Derek's hand is warm and reassuring on the back of neck, a settling sort of weight. Better yet, his words aren't pitying or condescending and I'm suddenly not sure why I didn't just tell him earlier. It's not really that I ever thought Derek would make me feel worse, but admitting to everything felt so very pathetic.

But, even if Derek doesn't see me the way I see him, I don't think he believes I'm pathetic. I guess I just have to remind myself of that sometimes.

"Simon isn't an idiot," I argue with a small Simon. I know I'm definitely right about that one, but I can't deny that Derek saying otherwise feels sorta nice. Which is awful, I know, but it does. "He's actually really very nice. We're just not right for each other, I guess. But it sure felt nice to be wanted for awhile, even if it wasn't for long." Tipping my head back, I look up at him then, my face warm but my smile hopefully even warmer. "I'm glad things are better for you now than they were a few years ago. And I'm glad... I mean, I miss home every single minute of every day, but I'm glad I met you. I'm glad I can call you my friend."