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Chapter Three (I Live Alone)

I remember the day I met him.

That day felt like a new kind of day. It felt like adventure was just waiting for me, if only I would head outside. And of course I did. Now I'm here.

That morning, I felt like doing nothing but staying in bed...

Maybe I should've.

---

I wake with a miserable grumble that sounds much closer to a whine. I don't even open my eyes for a while, trying to curl back up on myself and pray for more sleep.

I don't even have work today!

The sunshine, "beautiful" as it is, might've been manageable were it not for my giant ears as well. They uncontrollably flick even under my covers and catch more sounds within a mile radius than I'd ever need. Sometimes I wonder what it's like to not be able to hear my neighbor from a block down as he yells at his cubs again. For the fourth time this week.

Birds outside also catch my unwanted attention, some sounding cheerful and more like they'd want to keep to themselves, and others sounding like their feathers were all being pulled out one by one. My irritation doesn't really subside; I just end up resigning that unless I go curl back up in the basement, I won't fall asleep again.

I yawn and stretch, keeping my eyes shut a while yet. Somehow, I'd managed to get everything I needed done this week during days I also had work, so now this weekend truly feels like a break. I run through everything in my mind again just to make sure, and can't come up with anything. Sweet!

While I could just stay here in my amazingly comfortable bed, I think I'd rather head out. Staying in one place with little to think about brings back thoughts I don't need. I scratch absently at the fluff on my chest in thought, wondering to myself again, as I had many mornings, when the last time I talked to a guy was.

I have plenty of friends back at college, but during stretches of summer like this, I come back here, to my parent's place. I take on as much work as I can, and basically I lose that social piece. Sure, I meet people at work, but they have the tendency to stay as work-friends. I'm not great about handing out my number or anything, so I can't expect too much.

Meeting new people is hard anyways. I'm content knowing who I do.

...Except that hollow ringing in my chest reminds me that I'm lying to myself again. I sigh.

Despite all the attempts by my parents to make me feel loved and accepted no matter what I try, I've always felt an indescribable loneliness. I can't ever get over the feeling that I'd love to share my life with someone, but it can't just be anyone. I have that special someone in mind. I haven't met him yet.

I open my eyes finally. Maybe I should head to the café. I've always imagined that I'd meet someone there. It sounds dreamy, but that's part of what I like about it. The romantic in me never quits.

Imagine with me:

You're sitting at a two-person table by yourself, nothing but the dimming sunlight outside and a few orange and pink ornate clouds to keep you company. Birds seem almost silent right now, just as reflective as you are as you sip your drink again. An owl or two begin hooting in the distance, the only reminder in the back of your head that you should be off soon.

After a soft, wistful sigh, you look back across the table absently only to find someone new looking back at you. When did he get there?

"Who are you?" you blurt then clamp your muzzle. That was rude. Can't treat mysterious strangers with anything but the utmost politeness. That's what Mom always said anyways.

He doesn't seem to mind though. He chuckles warmly, voice already perfect against your ears...

Does anyone else fantasize like I do? I mean, sure, switch and swap a him for a her, but what could be better than meeting someone in such a nice, quiet space?

It isn't that far from reality. It's fun because of the open-ended uncertainty behind it. It's the ambiguity that makes me frequent that corner café enough to have my favorite drinks (yeah that's right; more than one) memorized by the barista who's always back there.

He's always friendly and might be plenty cute, but one time I saw his wedding ring and that dispelled all of those thoughts. I have to wonder if it's a guy or a girl wearing the matching one...

I shake my head at my own silliness. Those are thoughts better left as they are: scattered and meaningless. It doesn't matter who he's with. He's with someone.

It doesn't matter.

Or it shouldn't. Something always has me bothered whenever I think about relationships. So many of them seem to be a limitation more than a luxury. Someone can mean a lot to you without having to be the only one in your life, right?

No, that sounds slutty. It's hard to word what I mean. If I really did find that one guy, then sure, I'd want to be the only one in his life. But what happens if he's not the only one in mine?

I glance at my phone to find it to already be eight in the morning, but it's still far too early to do much more than laze around. It does explain the cubs already up to enough mischief to be yelled at though. With another yawn, I get out of bed and start my day with little more than a glass of almond milk and a bagel. Maybe I'll hit the café for lunch instead of right before sunset. If I expand my times, maybe I'll see new people.

