Chapter Text
Mostly comfortable silence filled the space between them while they got everything out to wash, cut up, and microwave. Xiao insisted on at least seasoning and sauteeing the vegetables. After all, there was no point in eating anything if there wasn’t any flavor. Yeah, that was why. Not his need to delay the inevitable.
Eventually, gifts would be exchanged and that window of opportunity would present itself. He’d air out his feelings, finally putting them into words, and have to face the winds of change head-on. But the words didn’t come easy— not in any clean way.
Xiao had heard plenty of confessions before— had been on the receiving end of that outburst of emotions that poured straight out, splashing one in the face to leave them shellshocked.
He didn’t want to do that. Didn’t want to bombard Venti out of the blue. Just wanted a conversation, something easy to swallow, even if he felt like he was drowning the whole time. However, for that to happen he needed time alone to think— which he hadn’t had the opportunity.
Even then, mindlessly sautéing the vegetables, Venti stood beside him, drawn closer each time Xiao scooted away even a little, like a magnet.
It would be cute if Xiao didn’t lose track of every thought in his head when Venti got close enough to touch him, bumping shoulders with him and placing a hand on his back or shoulder as he reached for different utensils and containers… Each time, Xiao melted in his skin while trying to maintain his cool and collected front.
His last straw lay in Venti’s head resting on his back while he plated the vegetables. He breathed deeply, putting down the spoon and skillet to turn on the other, met by eyes round with concern.
“I can bring the food to the couch. You should go sit,” Xiao suggested quickly, gripping the counter’s edge behind him.
For a moment, Venti only stood there, staring as if taken aback before taking a step back. Uttering a small, “Ok,” which Xiao took as a go-ahead to turn back away just in time for his expression to crack, plating the last of the food.
“It shouldn’t take too much longer.”
Hearing Venti leave the kitchen and plop on the couch, Xiao secretly wished there was a wall there for him to hide behind. The food was ready, the stage was set, and as usual, he was the only reluctant actor in the play.
Might as well get it over with.
He picked up both plates and glared softly at the water glasses. He should have bought wine; though that was why he was here so maybe not.
Approaching the couch, he observed Venti curled up on one end, feet pretzeled into the cushion, barely paying attention to the TV as Xiao set everything down. His eyes penetrated Xiao’s skin like little bullets making him stiffen.
Breathe, he reminded himself, doing so— shallow at best —as he sat down with his hands folded in his lap.
To his surprise, as soon as he did, Venti unfurled himself, rising from the couch to scamper behind the couch and leaving Xiao to follow his movements in confusion. Only when he returned with the bag did Xiao remember its existence— too in his own head to register that Venti had something for him.
He then remembered his own bag was somewhere else, ready to stand when he was stopped by Venti’s adamant refusal of, “No, no! Me first!” Smiling big and bringing a chuckle out of Xiao that sat him straight back down.
Venti took a deep breath of his own, stretching his hands out on either side, loosening up like they were about to run a race. His hands clapped together without sound and his determined gaze shot through Xiao, making him shiver.
"Ok, so— First, we should talk. Because I know I wasn’t acting like myself and caused you a lot of trouble. Yesterday was… hard for me. Harder than I’d expected. So, thanks for being there for me and I’m sorry for acting weird."
Xiao shook his head. "No need. We always help each other. That's what friends are for, right? Besides, you weren’t the only one who needed help yesterday…" The sting that 'friends' left on his tongue was getting harder to ignore.
"I guess you're right," Venti said. "We're good to each other that way. You've always been right there when I need you. I guess I'm just sorry that I dragged you down with me. Doesn’t change that I’m glad you were here and wouldn’t have it any other way." Teal eyes gazed over affectionately soft and sweet, sending Xiao's mind reeling.
Were they there to say the same thing?
His hope nearly jumped from his throat. "You didn't drag me down."
Venti rolled his eyes with a puff of air from his nose. "Yeah, because getting you drunk and making you out yourself must have been super uplifting."
Xiao boiled in his skin, having forgotten that part. He did his best not to let it show, but the silence that stretched between them was all too telling, as was Venti’s need to break it with his next words.
"Why didn't you tell me you were gay, Xiao?" he asked. A question so easily answerable then, but Xiao still felt the need to hide from it, cheating toward the coffee table in hopes that its blank reaction would give him the courage to speak.
It was a stupid lie. In hindsight, he’d never made it very believable. He just took advantage of Venti’s trust in hopes that he wouldn’t see the boy who loved him cowering under that thin blanket.
“There was just… safety in being in the closet. Even just a little bit. I wanted to hold onto that.”
