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Malak opened his eyes and stretched his arms over his head, giving voice to a massive yawn. He settled back down and pulled the blankets up to his chin - they were so warm, and his pillow so soft. He then asked himself whether he had to do anything today, and upon realizing he didn't, rolled over onto his side and once more closed his eyes -

• and then opened them right back up.

Sleep?

He slept?

He slept.

Did he dream? He sat up and scanned his thoughts, wondering simply how and why he slept. This morning, he actually wasn't tired; his head didn't hurt; he didn't feel sick upon sitting up. Why was that? He couldn't remember exactly when he fell asleep - was it like that for everybody?

On the nightstand next to the clock, his phone vibrated. He picked it up and looked at it: one new text message, received at 2:13 PM. He actually slept for eight hours and not eight seconds - it all came back. Before he fell asleep, he was texting Randal, that otter from the convenience store... and what a nice person he was. He was sweet, and friendly, and understanding; Malak felt like they were already close friends. Randal made him smile like nobody else had been able to in a long, long time. He read over the message: "You awake yet, sleepy?"

That made him smile. He had no idea why. "Yes, actually. I slept well."

"Good! I was hoping so. I slept alright, too. Dreamt of you."

Malak's smile widened. Was this going too fast? This wasn't going too fast. They were just two friends, two silly friends. But, then, memories drew a thick veil down over the present: "just two naïve friends who thought they had a chance at love." He shook his head and ignored that thought, that memory: that was a long time ago. He couldn't even actually remember Alex's voice. "Oh?" His fingers paused over the keys. What was he supposed to say to that? "What happened?"

"I'll tell you later today. Do you know where Lorena Park is? The one with the bench under the tree, and the sidewalk going through the middle and all?"

He thought about that and then realized that he had, in fact, been there once or twice before. "Yes, I do. Why?"

"Meet me there in an hour or so, alright, wolfy? I have to go for a bit. Talk to you later."

He set the phone back down on the nightstand and stretched his arms over his head again. He felt good today. He had no idea what the weather or temperature was like outside, but that didn't matter right now. He stood, stretched again, considered lying back down but decided against it, then reached for his clothes that he had strewn all over the floor before going to sleep last night - well, this morning. He hoped this good mood would last, yet had an ache in the back of his mind that made him sure it wouldn't. After all, the last time he had awoken in a good mood was the morning on which Alex broke up with him and kicked him out of the house.

If he left his apartment now, he could probably make it to the park with ten, maybe twenty minutes to spare. That would be nice, because he could have some time just to himself to relax - not that he wasn't looking forward to meeting with Randal, though, of course. There was just something in that otter's smile and voice, something in those bright charismatic eyes that drew Malak in and made him want... well, more. He had known him - really known him - for less than a full day, and he already hoped that he would someday be able to study the patterns in those eyes. He wondered, somewhat distractedly, if Randal felt the same way about him.

The sun was shining outside in a mostly-clear sky. That was somewhat strange for such a day somewhere between autumn and winter, but Malak didn't care. The winds that blew were still brisk, and the people that walked around still wore more than one layer, some with scarves around their necks or gloves on their paws. Malak locked the door behind him and shoved his own paws into his pockets, looking either way down the sidewalk to be sure there wasn't anyone coming - he was in a better mood than yesterday, yes, but still didn't feel like going out of his way to greet someone that he would never share another word of conversation with again. He still had his sensible limits.

A few yards away, he realized that he had left his phone inside. He grumbled and turned back, having to push past a white-furred fox who had given him a questioning look for so suddenly changing his course. The inside of his apartment felt so dreary and dead compared to the world outside: he looked from the creaking fan, the blades of which had turned a wan yellow-grey, to the peeling paint of the opposite wall that also looked a sickly grey, to the lightbulb in the floor lamp that he knew for a fact didn't work. Maybe he'd save up after a while to buy some new furniture and redecorate. That seemed like a good idea.

His phone flicked on when he grabbed it, informing him that he had one new text message. That was strange: it couldn't be Randal, because he had to go. He read it on his way out the door - again: it was from Juliet. "Missed you this morning. Where were you?"

Oh, shit. That's right. "Sorry. I was asleep."

"You? Asleep? If you don't want to hang out, wolfy, you'll have to think up a better excuse than that."

Wolfy. Randal had called him that, too. Why was that? Was it just a coincidence? Perhaps Juliet had always called him that, but he only noticed today. "Again, I'm sorry. I talked to someone yesterday, like you told me to..."

~ ~ ~

"...and I'm going to hang out with him today."

