FSE

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I have this thing where I feel responsible for some of the things I didn't cause.

It's what keeps me awake for more nights than I would ever admit to anyone. What I would also never admit is the fact that most of it isn't even serious. Things like that one time where I probably got in the way of that lady getting to her appointment in time. She probably forgot about me, but she comes up on too many late nights. I know it's stupid, and I know that I should let this go, but if you could reason with your emotions, then a lot of things could've been different. But it's not, so these things keep me up at night.

I guess this is why I made it my mission to take care of Eric until he gets better. That is something people should do, yes, but he never told me where he lived. Turns out, he's forty-five minutes away from where I live, and considering I came from the strip club, it took me an hour to get here, along with a few detours to buy what I needed to, so when I got to Eric's door, I was almost sure Eric would have to take care of me. It was worth it, though. Me walking around his house and getting to know how he lives is pretty nice. After spending so much time in an apartment alone where the only other voice is from the TV, this is a much-needed palette cleanser, and I imagine this must be this for him, too.

The sun is on my face when I get up. I'm confused at first because my bed is beside the window so the light would never shine in my eyes. It's when I get up wearing a shirt and the strange feeling of the bed I'm lying on that I remember that I slept in Eric's place. I didn't wake up somewhere during the night, so I guess Eric didn't need me for anything. Hopefully, that is the case.

The sofa bed is surprisingly as comfortable as my bed, and I'm tempted to sleep some more. I get up, though, because I have someone to take care of, and I willingly chose to do this. I turn on my phone to check the time. Around seven o'clock is when I usually wake up, but I guess I'm earlier today. Stretching, I place my phone on the coffee table and go over to Eric's room. That's when my ears perk up to the sound of something sizzling in the kitchen. I go over to the kitchen to find a certain husky cooking, swaying his hips and humming to himself. He looks much better now, at least.

I take my time walking to the kitchen, and I make sure I stride into the kitchen with my hands on my hips. Then I wait, and I clear my throat. "What are you doing?"

Eric's ears perk up and he turns around. He gives me the most innocent smile in the world as if that would make me forgive him for this. The guy even uses the spatula to wave at me. "Good morning to you too," he says. "I'm cooking us breakfast."

"Wow. It's just like I didn't smell the vomit coming from the bathroom and your muzzle last night."

"A testament to your skill, I'm sure."

I go over to him, shaking my head. "No. No, you are still sick. Go back to your room."

"Since when did you become the man of my own house?"

"As long as you were just sick in less than twenty-four hours, I am the man of the house." I slap him on the back and nudge him. "Now go back to your room before I make you."

Eric relents and goes back to his room, laughing the whole way. I shake my head and turn back to whatever he was cooking. I lift the pan, take one good look at it, then put the pan down.

"What are you cooking?" I call out to him.

"Pancakes," Eric calls back.

"This is pancakes?"

"I'm still sick, remember?" There's a pause, and then: "I was never good at cooking pancakes."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll let you off the hook. I just need to know what I'm working with here."

"Those are pancakes."

"Got it."

I turn back to the pan and continue what Eric's been doing. I rush to grab a plate and place Eric's pancake into the plate, then I add another, smaller chunk of butter to the pan. On the counter beside the stove is a bowl of pancake batter. It tells me a lot about Eric's sleep schedule and what time he woke up to make this. I take a small bite from the pancake batter and that tells me what his cooking skills are like. But as he said, he's sick right now, so I shouldn't judge so soon.

I have a few hours before this isn't considered breakfast anymore, so I do my magic on the pancake batter. It doesn't take long before I get it to how I wanted it and start cooking. After that, I place the pancakes on a plate along with butter and some maple syrup I found in his kitchen. I'm about to bring it to Eric's room when the door opens and he comes out of it, towel in hand, and heads to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"I still smell," Eric says. "I think this is long warranted."

"Remember, you just got sick, so--"

"Don't actually take a bath, I know." Eric smiles. "Since when did you become my mom?"

"So am I the man of the house or am I your mom?" I shake my head. "Take a bath because you really stink."

"Don't you like my smell?"

