"Unbelievable!"

Johnathan booted his bedroom door. The thin wood gave, and his foot shattered through in a shower of splinters. The sound was like a gunshot, ringing over thrice in Sherwin's head.

Steam practically billowed from Johnathan's nostrils as he glowered there, his shoulders heaving in the ghostly glow of the moonlight shimmering through the window.

Sherwin's fever had evaporated and his head was not as sensitive as it had been, but his throat was still raw. A good nap had been what needed, even if it did nothing to ease his cheek.

From beyond the reach of the moonlight, he watched as Johnathan paced around the bedroom in circles. From the limp with which he now walked, kicking the door had not been painless.

"How dare she!" he bellowed, firing his voice at the floor. "She doesn't listen to me – she doesn't know me – when anyone else is around, it's as if I don't exist! Being a mum is clearly not as important as ensuring that she gets her peace and quiet – oh, no, please forgive me for wanting to be acknowledged for once!"

Meekly, because he reluctant to tell Johnathan he was being a tad unfair, he said, "That was a bit mean…"

"Mean! How can you call me mean?!"

He rounded on Sherwin, who scuttled under the covers and hid from view. He softened almost immediately, realising who he was addressing.

An overwhelming sadness froze his heart when he approached the quivering lump on the bed. Sherwin must have had a sixth sense; as Johnathan reached out to him, the lump shuffled further towards the headboard, the duvet shuffling with it.

Sniffle.

Great going, Johnathan.

With a voice as tender as he could muster, tying the words into ribbons of love, he said: "Oh, no… Sher, I – I didn't mean…"

Sniffle.

Muffled sobbing began, tugging at Johnathan's heartstrings some more.

"Sher, please, come out. Talk to me."

"What – so you can shout some more?"

"Sherrybean… Please hear me out."

If pleading wouldn't work, the nickname certainly would. It may be a nickname Sherwin despised, but perhaps hearing it from Johnathan would be enough of a surprise for him to at least poke his head out of the covers.

"Don't call me that. You know I dislike it."

At least it wasn't an outright rejection.

"I promise to never call you it again – but only if you talk to me."

Peering over the duvet, dazzling amber reflected the light of the moon. They were wet, and sad, and yearning for love.

"Why did you snap at me like that?"

The answer to that was, Johnathan didn't know. No matter how much he racked his mind, he could find no excuse – the truth was that there simply wasn't one. Meeting Sherwin's gaze in that moment meant admitting something that Johnathan wasn't quite ready to accept. So, he stuck to staring at the bed sheets.

"Johnathan? Answer me, please."

"I'm sorry," he uttered. "It's just that – it's difficult. I look at the relationship you have with your mum and think, why not me? Why can't I have the kind of mother-son relationship you two have – your mum is sweet, and caring, and kind, and even though she's a bit intrusive, she's given you clear boundaries and tries not to cross them whenever she can help it. My mum? All I get is the cold shoulder when I try speaking to her, and on the off-chance she'll actually listen to what I have to say, she'll make light of it."

Sherwin kicked the covers back – shoved them onto the floor – and crossed his legs. He looked determined, frowning at Johnathan with an odd kind of speculation.

"Speaking to her might be a better idea than attacking her."

Sherwin hadn't said that. A voice behind the bedroom door had.

Emerging into the slice of moonlight streaking the wall beside her, clad in a luxurious, silken dressing gown, Johnathan's mother appeared desperate. As he turned around, her eyes fell over Johnathan not with disappointment or anger, but with shame.

She folded her arms differently to her son – where it was a show of confidence for him, for her it was like a concealment of her insecurities. She held herself there for a moment, as deafening silence filled the vacant space in the room.

Seconds ticked by, but they may well have been minutes, before anyone spoke.

"Johnny, I want you to listen to me, now – this is very important."

Johnathan opened his mouth to protest, but Sherwin covered it with a hand and held a finger to his own lips.

"Just listen," he insisted. Johnathan looked at him, pleading intensity swirling in his eyes.

"I may not know how to show it," his mother continued. She perched herself on the very end of the bed, maintaining her distance, "but of course I love you, son. Certainly, I've made mistakes in the past – and, certainly, swearing off children until it was almost too late was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.

"But you, oh, you. Johnny, no, never, you were never a mistake. I don't regret having you; I regret not having you sooner. Nothing could ever make me regret you – you're the only achievement in my life that ever truly mattered."

"But what about giving me the cold shoulder? I've tried speaking to you so many times only for you to turn me away or make fun of my problems."

Johnathan's voice wobbled as he spoke, tightening in places as he swallowed back his tears.

His mother placed a hand on his shoulder. She brought herself close to him, focussing intently.

"Hearing you in any kind of difficulty is heart-breaking. I thought that, maybe, if I made light of the situation that you'd feel better somehow. Clearly, I was wrong, and should have done more to be the support you needed. Have I made it difficult for you to come out to me?"

