"Oh I don't know about that, they seemed as likely to punch each other as kiss each other. I suppose maybe that's just how rugby lads are."

He managed to say the word "lads" without cracking up, he feels he deserves recognition for this achievement.

"I think that is how rugby lads are. Also, most people who interact with Hywel want to punch him at some point."

"I haven't, yet, but I've interacted with him enough to be thoroughly convinced that it'll just be a matter of time.

"But why do you want to punch him?"

"I met him at this shitty little party that my sister dragged me to. She thought I needed to get out more. And - I think I did, to be honest, I wasn't in a good place. Because when I got there, I was scared. Of everybody. What if I said hello to that girl and she said something about my shoes, what if I chatted with him and he put something in my drink, what if I got so drunk I puked on the kitchen floor because I was drinking a little bit every time I got nervous and I was nervous constantly. That kind of thing. And Martha left me on my own, and I decided to go to the loo because that was the only place that seemed even possibly safe. And. He was standing in my way, not too far from the door, bantering with one of his awful mates, Dafydd. And I - kind of shrunk to get past them, and he said -"

"Oh, come on, we're not in any kind of defensive position. You don't have to dodge us that hard."

And I shrank even more, because that was the state I was in. I didn't tell him to fuck off, I just wanted to get by.

And he looked at me, and he actually looked a bit concerned. And he said "I'm not that scary, am I? Do you need some kind of escort?"

And Dafydd just laughed, and said "You're not that anything, Hywell. She's just a bit of a mouse. Am I right, mousey?" And he leaned over.

And I must've looked even worse, because Hywell grabbed Dafydd's shoulder and yanked him back so hard he landed on his arse. And Dafydd got back up, swearing the whole way, and I got out of there while I could.

"I was drinking the rest of the night to calm back down. Told I made an awful scene yelling at some English bastard about the sublime beauty of the Welsh tongue, or something. But apparently I looked like such a fragile little dove that Hywel couldn't leave me alone after, even though it was his mate who scared the shit out of me. Then it turned into whatever the Hell he's doing these days."

Come on. Surely it can't be as simple as clearing up a misunderstanding. Surely there'll be more to it?

But come to think of it, how does he even bring it up...? He can't just go "by the way that was not the reason why he liked you actually", that'd imply that he's been talking about her to Hywel which—is true but not true in a way that helps his goals any. He doesn't want her to think that he's just Hywel's new wingman trying to get him the girl, that's not—well, he supposes he is kind of meaning to do that but not like that.

"What has he been doing these days? Does he just, like, follow you around like a puppy or something, should I see if I can sit on him so he'll stop chasing after you?"

"He definitely does a lot of puppying. Tries to piss me off, sometimes, but also just... listens to me talk, with that annoying grin he has, like he's enjoying himself more than he should be. Or makes stupid little comments. Gives me his poetry. He's recommended me books. They weren't even bad books! He got me into Ursula Le Guin! Now I have to reckon with the fact that I started reading Le Guin because of a man, and not even one I like!"

"We each carry a piece of everyone we meet within us forever, even people we don't like. Your piece of him will be Ursula Le Guin."

He wonders if Sophie is genuinely unselfaware about what she just said or if she's playing it up? "He likes listening to me and thinks I'm grand, he is moved to art because of me, he figured my taste out so well he's started to give me good recommendations for things I'll like, ugh he sucks." Like, yeah, absolutely, that kind of personality can be pretty damn overwhelming or annoying or clingy but to hear Sophie say it it's like those things are bad. But are they? Is she really annoyed by that, does she really believe that she is?

Okay, to be fair, that can in fact get pretty creepy and annoying. But what was it that Hywel said earlier, that if people ask him to stop then he does? Pete doesn't think he was lying. No, he kind of thinks that Sophie hasn't asked him to stop.

"That's sort of a Le Guin sentiment, really. How - everything happens, whether you like it or not. You can't go back and change things - it wouldn't mean anything to go back and change things - so you just... live."

She blinks. "That was utterly melodramatic. But it was a silly thing to be complaining about in the first place, so."

"I am a shirtless pink-haired femboy, I will literally never ever judge you for melodrama or any other kinds of drama."

"It's really less your gender presentation, or your hair, or even your shirtlessness, than the fact that you're wearing a blazer over your bare chest like some kind of anime character."

He waves a hand vaguely. "It's my whole thing, you know. The aesthetic. Bayesian evidence and all that."

She nods.

He notices the confused hesitation and helpfully adds, "Don't worry about it, I don't make sense to myself half the time either."

Nod.

...why does he feel like he just put his foot in his mouth, he's not sure what he did wrong oh is that the thing Hywel mentioned about how everything gets cold and quiet and you feel like an alpha predator is sniffing after you when she gets mad. Is she mad.

Um.

"So, badminton?"

"Yeah. It's... fun. Very. Precise."

"Precise? I must confess I know very little about it—or even tennis, for that matter. Back home I used to play soccer—excuse me, football—and swim, and I messed around with volleyball and American football, but not much else."

Twitch. "I guess it's sort of like volleyball. If the ball were much smaller and faster. And you had a racket." She closes her eyes tightly for a moment, like somebody just jabbed her with a needle. "I should really be going."

"...sure. I'll, um, see you later then?"

"Sure, yeah."

She makes a break for it.