It wasn’t the full truth, but it struck a chord within Xiao just the same. The shame bristled him, anticipating Venti’s upset. Not for being gay, of course, but for being ashamed of one of the things Venti found so much pride in.
It shouldn’t have surprised him that it never came. Instead, Venti offered a hand placed on his knee, gentle circles painted there, and a soft, “Ok.”
“...Ok?”
“It makes sense. You were afraid. That’s the reason anyone hides anything. I’m proud of you for opening up about it. I’m sorry that you had to tell me the way you did, but I hope you know that I always want to be a safe space for you to be who you are.” The corner of his eyes crinkled with his smile.
And how could Xiao not love him? How could he fight with himself in his core every day not to kiss him when his words were this bright and saccharine? Even when Xiao fears the might of Venti’s heart, that is also where he finds the most irreplaceable shelter from harm’s way. If he weren’t so choked up at that moment, he’d have told him so.
The shuffling of that plastic bag brought his attention back Venti’s way, where he found it sat closer to him.
“I wanted to get you something. Not only as an apology but also to let you know how much you mean to me. I don’t want something like what happened last night to get in between us again,” Venti noted.
Xiao hesitantly brought the tiny bag closer, parting the plastic to reach inside and pull out an even tinier box. His heart somersaulted at the velvety thing, turning it in his hand, and he looked back up at Venti, incredulously. He was also scanning the box with a nervous bite to his lip, cheeks colored.
“I-It’s not a ring! I swear!” He quickly negated, allowing Xiao’s heart to calm, no matter how much it still sank.
“Right.”
“Yeah, sorry— I thought it looked too similar and asked for a different box, but they only had that— And I thought putting it in a grocery bag would help but—!” He rambled, turning his wrist at the box. “Just open it. I’m sure you’ll like it!”
Taking his word for it, Xiao flipped the lid. However, upon laying eyes on the contents he snapped the box shut. He looked to Venti with his eyes wide and jaw dropped.
“Venti!"
“What?”
“What is this!? ”
“You don’t like it?”
“How much did this cost!?”
His slightly cherubic face scrunched up, thinking it over. “A lot less than if I’d gotten one…” His contemplating face curled into a grin. “But I got three~ ”
“This is too much.”
“Nuh-uh! My big boy money, my big boy choice!”
Xiao flipped the lid again, staring into the box as if the pristine-looking gold necklace would have disappeared after blinking at it several times. Its design was intricate, with a deep, handcrafted mapping for the wings, so much so you could mistake the bird for a butterfly from far away. There were tiny, faux jewels at the tips while still maintaining a classy and simplistic appearance. A practical, Liyuean necklace.
Venti ran his fingers across the top of the box, catching Xiao’s attention. “Speechless are we? I hope that means you like it.”
Xiao shook his head. Like was an understatement. “It’s beautiful… I don’t really know what to say…”
“Mm… How about ‘Venti, you’re so awesome for getting me this,’ and ‘I’ll never take it off?’” The older man laughed at his own audacity before waving it off as Xiao gave him a wary look. “Or put it on. Wearing it would be a great start.”
The box slipped easily from Xiao’s hand to Venti’s as he collected the necklace to unclasp it. "Turn around and let me help you…”
Xiao turned away from Venti, feeling the couch dip behind him. The necklace lowered into vision like a trophy, the cool metal warming quickly as it sat on his skin and made itself at home.
Everything felt too good to be true. It was clear they’d both wanted to make up, and things were already going well without him having given his gift, yet. Had he really been worrying for nothing?
He turned back to Venti, finding him waiting expectantly— those shimmering sea-green eyes pursuing him and making his ears burn. Venti lightheartedly breathed ‘Beautiful’ while looking at him, practically casting a stage light on Xiao the way it made him melt.
“Now we match!” Venti celebrated, reaching in his collar to pull out his own well-hidden jewelry. The same necklace of gold and gems, but a different, smaller bird— a dove. Simpler than the majestic phoenix-like pendant on himself, but still extremely pretty adorning the whimsical man’s neck.
Xiao knew there was a third— probably for Carmen —but knowing the gift connected them gave him peace of mind he didn’t know he needed after the other night. It put a smile on his face as he glanced at his own gift bag.
“Can I give you mine now?”
Venti gave a wandering hum while tapping his chin. “I guess so… Oh! Gimme your phone first, though.”
Slipping his phone out of his pocket, only mildly wary, Xiao holds it out. “What for?”