"It's not that, it's… I knew you wouldn't hate me for who I am, but… Mum, aren't you upset that I won't be able to give you grandchildren?"

"Whatever are you talking about? Your life is yours to make whatever you want of it – within reason, of course. Son, you could have a dozen grandchildren or you could have none and I'd love you all the same. The only thing that matters is your happiness."

She moved her hand onto his back, bravely attempting a hug. There was still some hesitance there, but Sherwin (pretending that he didn't exist) could see the cracks forming in Johnathan's stony resolution.

"If my happiness is what really matters," said Johnathan, placing a hand on his mother's chest and keeping her far enough away to prevent said hug, but not so far as to freeze her out altogether, "then why do you keep insisting that Sherwin and I can't be alone together?"

One corner of her mouth slighted into a smirk. Her eyes shone with wisdom, wrinkles creasing at the corners.

"I was young once, Johnny. The temptation is there – don't deny it, I've seen it twice between you two."

It was nice that she acknowledged Sherwin, but all it did was make him feel more uncomfortable.

"All we've done is kissed and cuddled, Mum." Johnathan inched closer to her now, thawing. "We've talked about that, but we both know we aren't ready. Why can't you trust us?"

His mother's smirk widened.

"Oh, sweetheart, it's easy to forget that you're not the helpless little boy you were just a few short years ago. Perhaps I have been a bit overbearing in that regard lately. It was such a shock to see your heart dancing with another person's – let alone a boy! You always said you would never dare go out with anyone – do you remember? I think you were only eight when you said it, but you used to get mightily annoyed whenever I mentioned her to you."

Even with the back of his head facing him, Sherwin knew Johnathan was blushing.

"Mum," he whined. There was neither anger nor bitter resentment there. Instead, playfulness. "I didn't just decide to go out with Sherwin."

"You didn't?" Sherwin piped up, the words almost a betrayal.

"Well, no – nobody decides who their Heartfelt is, do they?"

Johnathan's mother stood up and turned on the bedroom light.

The window was open, but the night was still. Chilling air sighed in through the two-inch gap, just cold enough to turn Sherwin's breath to mist in front of him.

"No, Johnny," said his mother, still smiling. "The heart chooses what it wants – and rarely does it ever go ignored. Treasure what you and Sherwin have, sweetheart – even I, a Heartless, can see how special it is."

"Mum?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

The following morning, a hearty breakfast of sausages, bacon and eggs awaited Sherwin and Johnathan in the kitchen.

Sherwin had decided he would spite the still-sizzling injury on his cheek; rather than being unproductive and moping about his house today, he was going to face up to the students and staff at school, proud to have his boyfriend, Johnathan, by his side – on their own terms. Whatever ceremony they had planned, it would have to wait until the next Heartfelt couple appeared. For now, Johnathan and Sherwin were their own people, living life for themselves and accepting no judgement from anyone.

That had been Jenny's idea – Johnathan's mother.

"Boys, do what feels right for you," she had said, shortly before bidding them both into bed, each with a kiss on the forehead and a glass of water. "And don't let anybody – even me – stop you."

And that was their agreement – a deal signed by the imprint of a kiss and bound in the warmth of two intimate bodies. To each be their separate selves but live as one.

Sherwin found out earlier that morning that Johnathan had gotten in touch with his mother the night before. It had eased his anxiety when Johnathan told him she was ecstatic upon hearing of their Heartfelt status.

"Goodness gracious me!" she had exclaimed. The news was apparently more important than hearing of her son's injury. "Heartfelt, at thirteen! I hope you boys know what you're doing – being Heartfelt means more than just being together, you know?"

Johnathan had been quick to end the call soon after, because Sherwin had warned him previously that she could speak both herself and other people breathless.

"Are you both ready for another day at school?" said Jenny, pouring a glass of milk out each for the two boys, taking care to not accidentally dip the sleeve of her peach work blouse in the mug of coffee beside her. "I imagine your teachers will be curious to know where you went off to yesterday – and your fellow students might expect answers for leaving the ceremony so abruptly."

The only person Sherwin wasn't particularly keen on seeing today was Ellie. She had known about the ceremony all along – had planned it – had meticulously predicted each of his movements and warped the procedure around him until he had fallen – quite literally – into the right place, at the right time. His lungs still rattled like a pair of maracas whenever he tried breathing deeply, and he had her – and all the other students who chased him – to thank for that.

He wasn't upset with her. He was disappointed. She had led him to believe that she held his best interests at heart – if that truly was the case, she had done a very poor job of showing it.

"What were you thinking about – at breakfast?" said Johnathan, as they changed out of their pyjamas and into the school uniform. Seeing each other in their underwear was, of course, exhilarating; it was knowing that they needn't worry about anyone judging them anymore that made it as natural as all the kissing and cuddling they had done so far. They even shared a quick kiss before pulling their shirts on.

