, like music, food, and shows. Abuelita used to call me her little Rafa. Both because I reminded her a lot of abuelito, and because it's my middle name."

"That sounds cute. Brad Rafael Romero. All of those r's make it a pretty crazy tongue twister."

He offered a bashful grin. "My mom might not have known my dad well, but she at least knew his last name. And, for my culture, we get both parents' paternal last names. So, fully and legally, I'm Brad Rafael García Romero. Try saying that five times in a row."

Shaking her head, giggling, Leah took a sip of her drink. "How long was it just you and your grandma after your grandpa passed?"

"Seven years. She followed him about a year after I graduated high school. Abuelita was bordering her sixties when she took me in as a kid, so her passing away when I was so young wasn't really surprising. It was definitely hard, though. It wasn't like I thought I wasn't prepared to go abroad or anything like that. Abuelita taught me different Spanish dialects and some English to make sure I wouldn't have issues talking to people. She taught me how to cook, clean, garden. She taught me how to do taxes, handle a bank account, and all the other boring adult stuff. Abuelita raised me in a way where I knew I could handle being on my own when the time came.

"It just...it caught me off guard.

"Abuelita filled my days with smiles and laughter and a lot of love. Then, out of nowhere, she was gone. And all of that stuff went away. I was on break from college when it happened. Part of me felt guilty for not being home more often because I was working on my degree at the Institute of the Arts Barcelona. Abuelita's death put me in a pretty bad depression for a couple months. But I knew she'd be sad if I gave up on my dreams, so I did my best to push through. 

"I left high school early because of good grades, so I was able to graduate from college at nineteen. I tried to settle back down in Andalucía because abuelita left me everything- the house, the money, the car. But...I just couldn't. It didn't feel like home anymore. So I packed my bags and headed for the States to start a new life."

Brad could easily recall how frightened he was to make such a big decision. He remembered a sense of emptiness which trailed behind him when he closed the door to his childhood home for the last time. He remembered the deep yearning he felt when the townspeople promised to take care of everything until he came back. He remembered the fierce anxiety he had when boarding his plane.

He remembered how exposed he was when landing in Washington.

"It took me a good four months to land a job at the theater. Before I did, I lived in a shoebox apartment to keep from spending my money too quickly. But then I aced an audition for the Dance Company and for musical theater. From there, I met Marsh. Everything...became so much better after that."

The mere thought of his best friend caused a tender softness to come across Brad's face. His frantic thoughts calmed themselves. A haze of bad memories blossomed into some of his fondest.

"He helped me buy my car. He helped me buy my house and covered all the costs I couldn't until I was able to do it myself. He even took me on a bunch of shopping sprees to fill up my house- something about it being a welcoming gift after moving away from Spain. I felt really bad about it because he was spending a lot of money. You know what he told me when I apologized for him doing so much when I couldn't do a lot in return? He said: when it comes to the people I care about, I'll carry the world on my shoulders if it means they don't have to. He never even let me pay him back. 

"A few months down the line, our trust grew to the point where Marsh came out to me about being Pan. I told him that didn't change anything. He freaked out because he expected me to abandon him for being honest. That confession he told me rang through my head, and I realized I could carry the world for him in my own way too.

"And we- we changed each other's lives after that night."

Brad's voice was nothing short of awestruck. He spoke as if he was talking about someone he held in the highest regard. As if the subject of his memories was the most precious thing to ever grace his life.

Leah's lips parted in astonishment. "You two are...very intense when you talk about each other. I don't mean that in a bad way. You guys just seem a lot closer than normal friends would be."

"Well, to be fair, there's nothing normal about our relationship." Brad brought his attention to his companion, glancing between her eyes. "I know because of the whole imprint thing, you're bound to get territorial of me- if you're not already. But if you really want to understand me, I'll need you to listen without judging me. Or Marsh."

Leah could feel how serious their conversation was about to become. Part of her was concerned she was going to hear something she wouldn't appreciate. However, the life Brad lived before meeting her was his business. It didn't have anything to do with Leah; and whether she liked all the details or not, Brad's past was just part of who he was.

Besides, he listened to her with completely open ears when she needed it.

It was only fair to return the favor.

"Okay," she answered.

Brad took a deep breath before focusing back on the fireflies around them. "Marsh coming out to me opened the gates for us, in a sense. I've never truly given a label to my sexuality. I just let myself feel things for people without worrying too much about grouping it all under some sort of title. So, when Marsh told me he was Pan, I actually felt kind of relieved. Because I'd been attracted to him since I first saw him.