“I’ve got something else to show you! I had to give you the gift you’d like before the one you’ll definitely hate,” Venti admitted mischievously before taking the phone, getting into it with ease as Xiao grabbed the bag and came back to sit next to him.
A hand was promptly placed over his face, warmth radiating in each place Venti’s fingers smoosh his features in.
“Don’t look!”
“... You have my phone.”
“Yeah, yeah, give it a second. Almost… There!” Venti cheered, taking his hand back to smugly toss Xiao’s phone back to him.
In a panic, Xiao dropped the bag to catch it, giving the adorable goblin the opportunity he’d been waiting for to snatch the bag up himself and unravel it. Xiao had half a mind to scold him for his recklessness but stopped short seeing the mischief fall from Venti’s face as he gazed upon the gift in question. He took in a breath and flapped the gift in his hand quickly, bouncing in his seat.
Seeing tears build in his eyes and his jaw tighten, Xiao worried he may have messed up. It wasn’t much compared to the necklace. But Venti’s wobbling eyes told a different story as they looked at him with the sketchpad that nearly took up Venti’s whole chest held tightly in his arms.
His voice was thick with tears when he asked, “How did you know? ”
“You seemed interested in getting back into painting. I thought I’d help you make a decision. Besides, I don’t think the best place to hide your sketches is our closet if you didn’t want me to find out.”
“I wasn’t trying to hide it from you or anything…” Venti mumbled a little, fiddling with the metal spiral of the book as if plucking guitar strings.
Xiao hummed. “Did I get the right kind? I um… asked for some help and the pages are supposed to be good for ‘opaque’ and water coloring…?” He winced, clearly ill-versed in the art department and doing a bad job of hiding it. Even so, as the words fit foreign and strangely in his mouth, Venti’s eyes only grew softer.
“It’s perfect.” Venti hugged his gift close. “Thank you.”
It felt so much lighter in the room, all of that tension gone, sucked into this floaty hopefulness between them. It was then that Xiao realized the plan worked. They were able to reconcile and the gift exchange had put him at ease, his nerve feeling easier to gather. He’d have to thank everyone later.
"Venti… There's something I want to tell you.” This was the perfect moment. He’d lay his heart bare the way he’d only imagined deep within the crevices of his mind. “I've been meaning to for a while, sort of.
For a long time now…" he couldn’t help tiptoeing around his words, suddenly empathizing more with those who'd been in his shoes before.
Venti's eyes watched him, looking for something as that smile faded to concerned neutrality.
"I—" A loud chirp from his phone interrupted him, vibrating aggressively in his hand, and making both of them jump. The screen lit up to show a notification from an app he didn’t recognize.
He went to turn it off and shove it somewhere for later, but Venti chimed in matter-of-fact, "Oh! That must mean you got a match!"
"A… what?"
Venti reached over to tap the notification. "A match! It's my other gift. Open the app, you’ll see what I mean.”
Xiao’s thumb hovered over the notif hesitantly. All of a sudden, he got a bad feeling that sat in his throat, sturdy and solid, and it was like wearing a tie way too tight right before an interview.
Maybe it was on-set anxiety? He’d have to humor Venti quickly, then get what he had to say off of his chest before he lost his nerve again.
Clicking the notification, he watched the screen alternate to a mostly white platform before a large, pixelated ball of flame took up the screen. The word ‘Cindr’ wrote itself underneath in a stereotypically romantic, red cursive before the rest of the app launched.
A random person’s selfie popped up on the screen along with tutorial arrows that blinked at him to ‘Swipe Left’ with an ‘X’ or ‘Swipe Right’ with a heart. Xiao knew exactly what this was. Still, he willfully denied the implication seeded and sprouting, as he looked to Venti with confusion.
“Why did you download this?” He could hear the hurt in his own voice. His mind ran fast at the first sign of trouble, but his heart couldn't take it and asked anyway. He didn’t want the answer. He wanted to rewind the clock— wanted to be faster than this sinking feeling that began to cloud his senses.
Instead, time moved without him as Venti explained how to use the app, what it was for, the features… His rapid speech and enthusiastic descriptions of Xiao’s ‘waiting profile’ threw him off kilter, sending Xiao’s heart tumbling low into his stomach with the weight of his words.
All of a sudden, his ears were ringing, and the shadows that normally only tormented him in the dark began to mock him vividly for feeling safe before— for feeling valued . He couldn’t hear Venti’s voice. He couldn’t see the candid photos of him that Venti had put on his profile. He couldn’t feel anything except the pounding of his heart in his chest, cracking the muscle away from itself with haste.
Then, just as suddenly, there was nothing to hear. Warmth greeted his wrist and a face peered into view. Curious sea green and lips that speak, “You ok?”
