Remembrance ~ Part One
"Alex."
Those orange eyes turned away from the road. "What?"
"What happened to us?"
They turned back. The driver kept his paws on the wheel. "Things change."
"You can't just leave me like this."
He looked back and stared right into the eyes of the wolf beside him. Those eyes used to bring so much comfort. "I already did."
That wolf flattened his ears against his head and crossed his arms. "But - why? What did I do to deserve this?"
"You cheated on me." Alex wiped at his eyes and sniffled, slowing to a stop at a red light. "Twice. With two different people. In one week."
"You've cheated on me before."
"We weren't dating then, Malak. We were just friends. Just silly, naïve friends who thought they had a chance at love. And, besides - I learned my lesson, even from that. I don't think I'd be able to handle coming home one more time to find you on the couch with your paw in someone else's pants."
"Alex, I said - I'm sorry. I messed up."
"You sure as hell messed up." He swung the wheel to the left and pulled into a residential neighborhood. "I've given you too many chances, Malak. I should've seen what I was getting into when you took me to bed the night before our first date. I must be a fool, because only a fool could love a whore."
Malak was silent for a moment. "What did you call me?"
"You heard me."
"Why can't you just forgive me?"
"It's more than just that, Malak." Alex pulled to a stop in front of a house; this was where the wolf lived. "It's so much more than just you cheating on me."
"Is it also your inability to get over a few simple mistakes? Hm? I know I'm not perfect. Alex. I know that all too well. You know what, though?" The wolf leaned in. "You're not perfect either. So stop acting like you're better than me."
"Get out of my car."
"Give me back my necklace."
Alex tore the silver chain off his neck; then, he rolled down the window and threw the necklace out onto the sidewalk. It landed with a metallic clatter. "It broke a week ago, when this all started. I've been keeping it on with a paper clip."
Malak placed his paw on the door handle of the car. "You said you loved me." He looked into those orange eyes; Alex looked away. The sky above was grey with a coming storm. "You said you loved me, and I believed you. You promised we'd be together forever, no matter what, and I believed you - and you're breaking up with me because of this?"
"Impure love is about the same as impure water: it's hard to live with and it poisons you. Besides, I said, it's more than that."
"Then what is it?"
Alex wiped at his eyes again and sighed. "You can come get your things from my place in two days. I'm leaving tomorrow, and the house will be empty."
The wolf opened the door. "If you want love, you can find it in Hell."
Alex pushed him out and slammed the door behind him. "I'll see you there."
~ ~ ~
Maybe Alex was right. Malak often thought that to himself nowadays, as he sat alone in an empty diner at 4:37 in the morning. Maybe, just maybe, they would meet again sometime, and be friends again.
That sometime wasn't going to be anytime soon, though. The day after that conversation, Malak had seen on the news that Alex's plane had crashed in the Pacific.
There were no survivors.
That last conversation they had haunted the wolf. If only he had chosen his words a little more carefully; if only he hadn't lost his temper; if only he had learned his lesson. But, oh, he certainly had learned that lesson by now, though: that conversation happened two, almost three years ago, and he hadn't loved anybody since. He felt like he didn't deserve to love anyone, because he'd just mess it up like every other relationship he had ever had. Alex was right, all those things he had said; turns out, he was always right.
Malak was once happy. Now, though, such a thing, such an idea as that seemed the most remote thing in the universe. Once, he had money; he lived in a two-story house with a pool; he only had to work two days a week; and he laughed and smiled every day. Now, he had to borrow money from his brother to get by; his house was taken from him, and now he lived in a run-down apartment; he worked as the clerk at a convenience store five, sometimes six days a week; he had insomnia and anorexia and was depressed, only smiling in what few conversations he had with other people simply because it was polite to do so.
Here he was, just another unimportant nobody who had been down on his luck for the past few years, taking quiet sips of his cup of water because he couldn't afford a coffee. His black fur had lost its shine, his sapphire eyes had turned to a foggy blue-grey, and the slash along his arm where Alex had cut him finally scarred over. The same couldn't be said about his left ear, though, where there was now a ragged notch near the base. He sighed again and looked out the window beside him at the dark grey pre-dawn sky; his father died last year. That didn't bother him much - he just assumed his tear ducts had failed due to overuse and overexertion.
