"That's just a guesswork." A vein pulsed in Alastair throat. "Tom, you patrolled alone at night because you like things that are dangerous and unhealthy for you. I won't be one of those things."
He began to turn away. Thomas reached out to catch him, and the fell of Alastair's shoulder under his fingers almost undid him. He had touched him, like this, in the Sanctuary: had rested his hands on Alastair's shoulders, letting Alastair bear up his weight as they kissed.
"Don't," Alastair said, not looking at him. "It isn't possible. It won't ever be."
He pulled away, hurrying to rejoin Jem. Thomas stood looking after them as they vanished down the hall. Somehow, he kept expecting Alastair to turn and look back at him, even once. But Alastair never did.