"Just go."

Eric doesn't say anything after that. He just bows and goes to the bathroom with a swing in his step. His hips too. As he does that, I just watch him walk into the bathroom, bewildered. Eric's oddly cheerful today. I should be happy for him, and I am, but from him looking super tired and sad last night to him acting like a complete goofball, I'm halfway convinced that his fever got worse and this is one of the signs.

I bring the pancakes to his room and place them where I placed his food and his medicine. It's starting to get cluttered there so I took the empty bowls and bring them to the kitchen before coming back. I sit on the same chair I did last night and take the time to take in my surroundings. Eric lives in a decently-sized apartment. It's not big, but it is larger than some of my friends' places. I can walk around the apartment without shrinking into myself so things won't fall off. Guess all those books and stripping paid off.

And I guess Eric really must've had a lot of money to spare considering the design of his apartment. I don't know if this is what it looked like when Eric bought it or if he was allowed to put his own spin on it, but it was clear there were some changes to his apartment. Some of the walls are blocky gray walls that look rather unfinished and there was this gray tint to the apartment as a whole. When I look at it, I feel like it was left as is the moment people finished construction. Doesn't mean it doesn't have its charm. It looks pretty cozy, with the plants and the shelf of books, and the comfortable furniture. All in all, it gives me the feeling of a nice, homely, Brutalist-influenced apartment.

And it's the ugliest thing I've ever seen.

Eric comes back a minute later, wearing a tank top and blue shorts. I remember him wearing something like that when I came across him jogging. Everything really does look good on him, no wonder he does what he does.

"Hey," I say. "How are you feeling right now?"

"Cleaner." Eric walks over to his bed and lies down again. "And I don't feel like my body is killing me."

"Good. That's good. By the way, I put some pancakes over there, in case you want some."

He turns to the drawer beside him and he takes the pancakes. "Oh, thanks. You should eat too."

"Why, thank you. I was waiting for you to invite me." I get up and grab myself a plate and some pancakes before coming back to his room. Eric is already digging in and I feel proud of myself just seeing him eat it like that. I do my best to stop my tail from wagging.

"It's been a while since I had breakfast in bed," Eric says. "It's just not the same when you cook and eat it all in your bed."

"Well, it's technically breakfast in bed, so stop being so picky." Eric gives me a look when I say that and I shrug it off. "Come on, you know I'm right."

"You don't have to nitpick, you know that, right?"

"I will nitpick whenever I want to."

"I feel like that shrinks on the amount of books or movies that you want."

"Sure, but it leaves me with the good ones, so it's worth it." I take a bite from my pancake. "That's why I read your books in the first place."

Eric laughs. "Sorry, but we are not having sex when I get better."

"Who says I'm trying to?"

"How we met in the first place. You complimented me on the most innocent of things. It was when I agreed that you became more apparent with what you wanted."

"Well, it worked, didn't it? We did it and we're here right now."

Eric gives me a look. "This is not helping your case."

I sigh. "I am not planning to have sex with you. Happy now?"

Eric smiles at that. "Yes. That does make me very happy."

Eric finishes his plate of pancakes and I realize I haven't eaten mine at all. I rush to finish mine but I try not to let it show. As I do, my eyes lazily fixate on Eric. He isn't looking at me right now, and I trace his eyes to look somewhere in his room. I know that look anywhere, and I've been a little guilty of that, too. I just wonder what he's thinking about.

"So," I say, placing the plate on one of the nearby tables. "What's with your apartment?"

Eric gives me a look. "What about it?"

"Why is it..." I make weird, waving hand gestures with my hand before settling on the word. "Gray and lifeless and very sad?"

"What's so bad about it? I like it."

"Hate to tell you this, but it's ugly."

"You wouldn't be the first one to say it," Eric says. "But it's my apartment, yeah? Don't you think what I say, goes here?"

"This is just constructive criticism here. I don't know about you, but personally? I don't wanna live in a house that looks like an ongoing construction site."

Eric laughs. "Man, if I only had a dollar for every time I'd say that. I could build a whole house like this, in the middle of nowhere with the land I bought for myself."