The cute waitress who brought him his water each morning slipped into the seat across from him: he looked up at her and then back down into his cup. She was a dog, a mutt of some sort, with brown-dominated fur and brown eyes - he was sure she had told him what she had in her once or twice, but he couldn't be bothered to care. "What's up?"
"I managed to get out of bed this morning." Malak sighed again. "Cross that off the bucket list."
"That's one thing more than yesterday. Good job." This waitress, Juliet, stifled a yawn and sniffed. "God, I think I'm coming down with a cold. Crap."
Malak watched a car pass by outside. He and Juliet talked each morning - well, she really did most, if not all, of the talking - and had become something like friends. When he did speak, the wolf told her things he wouldn't be comfortable with telling anyone else, if there was anyone to listen. Sometimes he thought the only reason she had approached him in the first place was because she had a physical need to spout words from her mouth. "Mm."
Juliet reached forward and took a sip of his water. He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. "You know, I don't really understand you. How can you stand being sad all the time?"
"I'm not sad." Another car passed by. "I'm just never happy."
"Well, why aren't you ever happy?"
"There's nothing to be happy about."
"Okay, you and me both know that's bullshit."
"I don't feel like putting in the effort to be happy."
Juliet watched him for a moment. "Fair enough," she then said, bringing a claw to her mouth and chewing on it. "So, tell me. What's going on in your life?"
He looked up. "What?"
"I mean, like... how are you doing? How was yesterday? Talked to your mom recently? That sort of thing."
"I haven't spoken to my mother since I ran away." That was something he didn't particularly enjoy talking about. "I just... I don't know. I feel bad. I've felt bad for two years."
"Maybe you should see a doctor."
"I've got three dollars and a crappy apartment to my name. I don't think any doctor wants that."
"Don't be silly. This is America: they'll take your shit as long as they see profit in it." She spat out a piece of her claw and frowned. "Eh. Why do you feel bad all the time?"
"Well. I haven't eaten anything in... three days."
"What was your last meal?"
"An apple."
Juliet tilted her head. "You don't just not eat because you've got better things to do - certainly not in your case. What's bothering you?"
Malak finished off the water and crumpled the paper cup in his paw. "I guess I just don't have a reason to be alive."
"Come on. If you didn't have a reason to live, you wouldn't be alive. Everyone's put on this earth to do or change something - that's what I believe. Optimism isn't illegal, is it? Seems like it is."
The wolf felt anger flare in his heart, anger at people and Juliet and the world and all of existence itself, but mostly, anger at himself. "I killed someone. Does that count?"
"Oh shit."
"I didn't murder him or anything. Not like that. I..." He dropped his face into his paws and was quiet for a moment. "He died in a plane crash because of me. And I loved him."
"You're gay?"
He glared at Juliet. "Two plus two is four, last time I checked."
She shrugged. "Hey, I had a girlfriend once or twice. Or three or four times. Anyway, go on - if you want to, of course."
Malak held that glare for a few more seconds before continuing. "We had been together for... three years, and we'd been friends for much longer. His name was Alex, and... he was the most important thing in the universe to me. I don't know what I did wrong. I cheated on him, I messed up - I wasn't thinking - and... he left. Just like that. He was gonna move back to Hawaii, where he was born and his family lives, but... his plane crashed." He swallowed and looked up at Juliet; she looked back at him. "The last thing I said to him was that he can find the love he wanted in Hell. I didn't mean that. I didn't want him to leave, and I was scared, and angry, and worried, and panicking. If only I could go back in time and keep myself from doing any of that..."
"You don't want to do that."
He perked his ears.
"Ever seen Doctor Who?"
"Can you be serious for one moment? Is your brain capable of such a feat?" He shook his head. "I... I'm sorry, Juliet. I messed up beyond repair, and I'm terrified of it happening again. He was right about me. I don't deserve to be alive, but I don't have the courage to end it myself."
"Suicide doesn't take courage, Malak." Juliet locked eyes with him. "It takes cowardice. We all mess up; some just make larger mistakes than others."
"I made the largest mistake in the world."
"Maybe you did, maybe you didn't. I'm not one to say - and neither are you. Why should you continue punishing yourself like this when, in my opinion, you've already had more than enough punishment?"
Outside, the sun had begun to rise and the sky had started to light up. Malak would have to leave soon, to avoid social interaction with other people. "So I won't make the same mistake again."
"You're never going to have another chance, the way you're living."
"Exactly."
