Michael:
It was over. That much was clear. My tail hung listlessly, the moisture in the air clinging to the fur, dampening it thoroughly. The fur on the rest of my body was somewhat dryer, due to the fact that I wore a long coat over shirt, pants, and shoes, and had a hat firmly planted on my head.
The rain fell rather softly, and the dreary evening left a grey pall over the entire town. I walked briskly down the sidewalk, the wind buffeting me from the side, and blowing the rain into frenzied sheets at my face. Even the feral dogs that roamed the streets were compelled to seek shelter at this time.
The temperature dropped quickly as the sun continued its incessant journey westward, and downward. As I walked, rain turned to sleet, then snow. I had yet to reach my destination, but still I walked, unheeding of the inclement conditions.
Yes, it was over. My love life had simply ended with the note left by my boyfriend, a fennec named Cory. Cory had written that he was no longer attracted to me. He'd found a muscled-up horse that could please him and make him happy. "It's not that I hate you, Mike," the letter read."It's that he loves me more." I was deeply disturbed and depressed. I knew it was not my size that was the issue. After all, I have dragon-blood. I am a hybrid of Leopard and Forest Dragon. I'm not exactly small down there. So, size and ability was not the answer.
I believed I knew why. I own nothing. I rent my apartment. I use public transportation. I work as a porter at an apartment complex across the street, making just enough to stay afloat. I have chronic clinical depression. Cory couldn't stand not having money. And, frankly, I could not blame him.
So, as much as I hated it, moving on was precisely what I intended to do. Which was why I was trudging down the sidewalk in the snow to meet with my best friend from childhood, a fox named Blaine Eric Timmons. I had always had a soft spot in my heart for the lively, athletic fox with a swimmer's build.
Blaine stood just 165 centimeters tall, the tops of his ears just able to brush my chin. He was one of those who had such a vibrant attitude, it seemed to spread to all those around him. What was even more astounding to me, was this: Blaine possessed a very substantial IQ, and had graduated with a Law Degree from the university up-country. Yet, he refused to use the degree. Instead, he opened a corner coffee shop and deli. And business was booming. If I were honest with myself, I'd have admitted that I had always had a rather large crush on him, but never was able to tell him.
Now, entering the shop, I waved at Blaine, and walked to the counter, where Blaine was overseeing two baristas and a cook. I ordered a spiced chai latte' and a turkey and swiss on rye panini. Upon receiving it, I seated myself in one of the numerous booths along the wall, affording me the ability to surreptitiously observe the object of my hitherto ignored affections.
I quietly ate, and was fully concentrated upon my food and drink, when the quiet voice of my friend impinged upon my ear. "Mind if I join you, hun?"
"Not in the least, Blaine. You are always welcome to sit with me," I said, a bit too honestly, and blushed as the words left my tongue.
The fox smiled softly, and sat across the table from me, a tall mocha in one paw. He looked me in the eye, and his smile faded slightly."What's wrong, Mikey?" He was the only one that could get away with using that nickname. Not even Cory got that privilege.
I looked up, somewhat startled that he could so easily detect my mood. Without a word, I dug into my pocket and withdrew the now-crumpled letter Cory had written, and passed it to him. As he read it, tears began to course down my snout and cheeks, and I was unable to stop them. Head down, I silently waited for him to speak. When he did, it was with a heady combination of passion and calm, that did nothing for my mood.
"I... I am so sorry, Mikey. I had no idea..."
"I found the letter this morning, laying on my work-desk." I buried my face in my paws and shook, crying. "I never could have guessed he'd do this."
I then felt the warm arms and body of a fox wrapped around me in sympathy and concern. I leaned into the warmth, and simply stayed.
I remembered all the things about Blaine I loved, his quirky smile, heady energy, active tail, and without realizing, said out loud, "I love you..."
Blaine stiffened and said, "I... I dunno what to say, Mikey... I mean, what about your love for Cory?"
It was then, I realized my mistake, and jumped up, embarrassed, and pulled my coat on, then ran for home, heedless of the weather. All the way home, I beat myself up for my slip, hating my emotions.
I entered my small apartment, called my boss, asked for a vacation, got it, and promptly planted myself in my bed, fully intending not to wake up.
Blaine:
There are few things I enjoy more than seeing people walk away happy, after a good coffee and a well made deli sandwich. As such, I love my job. But only one thing in this world has ever caused me pain.
That moment came when Michael left the store after blurting out his admission of love.
I, of course, blundered and stuttered my way out of telling him my own true feelings by asking him about his feelings for his ex. It was then he ran out, embarrassed, and practically disappeared.
