They tried to organise another time to catch up after Confidence finished off a few of the other books. Instead of meeting at the communal garden, he’d suggested that Lonely come to his house, where it was quieter and there were fewer people to see them talking. He finally seemed to understand that no one could ever see them.

The unfortunate thing was, Confidence’s house was in the middle of Zajed, in the opposite direction of the marketplace. If someone like Sadness or Disgust saw him, he didn’t know what he would do, or what they would do. He had to be careful.

For the most part, no one took much notice of him as he walked down the streets. The buildings were a strange mix of different eras. He passed greek temples and small versions of medieval palaces and whatever else the emotions decided their homes should be. He had no idea what Confidence’s would be, but it was safe to assume that it would be something grand, fitting for the emotion he was named for.

He was lucky that no one questioned what he was doing and that he didn’t pass anyone he really knew. Love had walked past him at one point, his dark eyes narrowing when he saw Lonely, but he didn’t say a word. Still, it was enough to make the sick feeling from the week before settle in his stomach.

There was a satchel bag on his shoulder, smacking against his hip with every step. Inside it was a few books he thought Confidence might like. He wasn’t sure if he’d finished all the ones he’d bought from Wisdom’s stall, but surely he would welcome a few more. It was like a small book club shared with just the two of them. It was nice.

Confidence’s house was tucked in between two massive mansions or differing styles, one from Asia, the other European, but Confidence’s house was nothing like he expected it to be. It was a small, double story cottage made of bricks and a tiled roof. It was quaint, with shutters on the windows and flower bushes in the small front yard, nothing like the places on either side of it.

The man in question waited in the window and waved when Lonely stopped in front of the white picket fence. The dark front door opened and Confidence, dressed in a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, walked down the stone path towards the gate.

Lonely was far too overdressed and he blushed when Confidence’s eyes raked up and down. He had on his dark overcoat and grey waistcoat, but wearing them made him feel good. “I like your waistcoat,” Confidence said, smiling at him and his shame about his clothes disappeared in an instant.

“Thank you,” he said and smiled when the other man opened the gate for him. The front garden was well looked after, with flower bushes and trimmed grass. “Your house is pretty.”

“This is nothing,” Confidence said, chuckling. “You should see the back garden.”

Unsure of what exactly he meant, Lonely wandered into the home, taking off his shoes and leaving them by the door with his coat. It was as neat and quaint inside than it was outside and despite how plain it was compared to other homes, Lonely stood frozen with awe at it all. Everything had its own spot and was placed in such a way that it wasn’t cluttered but elevated the rest of the space.

The sitting room Confidence led him to was perfect. The fireplace wasn’t lit, but sat serenely, the mirror above it making the room seem bigger and the little plants on the mantle in perfect health. A sofa and two chairs sat before it, a coffee table between them. Bookshelves lined the walls bar for the one opposite the fireplace, where a bay window sat, cushions piled high. There was one empty space, the only flaw with the room.

“Are you alright?” Confidence asked. He was already sitting on the sofa, pouring tea from a set that sat on the coffee table.

He nodded and sat in a rush. “I’m fine. I just… This wasn’t what I expected your home to be like. It’s lovely,” he said.

“You were expecting it not to be lovely?” Confidence asked.

Immediately, Lonely’s cheeks flushed and his ears burned. “No, no, that’s not what I meant-” he said and cut off when he saw the other man’s eyes crinkling. It was a joke. He was joking around with him. The smallest of smiles spread across his lips. “I thought it would be a bit more… Grand.”

“Like a mansion? I tried it once, but I think I prefer this. Anything bigger has far too much space for one person,” Confidence explained and there was something in his voice that Lonely couldn’t explain.

He sipped at his tea, looking around the room. Only one of the shelves had books on it and they were all the ones Lonely had recommended to him. Two sat on the table before them, the one's Confidence must have finished in the time since they had last spoken.

“What is the empty space for?” he asked, frowning in confusion.

Confidence chuckled. “I’m still in the middle of building the bookshelves,” he answered. “I know it sounds strange, but I prefer building some of my furniture instead of wishing it into existence.”