"Is that what you've always wanted?"

"Yeah, but I got a little too optimistic, so I had to make do with what I had to." Eric turns to the window, with the city in full view. "A part of me is glad I did because it turns out I love the city."

I smile. "Glad things are working out for you."

"Why? What about your dream house?"

"Well, it's nothing too grand," I say. "I just want to live in a cabin in the woods, near a small town in the mountains. Just cold mountain air and small-town stuff."

"And how far along are you?"

I scratch the back of my neck. "We don't talk about that."

Eric laughs again, louder this time. "You'll get there, don't worry."

"Yeah, I hope so."

I get up and take the plates and tell Eric that I'm gonna go wash the dishes. As I go out, Eric calls out to me.

"Hey, I'll be sleeping. I kept waking up in the middle of the night and I don't feel great right now."

"Sure," I say.

"And as I said, if you get bored, the TV's there and I have books you might want to read."

"It never left my mind, Eric."

I put the plates in the dishwasher and clean the rest of the kitchen. It's then I realize that I haven't showered yet, so I do just that. I take my time to enjoy Eric's bathroom and showers because it's pretty nice and warm. After that, I get out of the bathroom, place my clothes in my bags and sit on the sofa bed. I get immediately bored after that. I cleaned the house last night, so I have nothing to do. I thought I might have more to do now that I'm not alone in a house with someone, but it turns out, some things never change.

I eventually get tired of it and I pick up the remote. None of the channels interest me at this time of day so I put it down and stand up. I find myself walking over to the shelves beside the TV and taking a look at the shelves. It's a mix of Eric's books and books from other people. He has five copies of his books which are places separated from each other. In the space between Eric's books are other fiction books. They ranged from horror to fantasy to romance. Just looking at the titles is very much indicative of Eric's tastes. Half of them fit my tastes, too, so I shouldn't judge. I take a look at what I wanted, then I thought to look at Eric's latest book. It's been a while since it was published, but I haven't read it yet. I know I could ask Eric, but that's not the way to support local artists. But now I can't help it anymore so I pick it up.

I pull the book off the shelf and open it. I'm about to look away when I notice something in the empty space from where I got the book. I reach for it as slowly and carefully as I could so I wouldn't disturb the rest of the things on the shelf, and when I grab it, I pull it out. It's a photo of Eric, with a smile that exposes his teeth like a snarl. He does the hand horn thing on one hand while the other is wrapped around me.

It takes me a second to realize that the fox has blue eyes, and I let out a laugh when I realize that. Eric really wasn't lying when he said that I look a lot like his ex. After another look, it's a little easier to tell the difference in the photo, because the fox was in all black, in a shirt with ripped sleeves complete with studded bracelets. The fox is also doing the hand horn thing and the snarl-smile, but with his tongue hanging out. The only thing I can see in the background are people who dressed similarly to the fox. The ironic campiness of the photo is enough to tell me that they were having the time of their lives, and it makes me smile.

Then I remember that they broke up a long time ago and I put it back where I put it.

I spent the rest of the morning reading Eric's new book. I spend an hour or two reading it until I think I have enough. I stretch, get up, and put the book back on the shelf. That's when I hear the door close shut from behind me. I turn around and Eric has just walked out the door. There's a very cautious way in how he walks, like his walls are paper thin and he doesn't want to wake people up. He doesn't see me, so I clear my throat.

"What do you think you're doing?" I ask.

I almost laugh at how his hackles raise and his posture stiffens at that. Eric slowly turns to face me, a sheepish smile on his face, and he waves. "Hey," he says. "I'm going to the bathroom."

"You don't have to sneak, you know? This is your house."

Now Eric looks like he's a little kid being scolded. "I... I know."

"Well, are you feeling better, at least?"

"I can walk around now without feeling dizzy, so I guess that amounts to something."

I laugh. "All right. You can do whatever you want now."

Eric looks at me incredulously, though the smile never leaves his face. "You really made yourself the man of the house."

"Like I said, it hasn't been twenty-four hours since you got better, and I could argue that you're not better yet so that timer hasn't started."