Xiao’s lips twitched heavily on his face. “I’m fine.” His skin burned with how easy it was to slip back into the mold of someone else— someone he should have remained — Venti’s friend— his best friend.
Nothing more, nothing less.
“Really?” Venti blinked. “You look like you spaced out.”
“I was just trying to figure out why this of all things.”
“Well…” Venti sits up, hands and sketchbook in his lap. “We’ve spent almost every day together, and as long as I’ve known you, you haven’t had someone special in your life. So, I thought I’d use my social media savvy and help you out.”
Was there more to it than what Venti was saying? Xiao couldn't tell. His vision blurred with sad blue hues as he followed Venti’s logic. They seemed to have realized the same thing, but come to two very different conclusions.
Venti continued with a hand on his. “You’re my best friend and I want you to be happy, Xiao. I don’t ever want that to be a question. So, I think it’s about time I started acting like it.”
Xiao tried to hold his hand in return and understand his well-meaning words for what they were instead of the cold stone of rejection that pitted his gut. You make me happy! He wanted to scream— wanted it to seep into the walls and thicken the insolation. But he bit his tongue through tears beginning to prick his eyes because that was the last thing he’d want to do to Venti— to overshadow his resolve with his own desire.
It was painfully obvious that though they’d realized the same thing— that they’d been attached at the hip for years— what separated them was that Xiao wanted Venti, had always wanted him, but Venti had never seen him in that light.
“You…” His throat tightened and Xiao begged his senses not to give him away. He forced a laugh and hid his face with his hand discreetly. “This is insane! Honestly! Who gets someone a Cindr profile?! This is too much…” His humorous tone was acrid on his tongue and strained his vocal cords, making him sound strange— at least to his own ears.
Venti’s defensive whine gave him the impression he didn’t notice and if he did, he hid it well. “I know it seems like a gag gift, but I really put a lot of thought into it! I’ve been meaning to give it to you for a while now. It just seemed like now was a good time to—!”
“Thank you,” Xiao cut him off, unable to bear any more, numbing his heart into a shell of acceptance. He took a deep breath, but it only seemed to urge his tears to bubble to the surface. He pulled Venti close, holding his head underneath his chin where he could no longer see him, shutting his eyes and letting the pain run down his cheeks and into Venti’s hair. There he briefly kissed the strands— a kiss saturated with his feelings as he vowed to leave the last of them in that moment.
“I’ll be sure to use the app. I can’t promise anything will come of it, but I won't let it go to waste.”
Venti sighed, seeming to relax and wrapping his arms around Xiao to hug him back. “That’s all I’m asking for. You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, but you should still enjoy yourself. Oh!” His voice pitches with excitement. “And if you ever need Carmen and I to ‘take a walk’ or ‘find somewhere to go for the night’ you can just let us know so that you can have the apartment—!”
Xiao cleared his throat. “The food is getting cold.”
“Oh fuck, sorry.”
Venti automatically slipped away from him, becoming enamored with his plate, shoveling the food down like this meal would be his last. While he did so, Xiao closed the app and pocketed the phone, discreetly wiping his tears as he dreaded the next time he’d open it.
Numbness greeted him as he tried to process what happened. It was too much, he couldn’t even wrap his mind around it. Maybe it was better that way. He could battle his emotions later, not in front of Venti, possibly in the shower where the water would hopefully scald him hotter than the useless passion left inside him.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he picked up the TV remote and clicked away. “Since there’s time, we should watch a movie or something. Are there any good ones you’ve heard of recently?”
“Yeah… Didn’t you have something you wanted to tell me though?”
He didn’t count on Venti remembering that. “Um… not really.”
“Oh come on, it sounded important. What’s up? You can tell me.”
No. No, he couldn’t. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, glancing over at Venti who turned toward him.
He couldn’t tell him. Not that. But he’d have to tell him something. He couldn’t make Venti feel unworthy of his trust again so soon. His lips moved on their own in a panic.
“I… Uh, I was hoping you would help me…” Then it came to him, “The play! I need help practicing my lines— If you have time?” His heart jumped in his throat, hoping Venti would believe his quick lie.
“Is that so?” His braids tilted unevenly with his head.
“Yeah, I thought it would be easier if it was with you.”
Venti hummed with a grin before turning his nose up boastfully. “I’m flattered. I am a busy man though, so you’ll have to make it worth my while.”
“Seeing me make a fool of myself isn’t price enough to pay?”
“Nope~” Venti sing-songed playfully. “How about since you got me such a nice sketchbook you model for me.”
