[Lena]
The streets had gotten even emptier, the blackout keeping everyone locked inside and rushing people to get home asap. But as we walked, I realized I didn't really mind the dark anymore.
We walked without talking for quite a while, the silence felt pretty comfortable now. I immediately noticed how our footsteps fell into the exact same, steady rhythm on the pavement; he probably didn't.
Then, I spotted a lone ice cream cart parked under a dead streetlamp, its small battery light glowing.
I stopped so abruptly he nearly plowed right into my back.
"No," he said, anticipating me.
I followed the cart with my eyes. "No, what?"
"Ice cream?" he looked at me with furrowed brows, "at this hour?"
"Especially at this hour," I nodded.
"Lena."
For the first time he actually got my name right, but I couldn't concentrate. I was already halfway across the concrete.
"Come on!" I called back, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along. He followed, of course.
At this point, it didn't seem like he had much of a choice.
I ordered my usual double scoop berry flavour. The vendor handed it over, and I turned to him. He immediately shook his head. "I don't want any."
"Okay. More for me."
I took a big bite, then another, enjoying the cold shock of it. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him staring intently at the cone.
I raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You want some?" I plunged the cone forward, right under his nose.
"No."
"You really look like you do."
"I reallydon't."
"Okay, fine, if you don't want to," I said, starting to pull it back.
He let out a long sigh. "Fine. Give me some, I guess."
I beamed. "Thought you didn't want any?"
"Changed my mind. There's no harm trying."
As I held it out steadily, he leaned over and took a quick bite.
"Good?" I asked.
He chewed, then nodded slowly. "Sort of."
I smiled, taking a bite myself. "I told you. It's amazing." Pausing, I added "You can get yours you know," I mumbled.
He shrugged. "It wasn't that good."
"You have terrible taste, you know?"
Eventually, we found a quiet stone bench set back from the path. I sat down and pulled out a small, green glass bottle.
He looked at it and immediately flatly said, "You drink?"
Staring at him I asked, "You think only you can?"
"No I mean you—"
"I?"
"Nevermind."
I pouted. "You're so boring."
He didn't say anything to that, but after a pause he said, "You literally walked straight into a lamppost a while back, and then into two fire hydrants."
"That lamppost was stupid," I argued, crossing my arms. "And so were the fire hydrants. They were in my way, I wasn't."
He burst out laughing. Somehow it felt like a real laugh. Something I didn't think he could quite do honestly.
I pointed at him, "Aha! You're laughing. Again"
"You're completely ridiculous."
"And you're smiling, too."
This time he actually looked away, but I saw the corner of his mouth twitching upward.
"Its not so bad to express yourself you know?" I twisted the cap off. "The colour of these bottles are so bad,"
"Why?" He asked, genuinely curious, or surprised I couldn't tell."I don't know, they are just . . . ugly. They could design this so much better. Such horrible colour design."
"Well they should hire you, bet you'd make their business blow up."
"I don't know if they can afford me though," The sharp liquid burned pleasantly down my throat.
As I was taking sips, he reached for the bottle and grabbed it away, "Hey!"
He spun the plastic cap back on, "You can't have more."
I pouted. "Why," leaning back against the cold stone bench.
"It's not right for you to drink so much when you are alone."
As I leaned back, the world took a slight, dizzy tilt. I blinked hard, trying to clear my vision.
He noticed somehow, "Lena."
"I'm fine."
"You've said that many times tonight."
"And I was."
"Right before you walked into a lamppost and—"
"Again with the lamppost!" I complained, though my voice was getting a bit softer, the alcohol and the long night finally catching up to me.
He smiled slightly, my vision gradually growing a little blurry around the edges. Then, the warmth faded, and the smile slowly slipped from my face.
I looked down at my hands resting in my lap, the silence turning heavy again. "Do you ever . . ." I started, then bit my lip and stopped.
He didn't push. He just sat there right beside me, close enough that I could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing against the quiet city.
I forced myself to look up, meeting his eyes through the shadows. "Do you ever wish you could just stay somewhere forever?"
His expression completely changed.
"Somewhere?" he repeated, the word quiet on his tongue.
"Anywhere," I said, looking out toward the dark street. "You know, perhaps somewhere nobody expects anything from you."