"Oh, when will I ever get my house back?" Eric says, plopping himself on the couch.

"Don't worry, I'll eventually relinquish my power to you, Eric Firsch." I walk over to him. "Eventually."

I get on the couch beside him and place my hand on his forehead, pushing the fur away and pressing my hand against it. He's not as warm as he was last night. "Yeah, you seem to be getting better. I'm gonna stay here for a little while longer, though. Just in case you ever get sick enough."

"That's good," Eric says. "I could use some company."

"Me too. Oh, look! We have something in common that isn't something terrible."

He chuckles. "Yeah."

We spend the rest of the day doing nothing at all, and it's pretty fun. Aside from me making lunch and checking in on Eric now and then, we just sit around and talk about stuff. It's a good thing Eric's fever just so happened to occur the night before my day off. I haven't made any plans with anyone else before that, so the stars aligned in our favor today.

When the sun set, I get up and start cooking. Despite Eric insisting, I cook our dinner. He's pretty insistent on it, and I find it kinda weird why. Eric says something along the lines of, "You've done a lot of stuff for me. Why don't we just order something." So I say, "What stuff? We just talked." That doesn't sway him, though, so I use my position of man of the house, and that gets him to stop. Then I get back to my cooking.

As I finish cooking, I put it all on the biggest plate I could find in Eric's cupboards. I'm about to bring them all on the table when Eric tells me to place them on the counter instead. I ask him why and he tells me that it's just the two of us. I won't argue with that and do what he says this time.

"Is this what you do with your first dates?" I ask.

"I don't do first dates at my house or their houses," Eric says. "But other than that, yes. I do this with everyone I bring here. Well, if we can fit in the counter, that is. It became a habit because most of the time, the table is often filled with whatever we decided to do for today."

Eric sits on the counter and I do the same. "You get busy a lot," I say.

"I wouldn't say we're busy. More like we did whatever we felt like doing that day. I am a messy person, as you've seen by looking at my room."

"Don't worry, I'm a pretty messy person too. I just learn to clean up when someone else is in my house."

"It wasn't that clean the first time I went to your house."

I point at him with my fork. "Hookups don't count."

"Excuses, excuses."

We start eating. At one point, Eric points beside me to prove something, and I turn to look. Beside the counter is a large window with the city in sight. I want to tell him that I live in the city, too, when he then points me to a place that he probably can't see from where he is, right now. I can see the bridge from here, and it's at an angle I've never seen before. It looks pretty, and I haven't seen it like that before. I think I found a reason why Eric sits by the counter whenever he only has one friend over.

"By the way," Eric says. "You have been entertaining yourself, right?"

I chuckle. "Of course. What? You think I'd just be staring at the ceiling the whole time?"

"You did say it was one of your hobbies. That, and I had a friend who did it once."

I open my mouth, close it, then shake my head. "I'm not gonna ask about that."

"It's good that you don't." Eric laughs, taking a bite. "What did you do, by the way?"

"Nothing much. Housekeeping took a hot minute so all I did was read."

"Oh yeah? What did you read?"

"One of yours. The new one. The one I told myself I should get around to reading but never did. It was great. I loved reading it."

Eric smiles. "Good to know. Be sure to buy the book because I need the royalties."

"Sure."

I'm about to say something when I remembered the picture. All of a sudden, I feel bad for bringing it up, then talking to Eric about how I read the book it was hiding behind. It's not something I should've seen, yet I did. I even picked it up and looked at it.

"Hey, Eric..."

"You saw the picture, didn't you?"

That shut me up. I look away, at the bridge in the distance. "Yeah... I did."

"Don't worry about it. It's not your fault," Eric says. "I should've moved the picture a long time ago, so it's on me. I'm not mad at you."

I nod. "Okay."

We sit there on the counter, eating in silence. Now I feel like there's this big cloud over everything. Eric isn't as lively as he was earlier, and he has his gaze fixated on the food as he eats it. I might have overstepped a boundary here, but there's nothing I can do about it that is not causing a scene so I just keep eating, hoping that this passes by quickly enough.