Xiao folded his arms. “You would have drawn me anyway, more than likely.”
“Probably would have helped you anyway, too.” He smirked, holding out a hand. “Deal?”
Easily, Xiao reached over and shook on it, because no matter what he still couldn’t say no to Venti— didn’t want to say no. “Deal.”
“Good. Now hand me that remote,” he said, already moving to lay his head down on Xiao’s thigh, eyes fixed on the TV. “I can pull up a movie for you to draw some inspiration from, so watch carefully because training starts now!”
Xiao rolled his eyes and handed him the remote, silently humoring him. They watch the movie the rest of the night, Xiao brushing through Venti’s hair and the latter falling asleep halfway through pointing out some acting techniques used on screen.
Xiao’s other hand toyed with the necklace’s pendant, absentmindedly looking at the screen but not getting much, all the colors fading and merging around him. Though he felt that heavy numbness he still found himself grateful to still stroke soft hair and watch movies on the couch comfortably.
He’d avoided the worst possible outcome, even if the necklace left him feeling platonically branded. At least he still had Venti’s friendship and no longer had to wonder how Venti felt.
Xiao wouldn’t stop loving him, he knew himself better than that. Despite that, he cherished their friendship and would put his feelings aside to keep him in his life just like he had before— no matter how much effort it would take to bottle it all back up again.
Maybe he should start looking into nearby apartments just in case he couldn’t. The thought stung his heart.
He’d think about it more later. Until then, he’d enjoy what he had, bury his regrets, and try not to get jumped by all of his friends the next day.
Earlier that day…
Rechecking the bag of goodies he’d brought, Venti stood in front of the door to Scara’s apartment, the uniform beige of it staring back at him as he prepared himself to knock. Scaramouche had already proven to be ill-tempered with a lack of patience, but he at least seemed persuadable, even if he detested the one speaking.
Lucky for Venti, Scaramouche seemed to have warmed up to him just a little after their late-night rendezvous, knee-deep in garbage. As far as brownie points were concerned, he was glad he wasn’t starting at zero, and maybe the brownie, among other things, he brought could earn him more
Reinvigorated he took a deep breath and gave the door a rap, making a tune and hoping for the best as he waited.
The noise echoed in the still, empty hall and Venti couldn’t help the way his spirits waned as the tune faded without notice, even more so when no one answered the door. He blinked, shifting awkwardly to look both ways.
He knocked again, confused as he then checked his phone where Scara had told him it was fine for him to come over. The time was right, the address was the same, and it was too early for anything to really be open for him to have left. Maybe he’d caught him at a bad time after all…
______
Meanwhile…
Scara’s eyes twitched, unopening as knocking rang through the sparingly furnished living room of his apartment. The tune of it drew him fast away from a pleasant recurring dream where everything seemed right and the nightmares of the world could never visit. Everything he wanted or could want was right there in the palm of his hand, well deserved.
He rolled further into the couch, away from the sound, desperate to hold onto the scene, but a smack of his dry lips and the familiar, sandy way his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth and his hand batting at his lips onto to find a half-smoked cigarette shattered the dream and promptly forced him back to the waking world. His eyes opened mournfully as he took the useless stick between his fingers and arched his arm without moving his head to snuff it out in the ashtray, twisting it into the other remnants.
It was only a dream. He thought to himself. It always is.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
He rolled his eyes over to the door and groaned to himself, realizing that not only did he come in last night and immediately crash on the couch again , but now he had to put on a face and answer the door.
He checked his phone. The day was already shot and it was barely eight o’clock.
Quickly making sure that he was wearing pants and didn’t smell too much like filth, he headed to the door to wearily checked the peephole. He wasn’t expecting visitors or a package. Hopefully, whatever it was wouldn’t take long to deal with.
On the other side of the door, he saw some guy with a bucket hat and familiar twin braids looking down the hall on either side, carrying something.
Scara’s brow furrowed. What was his name again? Something foreign on his tongue. Whatever it was, it sounded as childish as he looked.
More importantly, what was he doing at his door?
He sighed heavily and cracked the door ready to shoo him away. Except when he opened the door it looked like the other was preparing to leave on his own and paused in his step upon hearing the door finally open. When he turned, Scara saw any trace of dejection melt off his face. Scara flinched at just how bright his face became as his neighbor’s hopes soared due to his folly. He shouldn’t have opened it.
And it seemed his brain would do him no favors in fixing it. Instead of immediately telling him off, Scara frowned silently making his displeasure apparent but his stoicism only seemed to prove enough invitation for the other to speak.