He was quiet for a long beat. Then he said, "Yeah. I guess."
Just that.
My fingers tightened around the hem of my dress. "Where would it be?"
He looked ahead into the blacked-out intersection. "I don't know. Perhaps a place like that doesn't even exist."
I smiled faintly. "That's hella depressing."
"Probably."
I looked at him. His eyes were fixed somewhere far away.
Leaning a little, I nudged my shoulder against his.
His eyes snapped back to me. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You're weird, Lixa."
"I know." I left my shoulder resting there. "Also it's Lena, why do you keep getting it wrong."
After a second, he didn't pull away. His shoulder stayed pressed against mine, too. Neither of us moved for a while.
Then he said quietly, "You should go home."
Feeling the cold breeze hit me I replied, "I don't wanna."
He glanced back at me. "Why?"
"I don't know." I rested my head against the back of the stone bench. "Just wanna stay here."
The small bottle of soju remained between us on the bench, untouched. We stayed right there in the dark until my eyes started burning from exhaustion.
"You're way too tired."
"Nope."
"It shows."
"I can stay awake," I insisted, blinking hard.
"No one asked you to."
I smiled, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. "You do this for everyone you yell at, or am I special?"
He looked back at me. For a second, I thought he wouldn't answer at all.
Then, "I don't know." His eyes stayed locked on mine. Something flickered deep in his gaze—something raw and vulnerable that I couldn't quite name. "You're annoying," he muttered.
I smiled. "That isn't an answer."
Pushing me off, he stood up, brushing off his jacket. "Come on."
"Where?"
"We're going to drop you to your house."
"But the night is still so young," I groaned.
"Sure ma'am, but not for me. I need to get you home."
I tried to stand up, but the moment my feet hit the pavement, the ground took a sudden, violent shift beneath me. I stumbled forward, my hand instantly grabbing him.
His hand closed around my elbow, steadying me against his side.
"Okay," he said, looking down at me as I found my footing. "I take it back."
"What?"
"You truly aren't fine."
I frowned, trying to pull myself together. "Of course I am."
"You're literally leaning all your imaginery weight on me."
I looked down.
I was.
I straightened up immediately, clearing my throat. "I was just . . ."
Keeping a total poker face he asked, "Testing gravity?"
"Yes. Precisely."
"Very scientific I must say."
We walked toward his car parked down the block. This time, without saying a word, he adjusted his stride to match mine.
Pretty Slow.
Patient.
Completely unprompted.
As I slid into the passenger seat, I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window right away.
The inside of the car smelled faintly like dark coffee and something clean, like cedar I guess. He started the engine, and a soft, low melody filled the quiet cabin.
The dark city began to move past the window. Dark. Then a flash of an emergency light. Then dark again. My eyelids grew heavier with every block.
"You know," I murmured into the glass.
He glanced over at me from the steering wheel. "What?"
"I still think you're a pretty good candidate."
"For?"
"A friend." I smiled sleepily. "A slightly ridiculous but amazing one."
He didn't say anything to that.
"You're supposed to say thank you," I prompted.
A small smile touched his lips. "Thank you."
"See?" I mumbled, my voice trailing off.
"See what?"
"You're capable of being a truly nice man."
"Go to sleep, Lena."
"I knew it."
"Knew what?"
"You're nice."
He didn't answer.
I closed my eyes, letting the rhythmic motion of the car rock me deeper into the seat. The car moved smoothly through the sleeping city.
At some point, the power grid must have kicked back in. One street at a time, the lights came back. Dark windows suddenly flickered awake with golden light. Neon signs blinked to life on the storefronts. The whole city began to glow again, washing over the dashboard.
But I kept my eyes tightly shut. I realized I liked it better in the dark.
The car was almost silent, save for the occasional, soft tap-tap of his fingers against the steering wheel before going perfectly still. The car slowed down for a turn, then sped up gently.
He was driving carefully.
Way too carefully.
I smiled against the window pane. I wanted to say something out loud to tease him about it, but I couldn't quite articulate the words.
The last thing I felt was the car AC blowing warm air around my ankles. The last thing I heard was his voice, dropping to a low, rough whisper against the hum of the engine—something that sounded entirely like, "…live?"
And somewhere between one red light and the next, I dozed off before I could grasp his question or give him an answer.