"If you want to ask about it, go ahead," Eric says.

That caught me off-guard. "I... I can."

Eric smiles at me. It's a warmer smile that reassures me. "Yeah," he says. "I bet seeing someone who looks like you must've been an experience."

"Well, for one, I want to know his family in the small case that they might be related to mine."

"That would be scary, yes."

"I have many relatives with blue eyes, too, so there is a much higher chance of us being related than you might've thought."

Eric laughs. "Now that is much more terrifying."

I play with my food a little bit, thinking of what to ask him. My mind keeps going back to the picture I saw, with Eric and his arm wrapped around that fox who looks very much like me. I never took Eric to be the type to go moshing in hardcore punk concerts, but I've been wrong before. Besides, he seems to be having the time of his life in that photo. And the fox too.

"What's his name, by the way?" I ask. "Your ex."

"Oh yeah. I never told you that." Eric takes a bite from his food. "His name's Gavin Childers. People call him Gavin, and I used to call him Gav. He's a mixologist, and people know him as the guy who made the best drinks ever. He's also a massive fan of anything punk, as you probably have seen in the picture."

"Sounds like a great guy," I say.

"Yeah, he is."

The wistful way Eric says that is nice to look at, then I remember that he's talking about his ex whom he hasn't moved on from yet. That dampens the mood a bit. That also made me regret being playfully flirty with him for the entirety of the time I've been with him. I do look like Gavin, that picture confirms it, and me being like that for Eric probably wouldn't help. Still, it's pretty nice seeing Eric smile like that.

"Did you guys do that a lot?" I ask. "Going to concerts?"

Eric thinks about it for a bit. "Not really. That was a special date. It was our anniversary, and there was a concert nearby. Gavin loved that band, so I thought why not buy him tickets and go with him, too? The concert was rather campy and he wanted to get into the action. Because I was coming along with him, he made me dress up just like him."

"Looked good on you, though," I say. "How was the concert, by the way?"

"Oh, it was great. I was by the side because everyone was moshing in the middle, but Gavin was having the time of his life. He was really in his element at that time, thrashing in the middle and everything. At one point, he dragged me in the middle and made me mosh with him. I'm glad he did because I had a great time. That picture was when in between songs and Gavin asked someone to take a picture of us, and we went full camp." Eric chuckles to himself. "If you knew him before and saw him in that concert, you'd be very surprised."

"Sounded like a fun time."

"He had a great time, so I had a great time, too. That's what matters for me."

Eric looks out the window and I look out at the same time. I can't help but wonder what Eric's thinking about. I look away out of respect.

"You know, I can't believe that it took me this long to know more about your ex," I say.

"People don't really talk about their exes," Eric says.

"Yeah, but we're a special case. It's one of the first things we talked about back when you saw me as the guy who looks like your ex and I know you as the gay stripper husky that might be the solution to all my problems. You'd think I would know more about him sooner, but hey, better late than never."

Eric nods. "You have a point."

"I do," I say. "It's one of my strong suits."

That gets a smile out of Eric, at least. It's a sad smile, but a smile either way. But it's clear that Gavin is still on his mind so I continue with that.

"What was it like when Gavin left you?" I ask. "And, if you're fine with it, how did it happen?"

"It's fine," Eric says, then he sighs. "It was rather difficult. I mean, it hurt a lot, especially because we lived together and it took me a while to discover what happened. We had a lot of fights lately, and that night, it might've been the worst. Whenever it happened, Gav would sleep on the couch. So when he slept on the bed that night, I thought that the fight was almost over. So I hugged him and asked if we could talk about it in the morning. He said yes."

Eric looks out into the city again. This time, a gentle rain pats again the window. "So the next day, he wasn't there. It was fine, I thought. He'd be back in half an hour. He always jogged early in the morning with or without me, so I prepared some breakfast and waited for him. But half an hour passed, and I hadn't seen him yet. That was when I started looking, and that was when I noticed his things were gone. His clothes, his laptop, everything. But he left the things I bought for him. So I panicked and grabbed my phone to call him. That was when I saw the text he had for me. 'I can't do it anymore. I'm sorry.'"