“Good morning!”
“Keep your voice down, would you? Unless you’re trying to wake the whole building?” He sighed, opening up the door a little wider to lean out of it. “What is it you want?”
“Hm? You said I could come over. I texted you, remember?”
“...Right,” he didn’t remember; but he wouldn’t be made a fool of by stating so. “I’m only asking what you’re doing with all of this you’ve got.” He gestured to the bag of snacks gathered in his arms, some even looked to be from a nearby bakery.
“Oh! I wanted to thank you for your hard work yesterday.”
“Rewarding me with a heart attack? I’ll pass.” Pulling out his phone he checked his message history, finding it hard to believe he approved this interaction himself.
Finding the last reply he squinted at the unknown number, clicking his tongue at the brief exchange.
‘Heyyyy! It's Venti your neighbor! Can I drop by tomorrow? I think I might have a lead on the garbage piler!’
And his response?
‘Whatever.’
Refraining from banging his head on the wall he thought back to when he saw the message. He was stressed, sore, and over-stimulated from digging through other people’s unspeakable— ready to pass out. He thought he was blowing Venti off, but even he could see where someone this bubbly would see it as an invitation.
“So, what’s the lead you were on about?” He questioned, getting straight to the point.
Venti shuffled in place in a very opposite manner. “Well, all in good time. I was hoping we could sit and talk, maybe eat a little bit while we—”
Scara held up a hand no longer interested in what he knew to be a waste of time. “If you don’t know anything then there’s nothing for us to talk about. In the future, I’d appreciate it if you’d just text me instead. We don’t have to do this—” he gestured between the two of them.
Venti tilted his head, seeming amused. “Why not? I think it’s a lot easier to make friends in person.”
“Friends?”
“Yeah!”
“What makes you think that I want to make friends, let alone with you?” He folded his arms now, sizing Venti up as the obnoxious man took a moment to think. The first time he’d laid eyes on him he was wasted, reeking of alcohol, and lacked any awareness of personal space. The only good he’d done was help him fix a shared problem.
Venti tapped his chin, probably knowing the same, that he had nothing to offer. Seeing that, Scara began leaning back inside, ready to shut the door, but Venti suddenly spoke up, fingertips pressing against the door to stall his retreat.
“I’m not here to force friendship on you, I wouldn’t want to do that, but… Last night, you were ranting and raving for hours and I don’t know if it was the heat of the moment but you seemed to feel better after.”
“What’s your point?”
“Did it make you feel better?”
Scara stopped in his tracks, thinking vaguely about it. He hadn’t felt worse after so that was a start. He’d been pissed walking from door to door trying to get answers out of lazy and entitled tenets who couldn’t give a damn about how the place smelled or not, expecting someone to fix the problem for them. Then, Venti helped…
Hand falling from the door, he tucked it under his arm in front of his chest, his eyes flicking away from his persistent neighbor.
“Anything could have been better than how I was feeling— and anyone would feel satisfied after a laborious task, even for a moment.”
“That’s true. Would you have been satisfied if you had to do it alone?”
“Probably not,” he sighed, the sound echoing around them, yet Venti stood unaffected, still just as eager. So, he asked, “You don’t seem the type to lack friends, so why bother me for conversation? What do you want?”
“Hm, I guess I just thought we both might need to talk. And it wasn’t a long walk. So I thought I'd give you a knock.” Scara realized with abject horror that Venti was rhyming as a cheerful smile played on his lips. “Since our garbage troubles have ceased, I thought I’d give you something at least.”
“What’s with the rhyming…?” Scara’s eyes traced back down to the snacks in his arms. “I don’t like sweets or sticky things.”
“I’ve got chips, too, and there’s pigs in a blanket, I think…” He fumbles around for the packaging before holding it out. “The only thing I neglected was something to drink.”
The warm, salty-sweet aroma wafted toward him, making his stomach turn with longing. He hadn’t quite eaten since lunchtime the other day, hunger staved off by the stodginess of his tobacco.
Fuck it, I don’t mind using someone as a meal ticket. He finally decided, snatching the package and taking one out. His eyes closed with satisfaction as he took a bite and that warmth entered him and the slight spiciness of the meat pleasantly bit his tongue.
“Fine. 1 hour. We can talk while I eat. Do you want tea or water?” He turned on his heels, already headed for the kettle by his stove.
He heard Venti drop a few things behind him, picking them up quickly to come in. “Whatever is fine! Thank you.”
‘Thank you.’ Too sincere, too hopeful. It made Scara’s teeth grind together with a filminess that made them squeak as if he’d taken a donut instead.