With that thought, I'm at least pumped enough to not trip over my paws the rest of the morning.

I'd left home around noon, and even though things seemed closer to raining than to being sunny at all, I couldn't complain. The barista greets me with a warm smile and a wink, but it isn't suggestive. What would I have done if it were?

Oh well.

"So which one of your regulars are we going for?" He always makes fun of how frequent a customer I am. I told him I'd go across the street if he ever gave me too much sass.

"What says, 'I have good taste, but I'm not pompous?'" We share a laugh for a while.

He starts making something, but still replies, "So long as you realize that these are all in the same white cup."

I shrug, sniffing out that I'm going end up with a Chai. "People can still smell things, Max."

He gives me a squinty look before clicking the lid on and handing it over to me. "That's three twenty-five, smart-ass." He kept his tone low like he was actually upset, but I can see the gleam in his eyes. He takes the four dollars I give him without a thought, only looking once to see me nod. He can keep it.

I head outside with my drink, acknowledging Max's delayed goodbye with a flick of my tail. I think I'll hang around here for a while and just see what happens. If it rains, even better. I love the rain.

Because of the way the small café is arranged, there's a small balcony you can get to on the second floor. Not many people go up there because most people think it's just a roof access, but it has some of the clearest views of anything you'd want to see on a rooftop anyways: sunsets, meteor showers, even fireworks.

With my drink an absent thought in my mind,

It may not be close to the sunset, and maybe the cloud coverage could be dialed back, but here he is.

My fantasy stranger is here! I try not to let my surprise show too much. Calmly, my cup makes it back to the table. I look into his eyes and almost lose the cool composure I want to keep. "Who are you?"

Muzzle clamp.

He grins wide, but not because he's going to laugh at me. "Hey, foxie."

Nicknames already? Wha-- This is crazy. He must be a serial killer or something. I won't lie and say it doesn't make me feel warm inside though. His eyes tell me he's been looking at me for a while.

But what are the odds that today of all days he'd do something? Today, when I'm beating myself up and loathing my past already?

He chuckles after a while, probably at my still very confused expression. "I'm sorry. I saw you alone here again, and unlike other times, you seemed...down. Thought you could use some company."

I nod, blushing a little already. I can't blow this. He actually came to me! "Couldn't hurt." But wait, what did he say? Again? He has been watching me! I eye him up and down (or at least as much as I can see while he's sitting). There could be worse looking stalkers, I resolve.

He smiles again. "Good. My name's Keith. Like I said, I've seen you around here before. Was today just a little harder?"

There's something odd about the way this is all going. Like, even if he has been watching me, shouldn't there still be something unusual about him just being able to flow into a conversation with me?

Or maybe he's one of those types of people I'm somewhat jealous of. The type that can just do that. I need some sort of underlying base with someone to just talk to them about anything, which makes meeting new people difficult.

Eventually I clear my throat and look into his eyes to answer. But I'm stopped right there. His eyes are very clear. I only make that mentioning because it's like looking into the surface of a mountain lake. If I searched hard enough, I might find the bottom of those blue things... "Ah, well, I just started the morning in a bad way. Past breakups and stuff like that. I just need to move on."

He nods and looks out over the view, finally allowing me to look him over without feeling too bad about it. He has very white fur, but it leads me more into think he's a white wolf as opposed to being arctic. I definitely don't envy the whole hide-shedding thing for every season.

Eventually Keith looks back into my eyes again, looking as though he'd just looked out and found the answer to my problems. "They say the best way to move on is find someone else, you know." I blush harder than I can remember having done in a lot of time recent. I'm sure it's in my eyes. Heck, my tail. And ears. I probably look like I'm in front of a car's headlights. He just chuckles and shrugs. "Sorry. That was direct. I didn't mean it that way. Even just something like this can help an aching heart though."

There's something new in his eyes, and his gaze lingers a little too long at something over my shoulder, but I know it's not because anything is actually there. He refocuses soon enough. "So are you proposing to be a friend, or...?"

He winks at me, and that answers my question enough.

Wow. I just got picked up in a cafe.

No! No I didn't. I'm not going anywhere. I bite my lip as I look into those eyes again. This is exactly why I came here today...

But I wish that didn't sound so desperate. Why can't I say I want to meet a nice guy without wanting to be swept off my feet? And why is he still grinning at me?