"Ellie," said Sherwin, his voice devoid of emotion. He slipped into his trousers, as Johnathan put his socks on. "It's hard not to feel betrayed when she made such a good display of trying to help me escape. What do I get for trusting? A shiner on my face."

"It's not all that bad, you know? You're still beautiful to me."

Sherwin scoffed.

"Well, you would say that, wouldn't you? You're my Heartfelt."

"And does that make my thoughts any less valid?"

"Not in the slightest bit."

And they kissed again, now fully-clothed.

Ellie was waiting in the main hall when they arrived at school, wringing her hands and chewing her lower lip away.

In spite of Johnathan's suggestion otherwise, Sherwin, at first, had neither the time nor the care to deal with her.

"If we're going to live life for ourselves," Johnathan reasoned, as they took a seat beside each other in Art, "we need to let things like this go."

Sherwin knew Johnathan had a point. It was hard to argue with him, so he started selecting if and when Ellie had permission to approach and speak to him.

One such occasion occurred at the beginning of morning break, when Ellie accosted him as they left their shared Biology lesson.

"If you're not going to talk to me," she pleaded, "then at least listen to what I have to say."

He wanted to spit a deadpan "Go on," at her, but that would have been very petty indeed. Remaining silent was a much better option – at least then she wouldn't be able to tell what his true thoughts were.

He was giving her the time of day only because Johnathan had asked him to.

"The Heartswearing – the ceremony we were going to perform – isn't just a superstition, Sherwin. We weren't doing that for ourselves."

He bit.

"Who was it for, then?"

"You two, obviously!"

Why was she acting as if he and Johnathan had disrespected the other students? From his point of view, Sherwin deemed it exceedingly disrespectful to relentlessly foist the ceremony on the two of them in the first place. He voiced as much as he marched across the courtyard to the lunch hall – where he and Johnathan were due to meet five minutes ago. Ellie jogged to keep up.

She had cut her hair – it hovered just above her shoulders in an upside-down dirty-blonde dome.

"Look," she said definitively, "meet me at the old oak outside after the final bell and I'll show you what I mean." And when she noticed the distrusting glare Sherwin threw at her, she added, "It'll only be me."

Why Sherwin allowed himself to be convinced, he had no idea.

It was quarter-past-four, freezing, and blackened clouds crept over the horizon like some hideous beast waking from aeons of hibernation. There was a calm electricity in the air.

It would be thundering soon.

Johnathan greeted him beneath the ancient branches with a hug and a kiss. Apparently, Ellie had accosted him in much the same manner after lunch. It had been easier to convince him to meet her here, if only because she had told him Sherwin would be here first.

And she wasn't here at all yet.

Sherwin was about to start wondering why, when the front doors of the school flew open and out ran Ellie, draped in a technicolour set of robes that he was sure had been used in a school play once in the past. What on earth was she doing with that mandarin duck?

It was pretty, certainly. Perhaps even interesting if it weren't so out-of-place.

"Mandarin ducks are a symbol of love in Chinese culture," Ellie explained hastily. Now that she was here, she was acting like she wanted to be anywhere but here. That, Sherwin could understand. Even through the thickness of his sweater, the cold was mind-numbing.

Johnathan shuddered beside him.

What was the point of this again?

"If you'd stayed just a few more minutes," Ellie continued, "you'd have understood why the ceremony is so important."

And she brandished the mandarin duck at them. It flapped wildly in her arms, hurling opalescent feathers over the school garden.

"Kiss it, please."

"What?" shouted Johnathan. "No!"

"You guys, the longer we stand out here in the cold, the more likely it is we'll all die of hypothermia. Do either of you want that?"

Unbelievable.

Sherwin scrunched his eyes shut as he and Johnathan leaned towards the mandarin duck's violet breast, his lips puckered.

Ellie erupted into raucous laughter.

"Wow, you two actually fell for that!" she cackled, holding the bird above her head.

Sherwin and Johnathan glared at her.

"All right, all right, sheesh! Okay, the point of this mandarin duck is to oversee the Heartswearing ceremony – even if this one is going to be uncharacteristically short."

"Hold on, Ellie," said Johnathan, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "We didn't agree to taking part in this ceremony."

"You're both standing here, and you both knew why I wanted to meet you two after school."

He closed his mouth.

From a pocket inside her robes, Ellie withdrew a small, velvet box, and handed it to Johnathan.

They stared at her, not maliciously so but with complete and utter confoundment.

"I don't think the contents of that box need any explanation," she said. "I've played my part in blessing you two with the mandarin duck's presence. The rest is up to you."

Sherwin and Johnathan exchanged anxious glances. The box was smooth in Johnathan's hand, almost reassuring. Nothing was reassuring about what lay within its depths.