He didn’t even have to think before he replied. “It doesn’t sound strange,” he said. It didn’t, not at all, and all he could think was how embarrassed he was for being one of the many people who did wish things in reality. He hadn’t even thought about doing it himself. “I could help you if you wanted?”

“Are you sure?” Confidence asked with a frown. “It’s not exactly the most entertaining thing to do.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You’re a strange person, Lonely,” he said and before the sick feeling could settle in Lonely’s stomach, Confidence grinned at him. “I like it.”

And that was how they ended up on the floor of Confidence’s living room, planks of wood between them and Confidence trying to explain how exactly a bookshelf was built. Once Lonely got the hang of how to use the tools, it was easy work and they were able to talk about the main reason they’d organised to spend time together: the books.

He’d finished almost all of them, stating that he’d had far too much time on his hands and he enjoyed reading for more than he thought he would. The ones on the table were his current favourites and Lonely enjoyed seeing what kind of stories he liked.

Even though they were only constructing a bookshelf and drinking tea, Lonely found himself enjoying it a lot more than he thought he would. He was no longer nervous when he was around Confidence; the man-made him comfortable. He made sure that no one knew they were talking and being friends and he didn’t seem to mind that Lonely had no idea what he was going. It was nice, sweet.

When it was half-built and looking a little messier than Lonely had hoped, he reached over and grabbed the satchel bag from the sofa. “I was wondering what you’d brought,” Confidence said with his ever-present smile.

“More books,” Lonely answered and pulled them out. “I was looking through my collection and grabbed some I thought you might like.”

He could have sworn there was a light dusting of pink on Confidence’s cheeks, but he pushed it to the back of his mind, not wanting to think about it. “Thank you,” he said and took the books from him to read what they were about. “I’ll return them to you when I’m done.”

“No, you can keep them,” he said before he thought about it properly.

“But they’re your books,” Confidence replied, a frown replacing the barely visible blush.

Lonely shrugged, too far into it to back out. “I haven’t read them in a long time. It’s alright. If I decide I want to read them again, I can just borrow them off you,” he said, even though it was a lie. There were two in there that he loved, but he didn’t mind so much if Confidence had them. It felt right to give him something after how kind he’d been to him.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t sure,” he said and pointed at the bare shelves around the room. “Besides, I think you need a few more books.”

“I think you’re right. I built far too many shelves, but I’m planning on expanding my collection,” he replied. Lonely stood, books in hand, and walked over to the one bookshelf that held something. There was no organisation of the small number of books so he placed them as gently as he could.

He stepped back with a smile, shooting a sheepish look at his friend. “You’re far more organised than I am,” he mumbled, thinking back to his messy home. He hadn’t seen much point in cleaning the stacks of books, nowhere was supposed to see it but him. “I need to build a new room for all my books.”

“I like your house. It’s like a library,” Confidence replied and gestured for him to sit again. “When we’re done here, do you want to see the back garden?”

Lonely frowned; Confidence had mentioned the garden before. “Sure,” he said. He wondered what it would look like, considering the front garden was so neatly looked after. It had to be beautiful, like everything about his new friend.

Finishing up the bookshelf was a quick and easy affair that ended with them placing it against the wall and stepping back with matching grins. It had been a lot more fun than he had expected, even though he’d been the one to suggest it.

Confidence rambled to him about the books and Lonely, who had read so many that he didn’t remember every detail about them, nodded along with what he said. It didn’t seem to matter that he didn’t contribute much to the conversation, it flowed just fine with his occasional inputs.

“Well, come on,” Confidence said. “I can make you some more tea if you want?”

Lonely declined and with butterflies in his stomach, followed Confidence down the hall to the back door. He took a deep breath as the door opened and a halo of light bloomed around Confidence’s tall form. It was beautiful, the way it shone around him, illuminating his wavy hair and cheerful grin.

Then he was gone, disappearing through the doorway. “What are you standing there for?” he asked, his voice far away. “Come have a look!”

It was even more amazing than he had thought it would be. It looked nothing like the front garden, which was neat and quaint. The back garden looked like the ones he had seen in Japan sometimes, with a little river running down the middle towards a pond in front of the door. He and Confidence stood on a wooden deck above it, the former staring around him in wonder.