The husky falters ever-so-slightly, and I resist the urge to speak up and say something. It doesn't take long before he continues. "That didn't stop me from doing it, though. I called him, texted him, messaged him, and anywhere I could find. Like I told you back then, it was like we never even met. It was the same case for my close friends, too. He never told them where they went. Gavin's close friends slowly left soon afterward, too, but those who stayed refused to say anything."

"Did you try convincing them to tell you?" I ask.

"I considered it, but at the end of the day, it wasn't fair to them, or to Gavin. He didn't want me in his life anymore, and I respected that. It hurt, and I still loved him, but what could I do? He was gone, and it was over. I had no other choice but to put to suck it up and move on."

"Ah," I say. "I'm sorry to hear that. But at least you moved on, right?"

There's a silence that lasted a second too long before Eric nods. "Yeah."

"That's good."

The awkward silence that follows afterward probably would've been avoided if I stopped prodding at Eric's past. Same goes for the look on his face, too. My gaze falls on my plate and I take another serving to distract myself. "I'm sorry for bringing him up," I say.

"Like I said, it's fine," Eric says. "You saw the picture, you asked, and I told you. I wouldn't have told you if it wasn't fine, yeah?"

"I guess you're right."

"I am right. Besides, I'm glad you brought it up. I haven't told this to anyone who's close to Gavin or is in our shared friend group. Sharing this with someone who wasn't involved in it turned out to be really good for me. So... thanks for asking, Danny."

"I'm glad that I helped," I say.

Eric has that smile on his face again, but there was still a dark cloud all over it. But even if he looked like that, he was being genuine when he said that talking about it made him feel better.

"It really made you feel better, huh?"

"It did. It really did."

My gaze looks longingly at the window and the bridge. That bridge leads to the highway out of the city and I've rarely ever used that for a couple of years. I can't keep my gaze away. "Well, I want to try that out."

Eric immediately recognizes what I mean and nods. "Ah, all right then."

I take a deep breath and start. "Remember what I said last night, about having a lot of regrets, and the guy who had tuberculosis because of me? He was the guy I grew up having feelings for."

"The childhood friend who you kissed when you were drunk?"

"Yeah, except that wasn't the full story." I clear my throat to get rid of the awkward feeling in my chest. "So, his name is Jacob Santana. He's a hyena, and he plays guitar. Massive Trivium fan and my friend since childhood. Was. He's the reason I went up to you."

"Yes, I've gathered," Eric says.

"He just might be the best person you could ever have. If you were a weird introvert like me, at least. He was outgoing, friendly, and just energetic enough to get you to be energetic as well without being too much for you to handle. I've had a lot of friends throughout my childhood, and they all come and go, but he was the one who stayed."

I sigh. "You know the story. I had feelings for him. I confessed to him and kissed him in college and he disappeared, too. The whole time, I just wondered why he left, and why he left just like that. It never stopped bothering me, even when I thought I moved on from it.

"Then you came along, and that one-night stand. I'm gonna be honest, I was so sure that I got whatever it was I wanted back then. I don't know why, but having you in my bed, with my head on your chest and you hugging me back, I was so sure that I was happy. Then I woke up and you were gone. It was like Jacob disappeared all over again, and I couldn't help it but come back to you, to get rid of whatever this feeling was in my chest."

Just thinking of what was going through my head at the time makes me want to punch myself. I hate how I proved Jacob right back then, and I still do now. I could still hear Jacob's voice in my head, and what he said the last time we saw each other. Closing my eyes, I shake my head to get rid of it before continuing.

"So, after the talk we had at the car, I decided it was time to talk to Jacob again, no matter how much it takes. One thing led to another and I found where he lived, so I went over to visit him where he lives now. He was there and we talked."

I pause, and I must've taken too long because Eric speaks up. "How'd it go?"

"Well..." I trail off. I look at Eric, who was looking back at me. The way he looks at me tells me everything about what he thinks of me. The last time we talked, Jacob looked at me like that, by the junkyard where he seems like he was reverting to the Jacob that brought me out of my shell. And that was all before I told him why I was there in the first place. I wonder how what it'd take before Eric looks at me the way Jacob did right before he left me. And how long. I sure hope it never comes to that, but I can never be too sure.