Juliet read over that text a few times, playing around with the way Malak had organized the words to see if he had meant anything else - she couldn't find anything, and that pissed her off. As much as she didn't like it, though, as much as she wished Malak had said something different, those words were right there in front of her. She took her time in hitting the reply button, thinking up her response, and then in typing it in. "Oh." What else? "Well, I'm happy for you."

As soon as she sent that, she hoped her jealousy wasn't so obvious. That would be bad. Malak had told her that he was gay, of course - had this whole thing happened in high school instead of now, all her overexcitable chittering little friends would tell her a million times in a minute about how it was hopeless and she was totes barking up the wrong tree and it would never work and yeah okay he was really kinda cute. She had seen some leniency, so to say, in old friends who claimed the same thing before. She had ended up really liking those friends, too.

Maybe Malak would see what he had done wrong and then would start talking to Juliet more to make up for his mistake. She felt as if she didn't have to say anything for him in order to figure it out; she could just vaguely imply things, and that would be sufficient. Because that was certainly how things worked with relationships in the real world.

"Yeah. We haven't spoken much, but I really hope things work out between us. It hasn't even been a day yet, and I already feel a lot better." She snorted and went on reading. "Thanks for helping me, Juliet. I wouldn't be where I am without you."

She felt that she deserved more than just that as thanks, but okay. It would have to do. "I care about you, Malak, believe it or not." Where did that come from? Her thumb hovered over the backspace, but then she decided to keep that. "It's the least I could do. For a friend."

Juliet once had a friend she was very close to: he was a cat, just an average tan-furred tabby, who was gay. His name was Marcus. They had been friends as children, the kind of friends who smiled at each other in the halls and helped each other on homework every once in a while, but really nothing more. Things between him and Juliet escalated as their high school years began and progressed: they started talking more as a result of having more classes together, which in turn let to them exchanging phone numbers to talk outside of school and then hanging out on the weekends. By that time, Juliet had heard all about what he identified as, and she was no stranger to the stories of the supporting evidence. They had started to watch TV together, the space between them on the couch gradually growing smaller as more time passed; they started to sit next to each other on the bus and in the classes that permitted them to; they talked more and more outside of the school, always just reverting to an old topic in the case that they ran out of things to talk about.

At that time, Marcus and Juliet both had boyfriends of their own. Marcus had revealed that he was going to break up with hi soon, though, and Juliet felt that things with hers were deteriorating - she thought he was cheating on her, but didn't tell him. He still broke up with her a few days later, as did Marcus with his boyfriend. That weekend, they sat on the couch in the living room with Sweeney Todd on; Juliet's parents were out somewhere - which they both knew - and wouldn't be back for several hours - which they both also knew. Juliet didn't know exactly when, but at some point in time, Marcus's paw had found its way to hers: her heart sped up a bit and she smiled to herself, intertwining her fingers with his. Things escalated quickly and predictably from there: Marcus moved his arm around Juliet and pulled her close; she nuzzled against him and breathed in the scent that she had grown so familiar with and accustomed to; he turned and planted a kiss on her head; she looked at him - he looked back - and then their lips met.

She knew Marcus was gay. She knew that. That didn't matter: she realized that day that, if there were to be no physical difference between a male and female, it would be impossible to discern one from the other. She realized that, and Marcus realized that too. He wasn't attracted to her body - well, okay, maybe he was, because after that day he identified as bi - but to her personality. He didn't care that she was a girl, because he loved her, and he had shown that love multiple times - whether it was in the form of a hug, a kiss, a sweet goodnight or good morning text or voicemail, a movie, a dinner date, whatever. She still wore on her index finger the silver ruby ring he had given her on their two year anniversary.

They were together for three years - until one day, he stopped texting and calling. Juliet didn't see him at school anymore, and a few days later, was interviewed by Channel 5 for the news broadcast of the murder of him and his family.

Her phone vibrated in her paw against her ring, shocking her out of her memories. That was several years ago now. "Yeah. Friends," Malak had sent back. "All this time, I was looking at it right in the face and yet still couldn't see it. I've always had a friend - I've never really been lonely."

If only you knew the extent of it, Juliet thought. If only you knew.

She wasn't that upset, though. Since her relationship with Marcus, she had been somewhat nervous about falling in love again for fear that the same thing would happen again, as little chance as there was. Malak reminded her of Marcus - not the cold, quiet, antisocial Malak, no, but the happy, colorful Malak. That was why she felt attracted to the wolf: he brought up joyous old memories that she wished she could visit again.