---------
Scara, no stranger to regret, had learned to move through instead of allowing it to consume him. Even so, whenever it reared its ugly head around the corner, it still proved to be an eye-sore he recoiled at.
And there in his very living room, it snaked around the corner as he sat trapped in a lively, one-sided conversation while the other person babbled about their problems. He could hardly hang onto one sentence said before another began on a completely separate train of thought.
He flitted from story to story about his friends, names flying over Scara’s head one after the other like wayward darts. He was right to think Venti had no place here with him. However, one name kept hitting its mark time and time again as though each story was slowly crafting one that Venti hadn’t shared; not that Scara cared to listen.
“Who’s Xiao?”
Venti’s chin lifted abruptly at the name, blinking rapidly as if stunned to hear Scara speak at all. It didn’t last long, his smile resumed its position as he took out his phone to show Scara a picture.
“He’s a lot of things, but you might recognize him as my roommate,” Venti enlightened him, while he barely leaned forward to see the man in question. The picture seemed to candidly capture a man with spiky dark green hair, a few dark turquoise highlights thrown about, and yellow eyes that looked over a stove. He wore a black tank top and seemed too distracted by the meal he was preparing and the music through his headphones to notice the person snapping a picture of him.
Scara had seen him before, maybe once or twice while checking the mail. Seeing him in this light made him turn his nose away. It felt weird— intimate — especially in the way the picture was taken. Just another form of PDA by couples that Scara had no interest in.
“Your boyfriend too, I take it?”
That smile became confused, drawing Scara’s attention for the first time in a while.
“What gave you that impression?”
“Am I wrong?
Venti gave a quivering laugh of uncertainty, causing Scara to squint.
“Way off. He’s a pal and a confidant, if you will,” Venti claimed.
Scara’s eyes rolled in his skull. “Sure. You just mention him a lot. Doesn’t really matter to me.”
“Oh… Yeah, no, I’m not really boyfriend material.” The smile slipped completely from his face, his eyes flicking around, falling silent for the first time since being let in.
Leaning back, Scara took time to think, too, because even he knew when he stepped on a landmine. Still, he could use it as an opportunity to get Venti to leave all on his own. He had contracts to go over, deals to close— and Venti’d been there for a good thirty minutes already.
That worked for him, but, the longer he waited for Venti to break from his stupor, the more he noticed the heaviness in his shoulders, the tension he held there as his fingers fiddled together.
Curiosity killed the cat, he knew that; but maybe satisfaction would bring him back.
His hesitation led them to Venti taking a deep breath, putting back on that smile, and fixing himself to sit up straight.
“I actually wanted to come over and ask you something. I could have texted, but you didn’t seem like you could be bothered to text back if I did.”
So it finally comes out… “Go on then.”
“Right, um… How do I say this?” He seemed to ask himself, brows furrowing as his lips pursed. “I don’t usually have trouble with the words. I guess I want to ask how you do what you do. You just have a lot of… audacity?”
Scara folded his arms, brow raised. “If you came to insult me this is an absurd way of doing it and a waste of both of our time.”
“No, no! I don’t mean to insult you at all,” Venti quickly threw his hands up in defense, batting his coy little lashes. “I thought it was cool!”
Scara grimaced to himself, all thought coming to a halt as he analyzed the word aloud. “Cool?”
“Yeah! You did a lot to make sure that the problem got sorted out. I don’t think anyone else would have. I mean— even Xiao and I just ran straight past—”
“— And your point?” his jaw rolled around, not liking the way Venti’s flattery cut through and warmed him as he tried keeping his wits about him. He wanted something. That was why he was there. Yet, Venti’s unassuming tone continued to butter him up.
“Even drunk I could tell how much it mattered to you. And you saw it through. How do you do that? How do you tackle a problem and make change just… happen?”
Scoffing Scara crossed one leg over the other. “That’s broad as hell, how am I supposed to know? I see something I don’t like and I fix it, if I can. That’s it.”
“Even if it’s within yourself?”
“Of course. If I want something, I go after it. It’s not that difficult.”
Venti’s fists clenched together as that unbearable shine re-entered his eyes. “Could you teach me?”
Scara sighed deeply, fingers coming up to smooth out his brow line. What a waste of time. All this to hear out a pathetic plea for someone of his caliber to stoop to being someone’s life coach. He barely knew the guy!
He needed to get Venti out of his apartment.
“Look. You—”
A sudden, strong buzzing from his pocket took his attention away, his nose already twitching with annoyance as he took it out to check the number. The Inazuman area code dragged a heavy roll from his eyes.
