The pair of them met up the next day to record the pieces Cas had selected. Despite their unwavering focus, it was as if a veil had been lifted between them. The uncertainty from the previous months dissipated, familiarity lingering in each other’s presence like the sting of salt between tides, in the crook of Cas’ fingers and elbows, and Erik’s gentle peppermint scent. Words would not come, could not be emphasised other than the beating of their hearts. 

Each movement was filmed separately, and the finalised files checked and named. Within the week, Cas submitted his application through the Institute's website. Neither Silas, Alexander or Johan seemed to be aware of anything concerning Cas as long the work around the house was uninterrupted. 

For a short while, Cas wasn’t at the end of Alexander’s unfavourable moods, and he hadn’t handed him the assignments they had to do over the holidays. It appeared that all their applications have gone well, much to their father’s satisfaction. Despite the initial disapproval, the air between Silas and Johan seemed to have calmed.

Now that their midterms were over, winter break arrived. When Cas wasn’t scrubbing dishes at the restaurant, he and Erik would meet again and again whenever he was able to leave the house in the evenings, which wasn’t entirely difficult now the twins had turned sixteen.

More often than not, Alexander resorted to endless parties and clubbed when he was certain he could get away with it. 3ams were about turning up at the door slumped against Johan, who never appeared to be under the influence. 

Happiness was in the flurry of words exchanged, in the tilt of Erik’s lips, numb fingers intertwined under the stars. Cas had protested when Erik cornered him against the wall in the rented room, firmly stating that it was unbecoming and they should focus. Erik had mumbled into his sweater that he wouldn’t mind staying like this forever.

‘What if someone walks in? We’ll get kicked out. And website states, “not to be used for any other purposes.”’

‘Okay, but you have the key. Nobody’s going to know.’

‘And what about the nearby rooms? They might hear.’

‘So? It’s the 21st century.’ 

Cas had reddened, the warmth soon chased away with a light kiss. 

The duet was not forgotten, but the definition of breaks were subjective when they drank in each other’s scent, teasing traces along collarbones and longing to hear every syllable tumbling from lips, as if they were air to their lungs. 

Sometimes playing was made of Erik’s left hand and Cas’ right, the music clumsy and almost outrageous, surely making Shubert roll in his grave. Sometimes they would listen to the other, patience in stray plinks and perfect thirds. Spring would arrive early, grasses bristling into applause under a subtle breeze, then a melancholic, lonely winter watering down sunlight. Scarlatti and John Fields and Chopin murmured into cups of peppermint tea that had long gone cold, and there was only the recognition of side profiles and backsides, muscles shifting beneath skin as the night turned young. 

Tonight, they were few among many nested at the park near the riverbank. People came and went, walking beside the still waters. It was now silent from the drifting boats and hustle of activities that would take place during the day. 

‘Stop worrying.’

‘Is it that obvious?’ 

‘It’s written all over your face. You’ve done your best.’ 

Cas didn’t say anything. He shouldn’t expect to be able to attend Lagen, but now that the thought had formed, it was difficult to ignore the possibility. It would be mid January when the decision would be announced, and Cas knew this winter break would be the longest one yet. 

‘Have you told your father?’ Erik said. ‘With how you’ve been practising alone...I’m guessing he doesn’t know?’ 

‘No, he doesn’t,’  Cas murmured. 

‘If you make it through to the competition rounds, I’m sure he’ll acknowledge your abilities. My father was disapproving once too, he wished for me to be a medic like him. Of course, you can imagine his horror when he found out I’m in Class C.’ 

‘I hope so.’ In spite of the lovely scenery and the calm night air, Cas’ heart grew heavy. He fell silent again, not knowing what else to say.

Even though the Cruzes had never shown any intention or desire to reveal Cas’ position in the house and their relations, it was no kind gesture, nor one that indicated their ignorance. One slip of the tongue and he would be an outcast, someone with no family or connections. He would be a parasite, and Silas only a man too charitable for his own good. Above all, Erik would have nothing to do with him. 

Erik thrusted a small velvet pouch to Cas. ‘Here.’ 

Cas tipped the pouch, and a small bracelet chain fell onto his palm. The charm was small and delicate, resembling the shape of a puzzle piece. 

‘Merry Christmas,’ Erik said. He helped Cas fasten the chain, and the words of going overboard were silenced when an identical chain at Erik’s wrist glinted in the moonlight. The two puzzle charms fit together when placed side by side, and the sight made Cas’ chest warm up. 

‘You should come over to mine over the holidays. Mother is always saying I’m too aloof for my own good, so I’m sure she would love to meet you.’ 

Cas smiled, ‘I would love to.’