"That's not the point I was trying to make." Juliet was quiet for another moment, and then reached forward and tore a section off the crumpled cup, taking a pen from her pocket. "Here's my number," she said, and handed it back to him after writing it down. "If you ever need to just talk or anything, don't be afraid to call or text me or something, alright? I don't want to have you in my contact list as Restaurant Wolf."
"You know my name."
"But all I know about you is that you're a wolf from the diner I work at. I wanna get to know you better. Now, someone just walked in, and I need to get to them - I take it you'll be going soon? The only other thing I know about you is that you seem to have a potent aversion to other living beings."
"Yeah." Malak stood and shoved the number into his pocket, heading for the door; when he got there, he turned back. "Juliet?"
She looked up from across the diner, In the middle of seating the person that had just come in. "Yo."
Malak sniffed lightly. "Thank you."
She smiled and went back to what she was doing.
~ ~ ~
Malak thought about their conversation on the walk back to his apartment. What a peculiar creature that dog was - though, she probably thought the same about him. She was always so bright and talkative and bubbly, even at those demonic hours of the morning when he spoke to her - how could that be? Maybe if he learned more about her life, he'd know.
Perhaps this whole friendship thing wasn't so bad, and all he needed was to give it another try.
He fingered the semi-wet scrap in his pocket and looked up to the still-lightening sky: it had gone from a dark shade of grey to a slightly lighter shade of grey. This was how it had been for the past month or so; it was just that time of year. Malak loved it .Alex's favorite season was summer, with its warmth and blue, clear skies and everything, because he was that kind of person; Malak wasn't. He loved waking up - if that's what it was called - in the mornings and having to pull his blankets tighter around himself to warm up; he loved going outside and hardly being able to see because of the clouds covering what light the sun generated at dawn; he loved how the cold stung his throat each time he inhaled and how he could see that breath each time he exhaled. Of the few things he truly enjoyed, cold days were certainly one.
He crossed the street, which was still empty at this time of day, and followed the sidewalk that led to his apartment complex. He didn't know what first led Juliet to sit and talk with him: one day, she had just slid into the seat opposite him and sat there. That was the first time they had interacted, and they hadn't even done anything. She was a sweet, well-intentioned girl, though; he could tell. He just had to give her a chance.
The key stuck in the door of his apartment, and then the door stuck, too - he slammed his shoulder against it twice, and it finally opened. Inside, the light was off, and dusty grey half-sunlight filtered in through the single window; a ceiling fan twirled idly above the bed, looking as if it would fall at any moment; the paint on the walls was a dim shade of grey, and peeling; the carpet looked to be the same color and was prominently stained in places. This was where he lived. He had gone from a nice two-story house with a pool and a two-car garage to this. It was amazing how quickly his life had fallen apart: sometimes he wondered - and hoped - that this was all just some twisted dream.
If that was the case, then he was in a coma from which he would never awaken.
Emotionally falling into a pit was a lot like physically falling into a pit, Malak had realized: the descent was so, so quick and easy, requiring no effort towards it, while getting out of that pit was just about the hardest thing in the whole world. This pit was a two-year pit with no handholds on the way up and nobody at the mouth to offer a helping hand. He was all on his own.
He flopped back onto his bed and looked up at the ceiling fan; it looked right back at him, silent and apathetic. That was everyone else he had met for the past two years: they'd look at him, maybe mutter something under their breath about his torn ear or other scars or how he looks like he hadn't slept in a good four months, and then dodge his eyes and slink away. That was it. That was always it.
There was just no point to any of it.
He rolled onto his side and watched the crimson numbers of his bedside alarm clock: 6:04 AM. He was tired. He was so damn tired, but he couldn't get to sleep; each time he tried, something itched, or he was uncomfortable and had to readjust his position, or he had to wipe at his eyes because they were dry and they hurt, or his ever-rambling mind just simply would not let him.
Something like twenty minutes later, he sat back up and sighed. His phone was on the nightstand next to his bed; he grabbed it and fished the scrap out of his pocket, uncrumpling and looking over it again. Juliet would probably be off work by noon or so, as her shift started at 3 AM - Malak had only gotten to the diner before her once, on a particularly bad night. That was the first time she had said something to him, even if it was a joking "Dammit. You beat me."
He tapped her number into his phone and then slid it open for a text. He wanted to physically speak as little as possible, as it required more effort than he was really willing to put in. "This is Malak. When do you get off work?"
