Luke's intentions toward his nephew have been misinterpreted, and maybe this is a mercy.

There are still two men in Kathy's life.

“If there is anything else that can be said of Qinghe Nie,” Lan Xichen recites, helplessly faint, “it is that we take our weddings and our burials very seriously—”

“—For they are, to us, one and the same,” Nie Huaisang finishes for him. “You do remember.”

So maybe Matt signed up for this, but Foggy sure didn't — this thing that's eating his friend alive. Matt's back is to the wall, and Foggy is very very close, daring Matt to hit him maybe or wanting the scene to dissolve into something else — into Matt's arm snaked through his, maybe. Something from before.

**

Matt's just there to pick up his things, and Foggy's about ready to wrap their collaboration up for good. Things go a little sideways for both of them.

Justin lies to Alex every day.

Young Feyd is accustomed to being wanted. Piter is profoundly uninterested.

Kisse he me with the cos of his mouth.
For thi tetis ben betere than wyn, and yyuen odour with beste oynementis.
 

Richard and Anne make out in the bath.

No inch of his bared skin is a revelation to Tang Fan, but stripping before him still feels like an unveiling, marital. A deification of the profane.

It was her own damn poor luck to be in love with both of them. (The three work a job, deny their feelings, and get kidnapped. In that order.)

All too late / all too late.