Was that the wrong reason to pursue a relationship? It sure as hell felt wrong, but yet... she still wanted it. Maybe Malak couldn't get over how she was female. Maybe that was just the way he was. Oh well. There was nothing she could do about it. She wanted him, but he wanted that otter.

Dammit, Malak. There were so many things she wanted to say to him; instead, though, she slipped her phone back into her pocket and sighed.

~ ~ ~

Malak glanced down at his phone again: twenty minutes had passed, and Juliet still hadn't responded. She was probably just busy - but she couldn't be at work, because lunch was a few hours ago and she got off just before that. He didn't worry about it too much, though.

Next to him on the bench, Randal yawned. He wore a light brown coat that really offset the color of his eyes; he pulled it tighter around himself and scooted closer to the wolf. "God, I'm sleepy today. I mean, I slept well - I slept great, better than I have in a while - and I'm still exhausted. Huh. I guess I'll just head to bed early tonight."

Malak also moved closer to Randal; he could feel the pleasant heat of his body seeping through that thick jacket of his. That was nice - he smiled to himself. He was wearing only jeans and a slightly torn shirt, so the warmth was welcome. Randal knew he was cold: but, as the wolf had figured out by now, he was a tease about things like that. "I feel great."

"I wasn't talking about you, though, was I?" Randal grinned, which made Malak laugh. "So shush, you. What's strange, though, is that my living room couch is a whole lot more comfortable than my actual bed. Fell asleep there last night after watching a movie. Okay, part of a movie. Okay, the title sequence of a movie." He licked his lips idly. Malak noticed he had a habit of doing that. "I was tired, alright?"

"Obviously. I did... nothing before bed last night." The wolf shrugged. A couple passed by, arm-in-arm; he followed them with his eyes, and then thought he felt Randal press closer. "I don't have a TV, so."

"You don't?"

"Nope. I live in a shitty apartment. I have a bed, a dresser, a lamp, a refrigerator, and a microwave. That's about it."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

Randal was quiet for a moment, emerald eyes focused on absolutely nothing. "You know," he said in a low voice. He hooked his arm around Malak's. "If you need someplace better to stay at, I'm always open... you can take the couch, and I'd take the bed. If you want, of course. I don't want to pressure you into making a decision you don't want to."

Malak looked at this otter: in his eyes was genuine concern, and he could detect nothing in his voice that hinted he was lying. Here was another person he hardly knew that opened up their life and generosity to him to cheer him up a bit and make things a little bit easier for this down-on-his-luck wolf. Here it was, happening again, and he still had nothing to give in return. "I won't be able to pay rent. I don't want to be in the way."

"No, no. No rent. Not for you. I know what you're going through, Malak." The otter looked into his eyes and sniffed in the cold air. "I've been there before. It's hard, it's stressful, and it's tiring - and I know what it's like to not have someone there, when really, that's the one thing you need. If not for you, then do it for me."

Juliet had said that too: for me. Never for you, but always for me. That was what had started all of this. What would she have to say about this? Malak looked down at his phone again and found that he had a new text message. That would have to wait until later. "Randal..." He turned until he was facing the otter and then took those paws in his own; they were still warm, even on such a cold day as today. "I... would really enjoy that. I can't express my thanks right now - I mean, nobody else has offered, not even my closest friend." Juliet was his only friend, so therefore, by extension, she was also his closest friend. Maybe he would go by the diner tomorrow morning, provided that he woke up early enough. If he didn't, though, he wouldn't. The wolf saw his reflection in the cool pupils of those eyes; he looked from one to the other and back, inspecting and comparing the patterns. There was a fleck of a darker green in the left that wasn't in the right. "You're..." he murmured softly. His breath formed little translucent clouds in the cold air. "You're really sweet. Thank you so much."

The otter came forward and drew him into a hug. Malak was startled at first, and somewhat nervous, too: the last time he was hugged, he also got a deep gash on his arm from a carving knife. He was just unfortunate when it came to that kind of thing. He tried to relax, though, savoring the warmth and inhaling a gentle scent that was all otter and Randal and something else that was kinda familiar and perhaps lavender.

"You alright?" he heard the otter whisper into his ear. He shifted a bit. "You're shaking a little."

Malak breathed in and then breathed out. He loved that scent already. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just kinda cold."

"Well," Randal went on, drawing back from the hug. He kept his arms around the wolf. "I was going to tell you to dress appropriately for the weather, but... I just kinda figured that you'd..." He fell quiet, and then laughed. "You know what? Never mind. We can go, if you'd like. I'll show you my place."