Abruptly, he stood with the phone still ringing in his hand and made for the hallway. Venti looked up, concerned but Scara simply held a finger up to him and walked off to take the call.
He wouldn’t be gone long. He couldn’t stand more than a few minutes with her anyway.
Accepting the call he put the phone to his ear, glaring at the undeserving wall.
“Mother.”
“Good morning, Kunikuzushi,” he greeted him evenly.
His jaw clenched at the name, images of yelling in her face not to use it flickering in the back of his head. If it weren’t for his guest, she’d be in for a second helping.
“What is it this time? Another plea for me to come home? My time is valuable to me so I'll spare you yours. No.”
“You may go wherever you please, my intention has never been to limit you.”
“I don’t need your permission.”
“Correct. However, I do want to advise you that returning to resolve the conflicts you’ve left behind would be more beneficial than running away while others clean up your mess.”
“No one asked you to.”
“That negates that someone still has to make up for them.”
“Let it be anyone else if you’re going to hang it over my head the rest of my life. I’m not coming back,” he gritted, ready to hang up.
“Kuni,” Her authoritative tone made his grip on his phone vandalizingly tight. “If you continue down this road, I must warn you that you’ll become the very thing you’re running from— nothing more than a stubborn and helpless child. You can achieve nothing more with the past weighing you down.”
His breath shuddered out of him quiet as a whisper, from spite or the burn of tears he felt in his nose, he didn't know. This was among the only responses his body could produce through her sheer audacity. He supposed he could tell Venti now where he’d gotten it from.
Instead of giving her the satisfaction and allowing her to poison his life further he said his goodbye in two spiteful words and hung up, “Watch me”
His hand fell heavily as his fist clenched his phone, breathing deeply through his gritted teeth. She just wanted something from him. That was all people ever did, see what they could get from you.
Speaking of which, he glanced back in the direction of his living room. Just another loose end to tie up.
Taking a deep breath he shook his head, still foggy as his feet led him back. The room felt duller like an empty shell when he reentered. In his growing desperation to ground himself, he went for his cigarettes, ignoring Venti’s curious look from the couch as he swiped them up and took one in his mouth.
“Um—”
“If you don’t like it, the door's that way,” he cut him off, burnt out as he struggled to light the damn thing.
Venti shook his head. “I’m not judging. I just thought you’d want the orange end in your mouth.”
Opening his eyes to slits, he paused, realizing his mistake and the cruel irony of it forced a soft, bitter chuckle from his lips. The cig and lighter were promptly chucked back onto the table then as quickly as care left him.
In this midst of his rancid mirth, he leaned up in his seat all the way to the edge as he regarded Venti across the way— the only thing in the room that added color; even if that color had its own twisted hues hiding under all the pretty pigment.
“I’ll help you.”
“Huh?” Venti blinked in disbelief before standing straight up. “Really?!”
“Cool your jets. I will. No promises as far as how useful any of it will be. And, I have a zero-tolerance policy. So, do what I say, unless you’re a glutton for punishment, got it?”
“As long as it’s not dangerous or extreme, sure.”
Fair enough. “Good. Now get out of here already, I have shit to do.”
“Wait, what do you want? Y’know, for your help?”
Scara gave him a snide look. “Do I have to want something?” Everyone does.
“No. But, it doesn’t make you bad if you do. I’d like to be able to repay you.” Venti smiled.
Absent-mindedly, Scara scratched his chin, Venti’s sincerity making him itch. “...How much is it worth to you?”
“A lot. You’re really helping me out here.”
Ugh. He didn’t have time for this— would almost ask for a stick of gum just to get him to leave. “...Let me think about it. I’ll decide what it’s worth when we get to it.”
That smile only grew, all teeth. “Ok~!”
Finally, he headed for the door, taking all the treats they hadn’t eaten with him with a satisfied pep in his step. Strange. It wasn’t often that people left Scara without grimacing and swearing in his face, calling him every name in the book.
Not bad. Just strange.
“Thank you, again,” Venti slotted his head back through the door to say, only half of his face visible but his gratitude still evident.
“Whatever.”
The door shut with a final click allowing him to finally get to his feet, rolling his shoulders as he made his way to his office to check his computer. He expected to feel drained, maybe even a little irritated now that everything was over. Yet, the lightness in his shoulders and the looseness of his jaw pissed him off more, especially after having such obnoxious company.
“And he didn’t even have anything on the waste of space piling our trash up like the Jade Chamber tower,” he sighed. Hopefully, his miraculous change of heart wouldn’t get him caught up in another myriad of regrets.