There was no escaping now, no easy way out from beneath the long shadow of his friend and tormentor. Adam tensed, his jaw clenching as he held James' eyes, fighting the instincts that still, after all these damnable years, told him to run. Keenly he felt the heat of James' skin, familiar in ways that could not, should not have been; he wondered at that, as certain of it as he was sure it was impossible. He felt the hair on his arms begin to rise, little pinpricks dancing at the nape of his neck. Their lips were a hand's breadth apart, their bodies closer than they had been since they were children, when James' torment had been more frequent but no better concealed.
"Why would I hurt her, James?" His voice was hushed, but behind those quiet words lay a slow sort of poison. Later, Adam would wonder what had made him say such a thing. Now, the words came too easily to stop. "You're the one who left her. For... how long, was it?"