"Yeah, that sounds good - again, thanks."

Randal stood and extended a paw - Malak felt a gentle blush warm his cheeks and took it. Of course, that paw was warm. "If you need to get your stuff from your apartment later, you could just use my car."

"All the stuff I need I have with me." Malak gave a squeeze, and smiled when he got one in return. "Don't worry about it. I think I will take a nap when we get there, though... that sounds good."

"Yeah, it kinda does."

Malak glanced over. Randal was looking up at the sky.

~ ~ ~

Juliet sat on the floor of her room and flipped through an old spiral notebook, using just the dim light from the window behind her to see. She used to keep a log of all her dreams, just as a sort of interesting hobby; she stopped, though, with Marcus's death. Those nightmares still haunted her sometimes - those were the times she ached for companionship, even if it was just an arm to cling to. There was just something about having a living, thinking person to care about her that made things so, so much easier.

She hadn't had that in a long time.

She turned another page in the notebook, one that was crispy and textured with the heavy strokes of her pen. Some of the entries were just one or two lines, while others took up to a full page and a half or so; they were all equally strange and abstract, though. That was what really interested her about them: they always contained these things and subjects that she had never once thought about while awake. Some of those things recurred and showed up in different dreams, too - unrelated things, some seeming to always occur with another. Just from flipping through these few pages and skimming the words, she had found the following more than once: stone, night. Lightbulbs, spiders. A black wolf.

She fully realized that any or all of these could mean either nothing or more than she would believe. Part of the reason she had spoken to Malak in the first place was because he had shown up in her dreams in the past, over and over again. Well, okay, it wasn't him, but it was still a black-furred wolf. It could be important, as it could also be unimportant; besides, she usually forgot her dream right after writing it down, and sometimes even before.

She had one dream a few nights ago, one that had stuck in her mind, one that she couldn't fully forget. The sky was dark, and it was raining heavily; the few trees around swayed under the winds. The sidewalk was dark with the rain and cold to her feet - when she looked down, she saw that a deep shade of red was blossoming and spreading in the puddle she stood in. Its searching tendrils were so graceful, so beautiful, food coloring dripped into a glass of warm water...

Her phone vibrated on the floor next to her - she grabbed it and read the message, hoping it would be from Malak. Of course, though, it wasn't. He hadn't responded in five hours. Probably hanging out with his new boytoy, she thought to herself. No room for me. Even though I was the one who gave him the courage to talk to him, I deserve to be ignored.

She closed the notebook and tossed it across the room; fuck that. Right now, she was tired. She just wanted to sleep. Maybe she would see Malak tomorrow - maybe, but probably not. But still maybe.

If only she had been more friendly - or less friendly? It was hard to tell with that wolf. If only she had been more upfront about her wish for their relationship. If only life wasn't so goddamned hard - if only it didn't continue getting harder the longer she lived.

If only, if only.

She considered beginning a notebook full of her regrets. She would have it filled at least halfway already.

~ ~ ~

Malak kept his eyes focused on some point somewhere in the darkness above him. Randal was right when he said the couch was comfortable: it was about the most damn comfortable thing the wolf had ever come into physical contact with. When he first laid down to test the validity of those words, he fell asleep within a few minutes; now, he was wide awake in this dark, unfamiliar house, unsure of where anything was and if he was even allowed to do anything without being given permission. And, yet, he still felt better than he ever had back at his apartment. Needless to say, he wasn't complaining.

It was a bit strange, the way things had been working out for him recently: everything just suddenly started to turn up in his favor. Again, he wasn't complaining. Life had suddenly plunged him into sadness, so what was keeping it from doing the opposite?

Something about this still felt a bit off, though; he couldn't place exactly what. Maybe it was how Randal treated him with such open friendliness even though they just met. Maybe it was the unnatural brightness of his eyes - brightness that was almost literal. Maybe it was how the otter's voice and mannerisms seemed vaguely familiar to Malak - did he know a Randal in school? That seemed about right. He knew lots of people in school, back when he could stomach social interaction.

He rolled over onto his side and looked into the dead black screen of the television. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about Randal right now: yes, he was just about the sweetest person he had ever met, and okay, he was cute like very few people he had seen, and he was so nice and funny and just an enjoyable person to be around. Malak was actually somewhat nervous: was the otter really all of these things, or did it only seem like it? He was literally maybe the fourth person Malak had willingly initiated conversation with in almost three years. What if he was just out of it?