There was a bit of time between when he sent that and the reply; that was expected, as it was probably against the rules for her to use her phone while working, and she was also probably assisting another early-morning group. The bars that made up the numbers of his clock changed to 6:32. "A little bit before noon, but I eat right after I get off. You want to meet?"
Upside: he didn't have to listen to her speak these words. "Yeah. You have a place in mind?"
The ceiling fan above him creaked and clicked a few times. It did that; also, it swayed back and forth, back and forth as it turned. He was certain that it would one day fall and crush him. How nice that would be. "Why not just at where I work? I usually eat lunch there anyway. Be there at around 11:30, alright?"
So that was it, then. He didn't really know what it was: it just felt... good, almost, to tell someone about what had been weighing his heart down. He doubted that Juliet had been through a similar situation, but she could still probably give him at least half-useful advice.
After all, everyone had their own story, their own life and background. Malak's was that his boyfriend - his fiancé, actually - was killed in a plane crash. He turned his head to his nightstand: there, next to the clock, rested the necklace he had given Alex to signify their relationship. He had gotten a similar one in return, and as such, also was forced to give it back. He picked up the necklace and felt the cool silver chin run over his fingers like smooth water; the clasp in the back was broken, bent out-of-shape and very weak in holding together.
He remembered the first time he had fastened it around Alex's neck, and how amazing that felt; he remembered feeling the shape and form of the pendant in the middle of the night when his boyfriend had fallen asleep; he remembered clasping it in his lips and teeth while trying to suppress a moan in the middle of other nights. He placed it back on the nightstand and wiped his eyes.
What was the point of it all anymore? He got out of bed each morning and went to the diner because he simply had nothing else; if he had to work that day, he'd just do that afterward. Usually he was on the night shift - that was somewhat good, as it finally gave him something to do when he couldn't sleep. Every once in a while at the convenience store he worked at at, someone a little bit... different than the others would walk in, and he'd wonder about them. He'd appraise them like every other stranger did him: where did they come from, and where were they going? Were they a musician, or a football player, or a gamer? A delinquent pothead, or the predicted valedictorian? How long was their story?
One of these people had stuck in Malak's head: that person was an otter, slim and green-eyed. He smiled often, and looked like he didn't know any other expression; there was a bounce in his step and an arch in his tail that was very rare in the people that came in after midnight. Happiness was much like a virus, Malak had realized the first night this otter came in, in how it was so prone to catch and spread; it was like a virus, or fire. Something like that. He always found himself feeling a little bit better about life after speaking to that otter - one time, he had bought a soda for Malak, saying "You look like you need something to cheer you up." Malak had murmured a gentle thanks and watched the otter as he left: underneath that jocund façade, he sense that there might be something darker, something a bit less happy and more like himself.
It was his eyes that gave it away. They appeared bright, yes, but upon closer inspection were the dire opposite; also, they were always moving, never staying fixed in one place. It was almost as if he was nervous or scared of something.
Malak had to work tonight, from eleven to five in the morning. He didn't have that bad of a job, really; he got paid a few dollars above minimum wage to sit behind a counter and ring things up for the few people that came in. Alex had a similar job at one point in time, except he'd keep track of everyone he saw with a spiral notebook underneath the counter; Malak would look through it every once in a while and be utterly amazed with the detail. Alex said he could pick things up about them from them talking on the phone when they came in, or conversations they had with their friends - over time, the descriptions got longer and longer, sometimes even filling up the five pages he had reserved for each person. Alex said he did this because he wrote in his spare time when he had nothing else to do, and it helped him with his character development.
Malak had thought it somewhat creepy and frightening. Alex's mind seemed to function differently than anybody else he knew: he was ridiculously smart and observant, among a thousand other traits that Malak lacked. He often used t wonder what it was that led Alex to fall in love with him.
He just didn't understand much at all of life. That was really all there was to it.
~ ~ ~
Juliet's eyes followed someone passing by as she took a sip of her drink. "Nice butt," she muttered, and then looked back at Malak, who was sitting across from her.
She had bought him a pancake; he skewered a chunk with his fork and sniffed at it suspiciously. "I don't really know why I can't sleep," he continued. "I mean, I'm tired all the time - I'm fucking exhausted - but I just... can't sleep."
