"You shouldn't go. It's a mistake." Boris started, with a little shake of the head while he spoke. You and Theo were going back to New York.

"I have to go." Theo protested. At this point, the conversation was between the both of them because you couldn't talk. You were in the middle of this. "Now, are you coming or not?"

Boris kept looking up and down, thoughtful. His expression was hurt. He made his decision. "You go ahead. I'll follow. One or two days!"

"You have to come. Promise me." Theo pleaded, distressed.

"We'll go to Brighton Beach. That's where all of the Russians hang out," Theo continued, out of breath. "And we can go to school together-"

"Potter." Boris began, cutting him off. The nickname that he always used for him. His eyes flickered to Theo's, than to yours. You had no say in this. He muttered your nickname hesitantly.

"And.." Theo trailed off, and Boris couldn't think anymore. He stepped up, his hands coming down to cup his cheeks. Boris kissed Theo for a short moment. After pulling away, he immediately went to you and did the same, warm hands on your face and his lips merging with yours. He pulled away again.

"Good luck." Was all what Boris said. He himself looked in disbelief of what he did.