It was strange that they had both taken inspiration from the same nation. While Lonely took on the appearance, Confidence made a physical representation of it through his garden. It was far better than anything Lonely could hope to produce.

Two stone paths branched off from the deck, wrapping around the garden to meet at a bridge over the river. Plants he didn’t know the names of filled every space bar for a small courtyard with two chairs, perfectly placed so it didn’t seem too crowded. Flowers of every colour met his gaze and he didn’t know quite where to look.

“Wow,” he gasped. “Did you do all of this by hand?”

“Except the river and the path,” Confidence answered and held out a hand to him. Ignoring the heat in his cheeks and the feeling in his stomach, he grabbed Confidence’s hand and allowed him to lead him towards the chairs. “I built the chairs and grew all the plants myself once I magicked in the seeds.”

He couldn’t stop his eyes from jumping from one thing to the next. “It’s stunning,” he whispered.

They sat on the chairs and listened to the river run next to them. They didn’t need to speak, the silence was uncomfortable or awkward and Lonely found that he was actually enjoying the peace with someone next to him.

“I’m glad you like it,” Confidence said, a late reply to his earlier words.

He couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you for showing me this,” he said. It felt like an honour to be shown something so close to Confidence’s heart, especially when they were still getting to know each other.

“I like to show it off a bit,” the other man replied with a laugh.

“It’s something you should show off.”

Confidence smiled at him again but it was different from his other smiles in a way that Lonely couldn’t explain. It was softer, sweeter, but he didn’t know what it meant. Even so, he smiled back and settled into the chair, closing his eyes and breathing in the fresh, clean air.

The chairs were so close together that if he moved his arm off the armrest, it would brush against Confidence’s. There was a part of him that whispered in the back of his mind to move his hand over and let it rest there, just to see what would happen, but he didn’t know why.

He pushed the thoughts away, content just to sit in the fresh air, calmer than he had been in a long time. Next to him, Confidence sighed but Lonely didn’t open his eyes to see what he was doing. His arm dropped from the armrest to dangle at his side and he hissed in a breath when his hand brushed against the other man’s.

There wasn’t a chance to question it, because a yell from the front of the house startled him out of the calm space and the sick feeling in his stomach returned. “Confidence! Where are you?” The voice was unfamiliar, masculine and enough to scare him.

Even so, he jumped from the seat and shot a look to Confidence. “It’s just Love, it’s alright. You don’t need to worry,” he said as he pushed to his feet.

“I do!” he hissed. “What if he goes back to Sadness and tells them?”

Confidence’s hands rested on his arms, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his skin. “He won’t. Trust me. Love has the same opinions as-”

But he never got to finish his sentence, because the back door opened and Love’s dark figure walked out onto the deck. “Oh,” he said in a deep voice, glancing between the two of them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a guest.”

Everything within Lonely screamed for him to run, so that was what he did. “I was just leaving,” he mumbled, not even shooting Confidence a glance before he walked up to the deck. Love was far taller and far broader than him, but there was a kindness in his dark eyes and the set of his lips. Lonely didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out if that kindness was real.

“Lonely, wait!” Confidence yelled as he walked down the hallway, running to stop him at the door. “You don’t need to leave, I swear!”

He shook his head despite the voice within him that wanted to stay. “I can’t be here. I’m sorry, but it’s easier this way,” he muttered, not looking him in the eye.

“Easier for who? Because it definitely isn’t you,” Confidence replied and while the words sounded as though they should be angry, there was a sadness to them that made Lonely only want to leave more.

Confidence seemed to realise that and moved his hand away from the door. As the cold air hit his skin, Lonely tried to smile. “I’ll see you another time, alright?” he said, relieved when Confidence nodded.

The door closed behind him and everything fell silent. He was an idiot, but he couldn’t go back after the display he had made. He didn’t want Sadness to find out that he was going against them, it was too dangerous. But he wanted a friend so desperately, even if it had to be a secret forever.

As he walked out onto the street, the first tear rolled down his cheek.