Wilhelm thinks back on all the ways he communicated his love when he was with Kelson. Sitting with him in the library and listening to him explain whatever historical tome he had his nose buried in that day. Coaxing him out of the castle to take a walk or share a drink together. Holding his hand, resting his head on his shoulder, playing with his hair, so many little touches that felt like something big to him. Kissing him, slow and sweet and deep — and stopping before they plunged in too far, when Kelson would hit that invisible wall and freeze up. Wilhelm didn't mind waiting for him.

It stings now, knowing that he'd never get to communicate his love for him in that way.

Taking a slow breath in, he tries to absorb Will's reassurance, to supplant those doubts. In the back of his mind, though, he can still hear Kelson whispering, I think I might be broken. He thinks those words will haunt him for the rest of his life.

"How did you and Nico meet?" he asks, reaching for something happier to think about. He finally makes to pull the marshmallow off the stick.