"Mustn't talk." Jonathan wisely informed Edward as the other straddled him, hissing in fear that slowly turned into a low whine as he swore bats swarmed near his head. With Edward there, he shot forward and pressed his forehead against him. Oxytocin. It was good for fear, it reduced panic and anxiety. It was not weak, it was clever. He was clever. "About you. Never. Too many. I-I-I ... my bike broke. On the hill."

Jonathan distracted his mind, eyes struggling to focus on Edward. He was desperate to say anything and think anything about what he wanted from Edward. How much he wanted him and needed him. It seemed entirely unfair that he should talk about that and not whatever else he could kill time with. "It's dark, isn't it?"