"We never really meant to pursue anything. Still, one night, during a sleepover, things took a bit of a turn while we were watching a movie. I remember looking at him so he could pass me the popcorn bowl. And I was just...I guess amazed is a good word. I thought he was a really beautiful person. I took a second to really admire how he was able to smile when so much crap was going on in his life. Then...he looked down at me and did just that. I'm not sure where I got the courage from, but I kissed him. And we ended up sleeping together.

"Marsh never referred to me as a fuck buddy or a friend with benefits. Us having sex never made anything weird either. We were still the same: working together, having fun at the bar together, spending some time away on the weekends together.

"There was a point where I realized I was developing a crush. I made it a point to never do anything about it. I knew, more than anything, Marsh just needed a friend. I knew trying to push our relationship in a different direction could mess things up. Could mess him up if things ever got to be too much. So to be completely open with him, I admitted to having those feelings. And when I told him I had no intention of moving things beyond what we already had, Marsh was actually really emotional. Even though we'd been each other's safe spaces for so long, he was still caught off guard that I was putting his feelings before mine.

"And that's when I realized the type of love I had for him wasn't really romantic. It was way more substantial than that."

Brad found himself thinking back to when Marshall first introduced him to Paul. How Brad, beneath his genuine delight and intrigue concerning the situation, felt something cold stirring inside him. How, each time he saw the couple together, a feeling of emptiness festered into something he only acknowledged when alone.

"Believe it or not, after Paul and Marsh got together, I got a little jealous. Not because of their ties as boyfriends or anything like that. It was more because of how strong their bond was. Is. They love each other in a way you can't easily put into words. The type of devotion they have can be seen clear as day whenever they look at each other. I saw it in Marsh's eyes right before I left for my Barcelona trip. We were at the bar, and he was opening up about how life's only gotten better because of Paul. And I wholeheartedly agree with that.

"I was jealous of them because I've never experienced that type of romantic love for someone before. My ex and I- our relationship was always toxic. I only agreed to get with her to make it a point to Marsh that I never expected him to be my boyfriend. To prove I meant what I said about putting him first. To make sure he knew I didn't keep him around just for sex. 

"My relationship was a mistake. 

"I couldn't be myself around my ex. I was happier when she was gone or away. I never questioned my feelings for her because I knew what we had wasn't love. Or anything close to it. But...I'm hoping I can experience it. One day."

Making eye contact again, a bout of silence settled between both people to let them soak up Brad's confession. His implication was hinted at with enough subtle clarity to make its meaning shine through: while he was open to the imprint/mate bond, he couldn't say for certain if he trusted it enough to actually make him fall in love. At the same time, Brad was still willing to reveal his heart for the chance at something extraordinary.

To be fully accepted, the person he was interested in would have to know his inner workings.

Which was why they were having this talk.

Because if his honest, deeply rooted feelings toward a specific person couldn't be taken into consideration, Brad didn't have faith in a romantic relationship with someone who couldn't understand.

"I'm in love with Marshall, but it's not in the traditional sense. When I think about him, I don't think, like, marriage, kisses, or things like that. When I think about him, I think about...the warmth of the sun. Of birds flying freely in a gentle, summer breeze. Of...the feeling someone would get when walking into their cozy house after a stressful day.

"I see Marsh as one of my soulmates. As someone I've always been meant to meet and who will be with me for the rest of my life. Maybe even the ones beyond if I ever die. The bond we have, it- I honestly think it wouldn't break or lose its strength even if we never saw each other again.

"I loved Marsh before. I love him now. And I'll love him forever. He feels the same way. He's even been open about it to Paul, and Paul has been able to accept it. To accept me. Not just as someone important to Marsh, but someone important to him too.

"So...yeah. That's where I stand." Brad folded his hands, letting his body hunch forward so he could rest his elbows on his knees. "I know this is a lot to take in. I'm telling you everything  because these are the feelings I have which aren't going to change. Even if we get together at some point. So, for the sake of not getting anyone hurt, I need to know if you accept me as I am. If you don't, that's fine. We'll just stay as we are now. To be legitimately open, though, I'm hoping you will. Because nothing sounds better than being able to spend eternity with all the people I care about. I don't want to have to choose. But if I'm put in the position where I have to...I'm sure you already know who I'd pick."