"Maybe you think too much. I usually can't get to sleep if I'm thinking a lot. Teach your mind how to shut up and leave you alone."
"If only it was that simple." Malak cage the pancake a lick and then took a bite. "Nothing's easy anymore, it seems. I remember when I woke up each morning around 9, feeling content and well-rested. I remember when I could name whatever kind of food I was craving, like something salty, or sweet, or fruity. I remember when music sounded good and when certain songs gave me chills. None of that happens anymore." He reached for Juliet's drink; she pushed it closer. "When I wake up now, it's usually three minutes after I manage to get to sleep. I'm just never hungry anymore, and the smell of most kinds of food makes me feel sick. Music now just sounds all the same."
The mutt across from him was quiet for a moment; all around was the soft murmur of other people's conversations. Malak pushed the pancake away and set his fork down. "Sounds like this Alex was your whole life."
"He really was... I miss him. I really miss him." Malak looked away; he felt his ears droop. "If I was thinking - if I wasn't being so damn stupid - he'd still be alive and we'd still be happy. It's all my fault that he's gone."
"Hey. Don't say that. At least blame the guys that you cheated on him with, too."
He turned a glare to her; she looked away and whistled to herself. "If you don't want to be serious, I don't want to talk to you about this."
"Alright, alright. Sorry. If you really loved him, like you say you did, then why'd you cheat on him?"
Malak sighed and swallowed. "I don't know. He had been acting a bit strange for a while before that - like, yelling at me, getting upset over small things, insulting me, really not acting like him at all - and... again, I don't know. I got mad, but I couldn't just directly vent that anger onto him. I couldn't just hit him or yell at him or anything like that. I'm not that kind of person. I guess I... I don't know. I wasn't thinking."
Juliet took another sip of her drink and then peered inside the cup. "Sounds to me he was just a bad boyfriend. Deserved it, if you ask me."
"No, no, no, he wasn't .He was the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I mean..." Malak shrugged. "He was sweet, caring, understanding... we had the same sense of humor, the same taste in music, movies, and books... he made me happy and gave my life meaning that nobody else ever has."
"Did he love you the same?"
Malak thought back to all those sweet nights and mornings. He thought back to their dates and days out, the little things they treated each other to. He thought back to how Alex had taught him to play violin, and how he taught Alex to play cello. He thought back to the cute voicemails and text messages one would leave if the other was away or working. He thought back to when they had exchanged necklaces, when they had exchanged hopeful promise that he now saw were false. Those tarnished promises hung on a weak silver chain. "Yes," he murmured. "He did. He did, and I threw that all away."
"It was a bullshit reason for him to leave so suddenly in that case. I mean, yeah, cheating hurts, but if you two really loved each other that much, he should've been able to get over it - for you." Juliet waited for Malak to look at her before continuing. "I should know. It's happened to me before, and I got over it; our relationship afterwards was, honestly, a lot better, and it didn't happen again. Are you sure that's why he left?"
"No." He remembered those orange eyes, something he had never seen before; they seemed to glow with a luminescence all their own, and even though they looked a light brown in darkness, their true color was still obvious. Sometimes he dreamed of those eyes, those charismatic yet haunting eyes, and would awaken with a chill. "It was certainly part of it, though. He said there was something else, that my damn cheating wasn't it... but he never said what, and that frightened me. It still does, to be honest. If he could only have told me... if I only could have been a better lover..." He slouched down and dropped his face back into his paws. Juliet watched quietly from across the table.
She reached out and placed her paw on his arm. He jumped slightly. "Listen to me, Malak." He looked up at her; she kept her voice low. "We all make mistakes - that's a part of life, just like breathing and growing up. It's going to happen, over and over and over again, and there's nothing you can do to stop that. I've made plenty of mistakes; so has my mother, and all my family, and all my friends, and everybody else I know. If you don't forgive yourself for those mistakes and accept that you're going to make more no matter what, then you'll never be able to... well, be happy and enjoy life because you'll be too busy worrying."
"What I did was unforgivable. I don't think you understand, Juliet: Alex is dead. It's not like we just broke up, and nothing more - I can't just say a few sweet words and tell a few lies about how wrong I was and find everything to be fixed. There's none of that."
"It's been two years."
"And he's not coming back, Juliet."
"Jesus Christ, man." She shook her head and leaned back against the padded back of the seat. Someone in a nearby booth peered over at her. "You're like every single high school kid who things they're the deepest motherfuckers who ever lived. 'Life is bleak and pointless,' am I right? Tell me, Malak: are you happy?"