Oh yeah. He's just endlessly clever. That's right. "So what inspires someone like you to just talk to someone like me?"

He looks at me in a curious way. "What kind of person am I?"

I shrug. "Curious, surely."

He nods. "Okay. What kind of person are you?"

I think for a while, avoiding his eyes in the meantime. Even without the distraction, it still takes me a while to answer him. "Shy."

He reaches a paw out across the table, pads up. I don't dare take it. Not yet. "Shy is exactly why I'd do this. You seem like you could use some help out of a dark place. Am I wrong?"

I wish I could say he was. That would make things easier, surely. It'd also make it easier to turn this back into being picked up at a cafe. "No. I guess not."

He doesn't say anything for a while, but he does look at me critically all the while. None of his looks trigger the darkest memories of mine. In what feels like a past life, I made some awful decisions.

Or maybe what made it awful was that I couldn't make a decision. In any case, the base of my tail feels fine. Don't ask. You'll find out eventually.

Somehow, maybe with magic or hypnosis or something, he manages to get my paw into his. I didn't believe it until I looked down and saw; believe me. What does this mean?

Maybe it doesn't have to mean anything. Could I believe that myself, though? Doesn't seem very likely.

Something about his honest eyes makes me want to tell him all about why I hate my ex. Why I hate what happened to me. What I constantly think about. I hesitate because it isn't something you can just tell people. I haven't told anyone yet. I've just resolved to remain sad and alone for a little while. That was...a year ago? Brilliant.

"You seem to think pretty hard to yourself. I imagine that's why you come up here."

He's not wrong. At all. "Yeah. I've got plenty to think about, I guess."

"Is it always the same stuff?"

I shake my head. "Rarely. But sometimes I think about my past in a different light. 'What if I hadn't said what I said?' Stuff like that."

He squeezes my paw, and I look back into those clear eyes. I wish I could be as reassured as he's clearly trying to make me feel, but right now the only thing really going through my mind is how attractive he is. It doesn't really solve my problems by any means.

---

Doesn't really solve my problems... I sigh, still staring at my phone. It'd be easy to call him and say we could work past what he'd told me. But I don't know how many more times I can say that.

I already made the allowance for Stirling, and that hurt. Felt like I wasn't really the only other person in the relationship, like some other third person was hanging out there sucking up attention and feelings that I wish I could have instead. Unfortunately, I don't even care how selfish that sounds. I deserve something.

And instead, right now, I'm getting everything I can't really deal with. He's with someone else. He doesn't love me. He's cheated. I can't look over all of this stuff, because I've been here before.

That boyfriend from my past, the one I keep mentioning in passing? This is...hard to talk about. Haven't with anyone yet. He was much more about his own pleasure, and one of those things happened to include pain. For me, mostly.

It wasn't anything serious at first. Pinching, biting, stuff like that. Even a yank on the tail I can look past. It probably got me going just like it made him grin to hear my reactions. But it got worse. Much much worse.

Lots of times, he'd experimented to see what he could do to me to make me clench on him harder, especially when he'd already knotted me. That coyote scarred me in a way I've never shown anyone or ever talked about. Again, he'd started with bites and yanks and little things, but then came the knife.

Even tied up, I tried to say no to him. Tried to say it was too far. He didn't really like that answer, or the fact that I was trying to deny him further with my tail. So he damn-near cut it off.

He didn't know that I'd learned how to get myself out of cuffs just in case something like this would happen, so that's what I did. I don't remember ever having screamed so loudly or kicked someone so hard, or having cried so hard I couldn't call an ambulance. It took a neighbor hearing me shriek to call the police.

I never followed up to find out what happened to that coyote. I don't think anyone could fault me that.

The scar still aches sometimes, and I'm frequently afraid of catching my tail in something and ripping it the rest of the way off. It probably isn't any worse attached, but an incredibly ugly scar circles most of its base in a furless freakshow. To be honest, that morning was probably just as hard as any other, and only because it's hard to ignore something like the base of your tail when you sleep on your back.

I just thank the heavens it never did actually come off. I'm still afraid of losing control now. I don't even like the look of handcuffs anymore, and I certainly don't entertain the prospect of being held down to do anything ever again. The fear there is enough to make me break down most likely.

I pick up the phone and dial Keith's number.