Hearing Freddie say he sometimes wished he was someone else made Armaan ache inside. But god, could he understand that. Not that he ever talked about it, aside from when the racism incident at his first job in broadcasting made him wish, for a fraction of a second, he could change the colour of his skin. At least he had realised that was bullshit and he should wish the racists weren’t complete assholes instead. No, this was a deeper wish-
“I’ve thought the same thing. Wished it. Not ever since being with you,” he said, lifting his face to smile sadly at Freddie. “Sometimes I wished my late teens and early twenties weren’t defined by entirely taking care of three other people. And I feel so fucking guilty about it. If I had to do it all over again, of course I would choose the same thing. But sometimes- Anyway. I know the feeling. And I hate you know it too. I love you for who you are, Freddie. At least the parts I know. And the beautiful thing is that now I get to find out about the parts I didn’t know.”