No, that was absurd. The wolf sighed and pulled the one blanket he had up closer. More things would turn up as time went on: they always did. Alex had seemed absolutely perfect for the first few months of their relationship, all of these things Randal is and a million more - and then Malak learned about his mental issues. Most of those had been under control by the time Alex left school; he still had horrible nightmares every once in a while, though, and he also had trouble focusing. That was why he kept that notebook of people, and also why he wrote in his spare time in the first place. Really, his brain was just too active, and he had too much energy - far too much energy: Malak could still remember multiple occasions when he was so out of breath that he had to just lay there for an hour or two next to Alex in bed before he could even try to sleep.

That memory brought up a multitude of different feelings, all of which he didn't particularly want to experience right now. He shoved that away and steered his mind back to Randal, back to his current situation. There was really nothing he could do other than just wait and see about his relationship with that cute otterboy. Perhaps it would go somewhere; perhaps Randal was the person on the edge of the pit, reaching his paw down. Perhaps this friendship would one day turn into love.

Or, perhaps it wouldn't. It was just so damn hard to tell how someone really felt - most of the time, they act how they do out of politeness and not wanting to be rude. Either that, or they didn't show how they felt because they were embarrassed or scared, or because they simply didn't like feeling that way. This was Malak, and it always had been - he knew a million ways he could express his thanks and gratitude to Randal. However, since that one thing Alex had said to him, those few barbed words that had stuck in his mind, all of those ways just felt wrong - because, after all, who could love a whore?

Alex, Alex, Alex. Always Alex; never anybody else, not even himself. Alex seemed to be the only person, the only thing that consumed his mind, and he had been dead for two years - three next month. The time for replacing those memories with other happier thoughts was long gone; so, shouldn't Malak get started soon?

He rolled over once more and closed his eyes, checking his phone for the time before doing so. He'd take Randal with him tomorrow and introduce him to Juliet. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea.

~ ~ ~

Maybe he'd figure it out eventually, Juliet thought. Across from her sat Malak, and then beside him, that damn otter of his. Not all guys are as stupid as she gave them credit for - sure, most of them, but still not all.

"So," she began; the otter smiled at her. Okay, he was cute. Really cute. They both were. Fuck. "What's going on between you two? Malak has been talking about you a lot, uh..."

"Randal." He smiled again. He seemed like the kind of person who was happy all the time. That kind of person pissed her off.

"Randal." She looked to Malak, who averted her eyes; was that a blush she saw? Malak didn't blush. She just assumed it was physically impossible for him. "Yeah, he's been saying a lot about you. He really likes you."

"Juliet! -"

"Oh, yeah," said Randal, over Malak's grumbled complaints. "I know. He doesn't really do that good a job of hiding it."

The wolf gaped at him. Juliet couldn't help chuckling to herself, despite the situation.

"What? You don't."

"So are you two together, or what?" She took a sip of her drink, not really sure what to expect as an answer. She knew she wouldn't like it, though.

Those two looked at each other in silence for a few seconds; Randal giggled softly, and then Malak's blush deepened. "Well." The otter looked back to her. "I'm not - I mean, we're not sure." He turned back to Malak and lowered his voice. "What do you say?"

Those blue eyes flicked over to Juliet. Fuck you, she though. She tried telepathically transmitting her brainwaves, laden with nasty words and thoughts. Malak turned back to his otter. "I wouldn't mind all that much..."

"Neither would I. I mean, might as well; if not just now, it would've happened soon anyway."

That was that, then. Juliet leaned back in her seat and breathed out a sigh. "Well, I'm happy for you two. It's about time you found someone, Malak."

"Exactly what I was thinking." Malak intertwined his paw with Randal's underneath the table. She could tell by the way their arms moved.

"So, do you have anyone?" The otter continued smiling, but there was something different to it now. "I'm sorry, Malak hasn't said much about you."

Of course he hasn't. Maybe he wasn't so much like Marcus after all. "No," she replied - he looked at her and raised his eyebrows, picking up on her tone of voice. "I don't. Haven't in a while."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I really hope you'll be able to find someone soon, then - I know what it's like to be lonely."

Malak kept his eyes focused on Juliet. It was she who looked away this time. "We all have," he said, keeping his voice somewhat low. "Some stay lonely for longer than others, some are hardly lonely at all, and some never find anyone."

She thought back to when she was with Marcus: he had seemed happy and in a good mood all the time, but when she had really started talking to him, she found out that was not true at all. What if Randal was the same/ Malak had sure as hell had far more than enough darkness and depression for one lifetime. Would he be able to handle their relationship? She feigned a yawn to cover up her silence in thought and then smiled back at the otter. Feigned, too, of course. "Oh, no, don't worry about it. Life is life - shit happens. If Malak can find someone, so can I."