I sat like a stone for at least an hour, not seeing the workers cleaning up around me. When I finally woke from my stupor, I went upstairs to my apartment, and crumpled to the bed, crying. I fell asleep with my clothes on.
Next morning, I showered, shaved, then went downstairs. The shop had been opened by my assistant manager, who, upon seeing me, immediately came to me and said in her quiet way, "Boss, let me run the place today. You have too much going on. And, by the way, you need to figure out why the boy ran last night."
Her perception was stunning. This human woman was not short on wisdom. I sighed, and asked, "What do you know, Edie?"
She smiled and said, "Enough to know you haven't been yourself since he started dating that fennec. I think, Blaine, you have loved him for a while, now, and did not know it."
As usual, I was stunned by the perceptive nature of the human. "Edie, if I didn't like you so much, and didn't need you here, I'd think awfully hard about terminating you here and now." I said this, fully knowing I didn't mean a word of it, and showing it with a wide grin. "That said, Edie, I trust you as usual, to keep this shop. Goodnight, Edie."
Edie smiled tenderly. "Take care and go get that Cat."
I smiled and headed out the door, jumped into my car and headed toward Mikey's apartment. There was nothing more I wanted than to curl up in his arms and let all the world disappear into the abyss. Well, that and other things more interesting and titillating, to be sure. I became rather self-assured that what I had to do, I would do, and all others be damned.
So, it was that with a resolute heart, I pulled into the parking lot of his workplace, a rather expensive looking apartment block that had a porter service. It was this porter service Mikey worked for. I parked in the Visitors Only Parking and walked to the reception desk. A tall female rabbit sat at the desk and smiled as I entered. "Can I help you, sir?" Her soft voice sounded somewhat hollow, in comparison with my Mikey's voice. Yes, I had become possessive of him.
"I'm looking for Michael Drake, a porter for this complex."
"Let me see if he is available." She pulled a hand-held two-way radio out of a drawer and keyed it. "Central to Mike Drake."
A scratchy, but intensely familiar voice came from the speakers, "Drake here, Over."
"Drake, please come to Central. A visitor for you, over."
A pause, then, "Alright. On my way, central. Drake out."
"Central out." She put the two-way radio back into the charger, and looked up at me. "Go ahead and have a seat, sir. He'll be right there."
I thanked her then sat in a seat near the door. After about ten minutes, the door swung open letting in the most pleasant musk I have ever smelt. I knew without looking who it was. Mikey...
I stood and faced him. "Mikey.."
Michael:
I slept hard. Dreams came and went. I cannot say I ever really rested. The words of the real love of my life kept intruding and making sleep the most restless thing I could have done. However, sleep I did. And when the alarm jangled it's hideous noise in my ear, I dutifully rose and showered, shaved the scraggly fur from my snout, trimmed the whiskers, sneezing in response, as usual, and dressed for work.
I walked across the road to my job, signed in, and began work. As a porter, I had cleaning duties and today was no different. I had been sent to clean out a recently emptied unit. I fully intended to pour myself into my work.
I was well into the job, and had made significant progress, when the radio I carried on my hip crackled and called my name. Apparently a guest was asking for me. So, like the obedient drone, I locked the rooms, and headed for central.
I opened the front door, and was immediately assaulted by a scent I never wanted to smell again. Blaine. And now he stood in front of me. Why must he torment me now? The thought was so cogent, I could not move because now, fear of confrontation filled my bones.
His voice started, "Mikey..." The voice, as usual, went right to my soul, and I started to wilt. "Don't go... We need to talk..."
I suddenly was angry. "Oh? Really? I simply told you what I felt about you and you had to go and make me a fool? Really? Is that what I get for fifteen years of friendship to you? Do I really rate that low on your affection meter?" My voice had now raised to a shout, and I was definitely spurting smoke from my nostrils. "You hurt me, -BLAINE-, and now you expect to talk? Try again, -BLAINE-!" With that, I turned and headed out the door.
I called my supervisor, told him I was sick, and where the equipment was, and headed home. I locked myself into my apartment, and didn't leave. In fact, my boss was kind enough to give me several weeks off. He said, "You need time to heal. You lost your partner, and you have lost a friend. Anyone would hurt. Go heal. Your job will still be here. I promise." He'd always been honest with me, so I believed him. I shut myself into my flat, only leaving for supplies.
When I needed to, I cleaned. When I didn't, I cleaned. After one week, the flat simply sparkled. Everything was in its place. Except for one thing. The flat was in good shape. I was not.
When the flat was finished, I broke. I fell onto my bed and cried my heart out again. Long hours I spent on my face. I hurt, and I felt lost.