"It turns out he left because I was pushing him too far," I say. "He never got the courage to say it because I was too much of a wreck for him to say no. He just had enough and left. And to be honest, I don't blame him. I was a wreck, and I clung to him too much. It hurt, but it wasn't about me, it was about him. It was his choice, so I respected that."

Eric takes it all in and nods slowly. "I see. And did you patch things up?"

I resist the urge to laugh. My mind goes back to how I watched Jacob walk away from me, or how cold the door was before I left. I wonder what it would've been like if we did. Maybe I would've been all right and he would've been happier. But Jacob isn't the one I'm talking to right now. I'm talking to Eric, and he didn't have to know about Jacob or feel sorry for me. For his sake and Jacob's.

"Yeah," I say, smiling. "But he'd rather cut contact with old friends. He'd want to start anew, or whatever it is he said."

"That's good to know," Eric says. "I'm glad you resolved your things with him. And I'm glad that you got to talk to him again, at least."

I chuckle at that. "Yeah."

The rain gets a little more intense now, and it creates a hum that fills the silence. Now that we're not talking, I notice how deafeningly quiet it is here. It's just the rain and the sound of utensils on plates. The silence is all too familiar. It reminds me too much of what I do in my own apartment. As much as the whole thing depresses me, it's also comforting, because I know I'm not the only one. We seem to have a lot in common, lately.

"God, why does our past keep coming up in our conversations?" I say, chuckling.

"I've been thinking about that, too," Eric says. "You think we could afford to talk about something else?"

"Of course," I said. "Well..."

It takes me too long and Eric takes that for an answer, and he laughs. "Take your time."

Take my time I did and we're now talking about a lot of things and we got into more tangents. I get some laughs out of Eric, those loud laughs I've never heard from him before, and I consider that a small achievement. The fact that he doesn't look like he's a fragile thing that will vomit if shaken is also a sign of a job well done. After we eat dinner, I volunteer to clean up and he lets me, giving me instructions on how to use the dishwasher. As he goes to the living room, I think back to what we were doing a few minutes ago, and just how lively we were back then. I look at Eric in the living room right now, I realize that this is pretty nice. I could get used to this.

After I clean the counter and place all the plates and utensils in their respective cabinets, I head for the living room. Eric's on a table by the window, glasses on, and working on his laptop. He tells me he writes around this time of night, but he's not going to kick me out of the room or anything. I don't feel like doing anything particular after that so I turn on the TV and watch whatever is on that night. Eric still does strike up a conversation with me from time to time, but it's short since he goes back to whatever he's working on soon afterward. At first, I let him do the talking first, but after who knows how long, with me practically lying on the sofa bed, I get bored enough to do it myself.

"So," I say. "Is this your routine?"

It takes a few seconds before Eric responds. "Yeah. This is what I do every day."

"Do you ever get bored? Or wish something different happens?"

"Sometimes, but I grew to love what happens every day before this even formed into a habit."

"Yeah, that's a good thing at least."

"But like I said, I do wish something new happens from time to time, during times when I don't feel like writing or if I just want something new."

"Understandable." I get up and turn to him. "What are some of the things from this routine of yours that you love doing?"

"Well..." Eric looks around, then to the window. Then he gets up, gesturing with me to come with him. "Come on, I want to show you something."

Gingerly, I get up and follow Eric. He then goes outside the apartment and I resist the urge not to tell him to go outside. I follow him outside and follow him as he goes to the elevator. His tail is wagging ever-so-slightly and there's a spring in his step as he does. We get to the elevator and Eric presses the button to the rooftop.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"I did say I want to show you something," Eric says.

"Yeah, I know. But I was expecting something in your apartment, because, you know, you are sick and all."

"Well, it is a good thing that you're good at taking care of people, yeah?" He bumped my shoulder with his.

I roll my eyes. "Just show me the damn thing."