Randal nodded and was quiet for a moment before speaking. "I hope you do. Well, it was great meeting you and talking, Juliet - Malak hasn't said much about you, but what he has made you sound fantastic. And, you really are. Now, I'm sorry to dash, but me and him have a movie to catch."

The wolf looked at him, not expecting to be included in the conversation again. "We do?"

"Alright." Juliet continued to try to shoot those thoughts into the wolf's head. Maybe one or two of them got through, judging by how he glanced at her after standing up. "I'll see you two later. Malak, you better text me."

And, then, they were gone. She leaned against the cushioned back of the seat and tilted her head back, closing her eyes against the bright lights on the ceiling. All around her was the half-audible murmuring of everybody else's conversations underneath all the various dings and clinks of silverware and plates against each other. She sat there, alone in a sea of people, with rambling thoughts and nobody to talk to. If only she could have gotten some time to speak to Malak alone - maybe then, she could have sorted things out. Would she have had the courage to say anything, though? Here, alone, it seemed so easy: however, she knew bye experience that it never was when it came down to it.

Everything wasn't all too bad, though. Malak had smiled, and he had blushed, and he was actually sincerely happy for once. That was something she had never been able to do. As much as she hated him right now - and that damnable otter, too - that still made her feel a bit better. Malak was her friend - regrettably, nothing more - and she cared about him. She couldn't help letting his happiness lift her own mood: that was just the way she was.

Things were going to turn out okay, one way or another. She was sure of that - and why was she so sure? Malak's fiancé was killed in a plane crash, and life had finally started going well for him.

Besides, shit does, in fact, happen. She had come to that conclusion long ago, and was reminded of it almost every day. She was fairly certain that Malak and Randal wouldn't last, especially since they had just met two days ago. Few relationships did. She, right now, was proof of that.

~ ~ ~

A bird chirped outside the window and then fluttered off to wherever birds went during the day. The tree it was just sitting in swayed and murmured to itself in a gentle morning breeze; sunlight filtered in to the room through green half-drawn curtains. Malak yawned and rolled over in the bed, loving how his pillow and blankets had soaked in his body heat while he slept and now were pleasantly warm; not only that, but the air smelled of hot steam, and the hiss of the running shower whispered in his ear.

He opened his eyes and looked around the room: there was an ornate dresser on the opposite wall, stained a beautiful deep reddish-brown; a violin and a few books rested on top of that dresser, with a lamp next to those; a decorative rug laid on the floor by the door, which was partially open; a few paintings that he had come to recognize and love over the months hung on the walls, most originals; a few tables and bookshelves the same shade as the dresser stood around the room as well. He hadn't been living here all that long, but in the time he had, he felt more and more like he really did belong here - for instance, when he spoke to people, this was the place he was referring to when he said 'home'. He had started getting letters at this address, too; while most of that was junk mail, it still felt good. This bed could easily hold four, perhaps five people. Every night, it held two.

The digital clock next to him told him it was 9:53 AM, Saturday. This was the latest he had slept in a while, and also the best. He couldn't remember a time when life was better. Two sets of clothes rested next to each other a few feet from the bed - he smiled, remembering what it was that had led those clothes to be removed last night. Getting off work for the weekend wasn't the only reason he loved Fridays.

"Good morning, you."

In his thoughts and sweet memories, he hadn't realized that the shower had turned off. He turned his head and looked to the doorway to the bathroom: his eyes were drawn to the body that leaned against the threshold there. He took in the cream fur of his boyfriend's chest, slick and moistened by the water, then moved his gaze down to his belly, his abdomen, further, further down... "Hey there."

"You sleep alright?"

Malak nodded and licked his lips, forcing himself to look back up. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. How was your shower, hon?"

"Oh God. I'm about ready to head back to bed." The otter went back into the bathroom and grabbed a towel to dry himself off. "Today's Saturday, right? Can I do that?"

"Yes, you can. I think I may as well join you." Malak scooted over in the bed, allowing room for him to slip in.

The otter shivered and pulled the covers up, then wrapped an arm around Malak and nuzzled into his neckfur. "Mm... you're so warm, and I love the way you smell... I ever tell you that?"

"Multiple times. I ever tell you the same, hm? You and your... what kind of shampoo?"

"Lavender." His voice was muffled by the thick black fur of the wolf's neck, and his claws traced small circles on his chest. "Always has been, always will be. I like lavender."

