Noah's touch is light, just a brush of fingers against Freddie's forearm and, though Freddie doesn't pull away, he does go tenses, holding his bottle tighter.

And then immediately relaxes as Noah continues, letting out a breath. Everything that's happened here is safer than anything that happened back home. So far, at least. But he has to wonder what names Noah's heard, who he's thought about.

He lets out a laugh, a half scoff and shakes his head. "What's the point? It always turns out the same. Someone always gets hurt."

That always used to be Freddie until he'd made a promise to himself not to let it happen anymore, not to get too close. It's easier to be the one to leave than the one left behind. Or at least that's what he's always thought.