"Do – Do you want to?" Sherwin offered, stunned that they could even be thinking of this at their age.

"Being Heartfelt means more than just being together, you know?"

Johnathan remembered Sherwin's mother's words, and pondered them.

Could this be what she had been referring to?

"Do you?" Johnathan replied.

The sentiment dangled between them in the form of this inconspicuous box.

The beast in the sky had almost awakened, a decision yearning to be made.

"Boys?" Ellie urged. "It's going to rain very soon and I'd really rather not be dripping wet in the next five minutes."

"I don't understand," said Sherwin. "What's the box for?"

"There are rings inside it," Johnathan said flatly, excitement and terror burning behind his eyes as he gazed at the box.

"That would be correct. The Heartswearing ceremony is important because it solidifies the bond you form when you become Heartfelt. After this, your hearts will merge into one, and you'll not be Heartfelt, but Heartsworn."

Anxious, with the reason being that this sounded like a huge commitment – and therefore probably was – Sherwin said, "So… If we went ahead with this, we'd be married?"

"Oh, heavens, no!" Ellie exclaimed immediately. "But you'll be one step closer. You're making the promise to one another that few ever do and truly mean. The rings in the box symbolise that, and the mandarin duck is considered a vital part of this ceremony. Like I said, they're considered a symbol of love in Chinese culture and their presence is deemed a sort of good luck charm. The ceremony dates back to ancient China – when a priest dressed in multicolour robes would perform a blessing on two people, and they would exchange rings."

"Well, Sher? What do you think? I know it's soon, but as my mum said: we should do what makes us happy. Swearing my heart to you? Nothing could make me happier."

Those words sent shivers down Sherwin's spine, and with them, a confidence unlike anything he had ever felt. Confidence in himself – in his future – all of it embodied in the handsome boy beside him.

"Yes," he said, grinning ear-to-ear. He turned to Ellie. "What do we need to do?"

"Just stand there. I'm about to perform the blessing. Oh, and make sure you're holding hands."

They did so, as Ellie held the mandarin duck above their heads. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply. As she drew three circles above their heads, the mandarin duck started twinkling, a glittering rainbow cascading over their heads and enveloping them in an odd sensation – it permeated them, beginning in their head, and rolled over them in waves. Something in their chest pulled.

"Got it," Ellie said.

She hoisted the duck higher, and Shirley and Joanne appeared, staring about in confusion.

"We're almost done.

"O', Guardians of Love, Life and Spirit, I beseech you: with this mandarin duck as your guide, enter these two young, pure hearts and imbue them with your limitless care and affection. Be the shining force which beckons them home to one another, and allow them to know the love felt by so many others for millennia."

As she reeled off the last of her speech, the wind picked up about Johnathan and Sherwin. It was hot, loving, gentle. It reminded them of the emotions that had flooded through them on the night of their very first kiss.

"Okay, boys, you can kiss now."

And they did.

Light engulfed them. It vanished as soon as it appeared, its effect not as long-lasting as the blush on their cheeks, the tingle on their lips, or the love in their hearts.

Shirley and Joanne were now as one – an amethyst heart, larger than her predecessors. Sherwin and Johnathan smirked at Shoanne, and she smirked back.

"And that's that," Ellie said, clapping her hands. There was a beam of hope in her eyes. "You're now Heartsworn. Congratulations, you two – you really do deserve one another."

She bade them farewell, tucking the mandarin duck under her arm as she dashed into the school building.

Johnathan pried open the ring box – inside it, two simple, gold-plated bands. He took one of them and held Sherwin's left hand.

"I didn't think I'd be putting a ring on your finger this soon," he said, still grinning. He slid the ring onto Sherwin's fourth finger, and then handed him the box. "But crazier things can happen."

"Yeah," Sherwin chuckled. He took Johnathan by his left hand and slid the second ring onto his fourth finger, "like your heart popping out of your chest to chase the boy of your dreams."

Johnathan half-closed his eyes, the grin relaxing into a warm emotion.

"I'm glad it did," he said, and he placed a light kiss to the tip of Sherwin's nose. "I love you, Sherwin."

"I love you, too, Johnathan."

And as they left the school garden, the first flashes of lightning forked overhead.

Neither the battering winds nor icy rain could disturb Sherwin and Johnathan's high spirits tonight. They were dawdling in the midst of a storm, the heavens clapping above and around them as they freely splashed about in ankle-deep puddles. When they weren't skipping down streets close to flooding, they were laughing joyously between themselves, arms linked – Shoanne hurried after them, tumbling over herself in her haste to not be left behind.

The promise rings on our boys' fingers glittered like beacons against the encompassing darkness of another cold, Autumn night.

This wasn't the first, nor would it be the last – it was simply one more step in the journey they were about to share.

It was all a part of what would become just another long walk home.

Fin.