"Yes, lavender. That's it."

The otter looked up and smiled. "I love you, Malak."

The sunlight from the window illuminated his face and glinted off those eyes. Malak had long since memorized the patterns of the irises: in the left was a fleck of a dark brown, and the pupil of the right was rimmed with gold. The warm sunlight turned those eyes almost instead of their actual tangerine that he had grown so accustomed to looking in to each morning.

"I love you too, Alex."

~ ~ ~

Malak sat up and looked around, heart beating in his chest and breath heavy and uneven. He was under a single blanket on a couch in a living room, not under several on a king mattress in a master bedroom. It was Thursday or Friday, depending on the time, not Saturday. There was no sun, no breeze, no green curtains, no violin, no paintings of which he knew the artist: there was instead night, darkness, a television, a table, the couch he was lying on. His boyfriend was Randal, not Alex. Randal was alive. Alex wasn't. Emeralds, not amber. It had been weeks since he had been invited into this house, not months. That was a dream. Just a dream.

It was in such vivid detail, though, as if it had just happened. That was what worried him.

He reached forward to the table and grabbed his phone, flicking it open to send a text. It was just about three in the morning: Juliet should be awake by now. "You there?"

He didn't know why that dream shook him so much. It wasn't the first flashback he had - no, not by a long shot. His heartbeat still hadn't returned to normal by the time he got a reply. "Yeah. Was just getting ready to head to work. You alright? I haven't heard from you in a week."

"I'm okay," he typed, but then deleted that. Even though they didn't see each other much anymore since he got with Randal, his friendship with Juliet had increased steadily; they were long past hiding their feelings from each other. "I'm scared. I just had a dream."

"Nightmares?"

"No, it was just a dream. A good dream. It was of back when I was with Alex, and... I thought it was actually happening."

"So why are you scared?"

He breathed in and out, in and out. This blanket smelled of himself, and just himself - there was no lavender, no Alex. He shook as he typed in his response. "I'm worried about my relationship with Randal. I thought I was over Alex and what happened to him, because I haven't dreamt about him in a long time. I can't just start wanting him all over again. He's gone. I have Randal now."

"Maybe he reminds you of Alex, and that's why you're attracted to him. I know someone who reminds me of an ex I really loved, and... I wish we could be more, but he doesn't notice me."

Malak thought about that. He couldn't quite remember Alex's voice, but... their personalities were similar, just a little bit. Randal couldn't play violin - cello, but not violin. Randal's eyes were green, certainly green. A natural color. He didn't write, but he loved reading. He showered at night, not in the morning, and his shampoo was... lavender. "It still worries me." He wiped his paw over his forehead; it came away sweaty. "I mean, if I'm thinking about an old ex this far into our relationship, what will happen later? Alex left me because I couldn't focus on just him. Who could love a whore? What if the same happens with Randal?"

Juliet's reply was quick: "Malak..."

He cursed himself for being so stupid. "Who in their right mind could ever love me?"

He regretted sending that as soon as he did. Juliet wasn't one to sugarcoat anything or make it polite - and, to be honest, he was afraid of the truth. Randal was all he had right now, and he couldn't lose that, even if it wasn't love quite yet. He wouldn't be able to handle being alone after being shown such hope - the fall back into the pit would kill him, and then, it would be a welcome death.

His phone vibrated in his paw - he put off reading the text. Perhaps if he ignored it long enough, it would go away. Why couldn't all problems be like that? He sighed and swallowed, still shaking a little bit. He felt like he didn't belong in this house, like he didn't belong in anyone's house; after all, he had nothing to give anyone who showed interest in him other than disappointment, regret, and a few lies. Reluctantly, he turned his phone to his face. Reluctantly, he opened the message. Reluctantly, he started reading the black text against the white screen:

"I could."

Two words. That was it. Juliet wasn't one to distort the truth. Malak didn't know what to say; he closed his phone and set it back on the table, trying to hold in all the emotions those two short words elicited in him. That, along with his dream and all the other things that had been steadily mounting as more time passed, suddenly became too much. He dropped his face into his paws and sobbed quietly, hot tears soaking into his fur, raspy breaths shaking his whole body. Dammit, dammit, dammit, he thought. Damn you, Alex, and damn you, Randal, and you too, Juliet, and just... damn it all. If Malak was cursed to be alone and depressed forever, so be it. He would get used to it within a week or so.

A light down the hall flicked on, and he could hear gentle footsteps on the carpet. He didn't even bother trying to hide his sobs - there was no point. He wiped at his eyes with the blanket and looked up as those footsteps got closer.

