Cold is the right word. The chill of separation is inescapable.

They can't live in each others' heads. Just like they can't stay a night and a day and a night in bed, despite what a good idea it feels like in the moment.

Daniel says this, offers this sweet expression of gratitude. Louis smiles, fingers grazing Daniel's jaw. A stray slip of thought, a lingering impression: I want to share everything with you.

Aloud, Louis tells him, "You let me in. Thanks."

Let him in. Let him stay.

Louis' fingers tighten around the link of their fingers, looking into Daniel's face. Missing him, absurdly. Missing him even though they're stood so close.

He lets go. The glass door slides open silently, and Louis twists the taps. Promises over his shoulder, "I'll run it hot."