The wolf hacked a dry laugh. "I'm never happy."
"Were you at least happy at some point or another in the past?"
"You know I was."
"Then what's keeping you from ever being happy again?"
"I lost Alex."
"What if you were to find a new Alex?"
He was silent.
"Please, Malak." Juliet reached over and took his paw in her own - he tried to pull it away, but she held it tight. "Find someone you think is a little interesting and start talking to him - or her, if you're willing to try something new - just to see what that person is like. Become friends, maybe eventually more. Alright?"
Still he was silent; however, his mind was overflowing with different thoughts, different memories, different hopes. He looked up and locked eyes with her.
"For me?"
This Juliet was strange. Their conversations hardly consisted of more than a few words before today, yet here she was holding his paw tight and urging him to step out of this life. She was halfway up the pit he was trapped in, offering down a rope and a paw so she could help him get to someone else above her who would pull him out and then keep him away from that pit. "Fine. For you."
He took that paw she offered, and even though he didn't show it, clasped onto it with all he had.
~ ~ ~
The moon gave off a gentle hint of sleepy illumination in the blue-black night sky; inside the convenience store, one of the lightbulbs overhead buzzed, the only thing breaking the otherwise absolute silence. Malak flipped through a newspaper he had grabbed from the rack by the counter when he walked in - by God, there was so much stuff he didn't care about.
Juliet had gone to bed a few hours ago - right now, it was a few minutes after midnight. Only about three or four people had come in since his shift had started, and none of them had said anything to him more than "thanks" or "you have a good night", to which he grumbled his usual monosyllabic responses. Alex wouldn't have written down much about any of those people.
He tossed the newspaper to the side and rested his feet on the counter, then crossed his arms over his chest. He often closed his eyes and rested for a bit like this, but as usual, never got to sleep - while on the job, he wasn't sure whether that was a good or a bad thing. It could go either way, really.
He sighed and readjusted his position, thinking about his conversation with Juliet. She had offered him genuine help and advice, and he had absolutely nothing to give her in return other than a bit of dry sarcasm and rude remarks. She knew that, too, so what was the reason behind everything she did? Was she just nice to her friends, regardless of how close that friend was? Or was she just this outgoing and generous to every stranger she met?
Malak found that second option to bother him a little, despite how he thought he was sure he felt about other people.
"Sleepy?"
The wolf jolted upright at the voice across the counter; standing there with a soda in each paw was that same happy otter he had noticed before. "Oh. Sorry." Malak scanned the sodas and then wiped at his face, using the time to remember what Juliet had told him to do. "Haven't been sleeping well recently."
"Really?" The otter opened one of the sodas and left the other on the counter after pushing it closer to Malak with a nudge from his wrist. "Any reason why?"
Malak shrugged and nodded his thanks; it just so happened to be his favorite drink, too. "It could be any number of things, really. It's been going on for quite a while now... gets frustrating, you know?"
"I used to have that problem." The otter took a sip of his drink and leaned back against the counter; Malak noticed that he wore an earring in his left ear. Alex used to wear earrings. "Not so much anymore, though. Glad about that. Oh, also - my name's Randal."
"Malak." At least they were getting somewhere. "What did you do to be able to sleep?"
"Oh, God, I dunno. I mean, a lot of things: I stopped watching TV before I went to bed; I stopped eating anything before sleeping; I changed my sheets once or twice; I put on some music every once in a while; I'd read a little bit more of a book each night before turning the light off. It just went away with time, though - I guess I could sleep better as I started worrying about less." Randal took another sip of his drink. Malak did the same, and then sighed.
"That's exactly what one of my other friends told me. I don't think she realizes it's not as simple as it sounds: I can't just 'stop worrying'."
"Tell me about it. I was getting over an ex; that was probably what was keeping me up at night. All the anger and disappointment, along with the regrets, the sad memories, the half-hopes. As more time passed, though..." The otter shrugged and turned his head; those radiant emerald eyes shone under the bluish-white light from the lightbulbs overhead. Malak straightened up. "...I don't know. I guess... I guess I just stopped caring."
"I've been there." Malak suddenly became aware of how bad he looked in comparison to Randal, and dropped his gaze. "What was her name?"