"Malak, are you okay? I was coming to get myself a glass of water, but... are you okay?"

"What does it look like?"

Randal sat down next to him. He wasn't wearing a shirt. "Looks like you just need someone right now. What's going on?"

Malak wiped his nose on his arm and sniffed. Those two words stuck in his mind, heavy and resilient. "I feel terrible."

The otter put his arm around him. "I have some Pepto in my bathroom, if that would help..."

"No. No, not that. I mean... I feel terrible. Absolutely horrible." Randal's paw was warm on his shoulder. "Randal... we shouldn't be together."

He fell silent, and his ears drooped. "Oh," he said. His eyes looked almost brown in the lack of light. "You're... breaking up with me."

"No, no, no, I'm not. It's just..." Malak tried to steady his breathing so he could speak. "...I'm a bad boyfriend. In the end, I just hurt everyone who loves me. My fiancé fucking left me because I cheated on him." Randal's arm tightened around him. "I'm just not meant to be happy. You deserve better than me."

"Malak..." warm breath washed over his muzzle. "Hon... that was the past. I don't care. I know it's hard sometimes. I know you forget, or it's too good an opportunity to pass up, or you have terrible foresight, or maybe you're just that horny. I know, and I understand. If anything happens, just come and talk to me and we'll sort it out, alright? You're my boyfriend, and I'll do what I can to keep it like that."

"But I'll just hurt you in the end."

"There's always hurt in the end, and it always ends. I'm willing to postpone that end for as long as possible." Randal cupped Malak's chin in his paw and tilted his head toward him. "Are you?"

The wolf looked through his own bleary tear-fogged eyes into Randal's, several shades darker in this light than they actually were - again, almost brown. The fleck of darker green in his left was obvious here. Malak didn't trust himself with speaking: instead he nodded, weakly.

"Good. Don't worry, Malak. Worry is just a catalyst for the realization of fears."

"Randal, I -"

He was cut off by a pair of soft, warm lips pressing to his own. Randal's paw crawled down his arm and intertwined with his. "Shh," whispered the otter. "Don't worry."

Malak breathed out a shuddering sigh. That got his heart beating all fast again. "I'm gonna try to get back to sleep."

"Yeah, me too." Randal stood, but didn't let go of his paw.

Malak looked up at him. "You have to let go of me."

"Why?" He smiled one of his little sweet smiles, and his eyes glinted in the darkness. "You're sleeping in my bed tonight."

Those words took a few moments for the wolf's mind to process - halfway down the hall, he realized what was happening, but strangely wasn't fully sure whether he wanted it or not. He had been trying not to go too fast in this relationship, had been trying to keep things under control - would they be sleeping together from this night forward? Or did Randal only offer it tonight because of Malak's current emotional situation? It was so hard to tell.

He was right, though, in what he said: Malak did need someone right now. That was all he ever needed. He had had someone for the past few weeks since he first met Randal, but forced himself to keep that relationship at arm's length so as not to fuck up once more or end it too early. When Randal closed the door to his bedroom behind him, Malak suddenly thought: what if I was inhibiting the natural flow of the relationship? What if I was actually going too slow instead of just slowing things down? What does Randal want? Does he just want sleep, or...?

He met the otter's eyes; Randal motioned toward the bed and smiled again. "Go ahead and get comfortable," he murmured. "I'll be in in a moment."

The mattress was soft when Malak laid on it, and the sheets on this side of the bed chilly with just a ghost of heat. They smelled purely of lavender, and otter, and Randal. No Alex, no Malak - not yet, at least. While lying there alone ,the wolf asked himself: should I be wearing pants? It wasn't his bed, these weren't his sheets, and this wasn't his house - but they were all his boyfriend's. What would Randal be wearing when he came back from the bathroom? Would either of them be able to tell what the other had on in the darkness? Did it really matter?

He felt the covers next to him shuffle and rustle as the otter slipped in. The warmth from his body quickly seeped into Malak's own and brought all sorts of different thoughts and memories, different wants and quiet other things. He found Malak's paw and brought it around his body; the wolf ran his fingers through the warm, soft fur of his lower back, massaging with his claws as he did so. "Try to get to sleep. I'm here - you've got nothing to worry about. I'll be here when you wake up."

Malak continued moving his paw down the sleek form of that body, feeling down his spine, the base of his tail, his hip, his bare thigh. Randal grunted gently and took that paw in his own, moving a bit closer. "Sleep," he murmured, and nuzzled into the fur of Malak's neck. Just like in his dream. "Sleep."