"Who Is He?"

'Who is he?' - Part 28

I sat up and crossed my legs before opening the text message. It read: 'Hello Becky, hope everything's ok at your end. I'll be over in two weeks, it'll be good to see you. Love you'. I sighed and placed it back into my pocket.

"Lucas?" Dave asked, flicking the television back on.

"Yeah, he's maintaining his promise of keeping in touch. It still feels awkward though, I think he's trying to forget about everything that happened before he left," I replied.

"I don't blame him - he wanted you and he didn't get you, of course he's going to try and get things back to how they were before."

Dave spoke a lot of sense when he committed to talking; the downside was I knew he wasn't going to stay in this mood. By tomorrow he'd probably be having a go at me again but at least I knew how he felt deep down. Being complemented by Dave in the way he did, by saying I brought the best out in him, made me feel so good - he was probably the hardest person to impress that I'd ever met and the fact he'd opened up to me and complimented me in the process was almost unbelievable.

"I'll go and make some tea for us," Dave said, stretching and standing up to leave the room. "Come on, get out of my room."

"I'm comfy," I said, keeping my eyes on the television.

"Well you can get comfy somewhere else, get out," he said firmly switching the television off.

"Fine," I laughed slightly, knowing he was trying to sound forceful to get me to leave, but I knew he just didn't want me in his room alone in case I messed anything up - he was incredibly house proud and there wasn't an object out of place or  that didn't coordinate in his room.

He shook his head at me as he held the door open for me to walk out.

"What are we having for tea then?" I asked as we walked towards the kitchen.

"Lasagne."

"Ooh, very nice."

"Don't be too impressed - it's only one of the few dishes I can cook," he said, "It's amazing though." I knew he'd have to follow a slightly negative comment up by one that showed him as the multi skilful man he saw himself as.

There was never a constant or flowing conversation with Dave, he wasn't the kind of person who you could just chat to comfortably about anything or nothing in particular - you had to have something very deliberate and topical. I didn't mind this so much but it was a bit awkward when it was just the two of us eating a meal together. There was one question playing on my mind though, and it was based on what Andy had previously said about how Dave felt towards me. I wanted to know how much I was like John, and his response would put my mind at ease in relation to Andy's remark about him using me to replace John. It seemed an ideal opportunity with Andy not being around. However, I didn't plan on telling him it had been Andy that had suggested it.

"Are you enjoying the lasagne?" Dave asked, breaking the silence first.

"Yeah, it's great thank you," I replied after swallowing my mouthful. He was right, his lasagne was pretty amazing, but what else did I expect?

"I told you so," he said cockily but seriously. I shook my head at him but he didn't see, tucking into his food straight after saying so.

"How much am I like my brother?" I blurted out, not wanting to have to wait for another awkward silence to pass before I said anything. Dave took his time digesting the food in his mouth, clearly thinking about his answer but trying to disguise it.

"There are times when you seem just like him - but you definitely have your differences as well," he said, looking intensely at me, "Why do you ask?"