The otter turned his head back away and remained quiet for a moment. The perseverant buzzing of the broken light filled his silence. "It was a while ago, and somewhere else. You don't know him."
Malak felt his heart jump a little. Really. "You sure?"
"Yeah. He's..." The otter shrugged and looked into his can before taking another sip. "No offense or anything, but he's just not really your type. He's... I don't know." He was quiet for another moment. "I miss him."
Malak half-lifted his arm, then dropped it, then half-lifted it again and dropped it again. Come on, he urged himself. Come on. He reached out and closed his paw on Randal's shoulder; the otter brought his own up and lightly placed it on Malak's. His fingers were warm - so, so warm... "If..." Malak swallowed. How did Juliet do it so easily? "If you ever need someone to talk to about it, I'm usually here."
"No, no, no, it's fine - I'm over it now, and I'd rather not think about it too much, you know? Brings up bad thoughts and memories, and then I start questioning whether I really am over it or not, and... blah." Randal breathed out a slow sigh and dropped his paw from Malak's; the wolf took that as a cue to remove it. At least he tried to talk to this otter more, even though it looked like it just simply wasn't meant to be - and then, in a gentle voice: "Can I see your phone, though, Malak?"
The wolf thought back to when he had to check his phone for any dirty messages or pictures before handing it to someone, and smiled to himself while he fished it out of his pocket. That was something he hadn't had to do in almost three years now. "Here."
"Thanks." Randal kept it for a moment, flipping through a few menus and clicking some buttons before he handed it back. "Anyway - I've gotta get home to try to sleep. If I can't, you'll know."
"What did you do?" The phone was warm from those short few seconds in his paws. Malak looked over at him as he stepped toward the exit.
"Put my number in there. Also, I sent a text to myself so I could have your number." Randal pushed the door open and tossed his empty soda can into the bin outside. Then, he turned a smile to Malak; those green eyes smiled, too. "I like you, Malak," he said - the wolf couldn't help himself from smiling, too, and he maybe even blushed a bit. He turned his faze back to the counter. "You try to get some sleep soon, alright?"
When he looked up, the otter was gone, those eyes shrouded by darkness. Above him, the broken light had stopped buzzing. "Yeah," he murmured to the silence, and slipped his phone back into his pocket. "You too."
~ ~ ~
Juliet leaned back against the wall and huffed out a sigh. The restaurant was empty: it always was at this time of morning, the few hours before even Malak came in. When that wolf did arrive, he always sat in the same seat of the same booth by the same window. She had noticed that over time. They went through this little process every morning: Malak would enter; she'd look at him and he'd look back; he'd lumber over to his spot and slip into the seat; she'd stay where she was for a while and then bring him a cup of water or maybe something she had paid for with her own money. Sure, she had never heard him utter a single word of thanks, but she still did it. She didn't mind that much.
She could still remember the first time she saw Malak: she was wiping the tables down when he pushed past her. She jumped, not expecting anyone to be here that early, and glared at him; he didn't say anything, though, and took a seat. Throughout the morning until he left, she would steal little looks and glances at him, taking in a little bit more each time: the rip in his left ear, how often he sighed, how there was nothing in his voice and gaze, the silver-pink scar that stood out in contrast to the black fur of his arm. Juliet didn't like him at first, because he was new and strange and somewhat frightening - and rude. Well, that's what she thought until she started talking to him.
He wasn't rude at all: in fact, Malak was the very opposite. He didn't say anything because he didn't want to accidentally hurt or provoke someone, and when he did speak, he kept what he said short and in moderation. He was afraid of prolonged conversations and interactions; he was afraid of people in general; he was afraid of being seen and spoken to.
After their last few conversations, Juliet had come to the conclusion that he was afraid of falling in love.
She knew that there was something underneath the stony façade he worked so hard to keep up. She had heard his stories and seen how his face and emotions changed when he told them; she was certain that a warm, living heart beat in his chest, because she had seen its effects.
When she grabbed his paw, it was warm - warm, calloused, and very alive. Malak just didn't know that she had been wanting to do that for a while, though. What she had seen of Malak, the true, happy Malak, interested her. She had half-hoped that she would be the one he would start talking to more. She had hoped, and still did hope.
The clock on the opposite wall ticked once more: 6:40 AM. Someone had come in while she was lost in her thoughts - and it wasn't the black wolf with the pale blue eyes and torn ear. She sighed and went to take their order.