After a minute or so, we reach the rooftop. We're in a lounge, with tables and chairs and a bar on the side. It's closed right now, so there are no lights in the room. There is a soft yellow glow from outside, though, but I can't tell what it is because curtains covered all the windows.

"This is nice," I say.

Eric laughs. "That's not the surprise. Come on."

He takes my hand and brings me to the door. As he grabs the doorknob, he looks at me and smiles before opening the door and bringing me outside.

The rooftop of the apartment is something else entirely. The rooftop is filled with chairs and tables, and in between them, as well as the railings and the surroundings are filled with plants. Halogen lights hang above us and light up the place. And beyond that is the city, the glowing buildings near us, and the skyscrapers in the distance. And by the horizon is the sea and the bridge.

"Wow," I say. "This is amazing."

"It is," Eric says. "It really is."

I walk around, taking everything. I make steps to the balcony, making a slow spin before getting there. "What do you guys do here?" I ask. "And how'd you get us up here?"

"Well, people who aren't staff or who work here aren't allowed to be here, but the door was always open so that didn't stop the rest of us." Eric laughs softly to himself. "This is a restaurant. People go here when they want to eat, but didn't want to leave. Or people from outside who wanted something new to eat."

"I can imagine." I look out at the city. "Eating here must be a dream."

"They would've been out of business if it wasn't. Getting here isn't easy, especially if you don't live here."

"You have a point." I turn around and rest my back against the balcony, so I was facing Eric. "You didn't answer my question, by the way. About what you do here. Unless you eat here too even if it's closed."

"I'm not interested in crime just yet, don't worry." Eric goes over beside me and rests his back against the wall, too. "And to answer your question, I come here to clear my head."

"Ah." I look at the light bulbs. There's a soft breeze so they slowly dangle like wind chimes. "From what?"

"A lot of things," Eric says, crossing his arms. "Too many things. I mean, sometimes I don't have to, because my apartment is my comfort zone. But sometimes, it can get too much, and I needed somewhere open to let my mind wander."

I think about my own apartment. It's only slightly smaller than Eric's, and it gets the work done just the same. I think about how it has everything about me, and how it's the only place I have. Eric has this place, among other things. "How many times have you been here?"

"I don't keep track, but if I were to guess, I'd say about... enough times."

I nod. "That's good for you, Eric."

"Thank you." Eric looks behind him, then at me. There's a gentle, understanding smile on his face that puts me at ease. "This could be your place to think, too."

That takes me by surprise. "You'd really let me do it?"

"I mean, it's not mine." Eric pats the railing for effect, I think. "But if you want to go up here to think, then I never saw you."

"You'd think I go all the way here to think about stuff?"

Eric shrugs. "Well, it was worth a try."

I inch closer, then I rest my side against his, so our arms are pressed against each other. "Well, I accept the offer."

"Good. I could use the company."

"Come on, there's no way that's all I am to you."

"Of course not." Eric chuckles. "You're so much more than that."

"I'll take the compliment."

We stay like that for a little longer. Eventually, I feel Eric ever-so-slightly leans against me too.

After fifteen minutes of nothing and random talk and more nothing, we decide to go back. As we get to the apartment, though, I place my hand on his head. Eric surprisingly lets me do it. I brush away some of the furs on his head so my paw pads touch his forehead. We stay like that for a moment before I pull back. "All right. You're better now."

"I guess your time here is done?"

"Don't sound so sad. I'll be back."

Eric giggles. "Yay."

"Keep that up and I just might not come back."

"Might not. Might not is a keyword I'll take."

"Won't. I won't come back."

He chuckles. "All right, then. I'll drop the act."

"Good." I then walk around and grab my bag. Then I go around the living room to look for some other of my belongings. "But seriously, I need to go. I have some important things to do tomorrow, and I have all my stuff in my house."

"Go on ahead. Thanks for coming here and taking care of me, Danny."

I look at him and smile. "No problem."

I finally finish getting all of my stuff in my bag and head out to the door. I open the door of his apartment and walk out the door.

"Danny?"

I stop and look back. "Yeah?"

"Do come back."

I look at him and smile. "Of course." Then I close the door.