Chapter Text
With a weapon of his handsome face, and the bizarre reality you now found yourself facing, you reluctantly took him in under your tiny place that was never meant to house for two…for now.
It was awkward, from all standpoints. Where could he sleep? You only have one bed, and unless the two of you slept stacking on top of each other, there was no possible way to fit a fully grown man as tall as he is. What would he wear? You don’t have clothes suitable for him to wear—half of your closet were made from cheap polyester. How would you budget and plan ahead for the additional serving on the table every meal now? The food, the bed, the clothes—rough math started to rack up in your mind and the number was growing by the second. Holding your phone in hand, you didn’t know what to search for first. You didn’t even know if you dare to; the miles your mind ran paralyzed you.
A plate of fresh cut honeydew pushed into your view, pausing you. “Some fruits, my young lady?”
Your eyes trailed from his well-sculptured hand, to arm, to curved lips, and to those bright blue eyes. They brought the wheel in your head back down to a steadier pace. You could feel yourself taking a breathe again.
Only your hands clutched your phone tighter, out of both his and yours sight.
He waited for you to take a bite, and you think it would be sweet if you did, but you didn’t. You nodded without thinking much, then contradictorily shook your head. “Since you have an ID, I’ll book a hotel for you,” you blurted out, avoiding his eyes. “…For now, at least.”
“…Of course…It would be only reasonable since this was all so sudden,” he chuckled timidly. “But, I’m afraid I’ll have to borrow some more money from you for that…It would be a loan, perhaps? Do not worry, I will surely pay it back with great interest!”
You made a vague sound of agreement. You didn’t know what to say, or what would be correct to say; there were no dialogue options for you to tap.
How utterly feeble of you?
The way to a nearby hotel was rather silent. You took note of his small actions: naturally taking his place walking next to you facing the road, naturally taking the small tote bag filled with an oversized hoodie of yours and some pants for men that the two of you bought on the way, naturally hovering his hands over you when someone’s bag got a little to close…like he was used to it all, like it’s his rightful place to.
How gentlemen of him. You wondered if your awkwardness had put him off or if he was being polite and considerate of your lack of sociability. You questioned if this was characteristic of him, or if you knew him at all. He always seemed so close yet so far in the comfort of your screen. Now he’s here, yet you questioned if he’s actually here at all.
You halfheartedly expected the hotel receptionist to finally burst your bubble that his presence was all in your head, but they didn’t, and instead acknowledged him just like they did you. You couldn’t help but snap your eyes to him in shock, and he met yours with a smile. Your heart beats like an idiot.
“I’ll be here,” he said, and handed you a napkin and pen he asked from the front desk. “But, may I have the honor to add your contact information to my small lot of possessions in this world? I only know you here after all.”
The height difference between the two of you made him lean a little lower to you against the door frame, and you could practically see the drooping ears from his head. You hesitated of course, but lost.
It’s a strange experience. You’ve only ever written down your number for applications, never really like this; not for someone that makes your heart flutter as easy as breathing. “Please don’t end up a scammer,” you half sincerely joked, handing the written napkin back to him.
“I won’t.” He traced your written numbers with his thumb, and answered in full seriousness, “Lars Rorschach presents himself to you with the utmost sincerely.”
You studied him leaning against that door frame, holding your number to his chest. You didn’t move, and neither did he. Silence took over the space between the two of you again, and silence was always a catalyst of anxiety in you. You should say goodbye, why wasn’t he bidding goodbye? With his charisma, he would for sure know how to end this interaction in a graceful way.
You didn’t want to say goodbye. You didn’t want to see him disappearing behind a closed door, didn’t want the possible illusion to end, didn’t want to leave with the regret of never seeing him again before your eyes when you’ve treated him more like a stranger than like someone you love.
He finally started to move. “Well, I’ll—”
“If—!” You stopped him, calling out, in the loudest you’ve ever spoken to him today, “If, you are still here tomorrow, if you…” Your words trailed off. Would you be making an empty promise to him? You are barely getting by yourself, are you actually prepared to take responsibility of another on a part time job income?
No, the more important question should be, why are you giving yourself such fragile hope?
“Tomorrow,” he assured, “I will be at the cafe next to the hotel in the afternoon. I will be using the 20 dollars that my lady given me to experience a part of her world.”
“I end class at 6…would that be too long?”
“Perfect time for dinner together, isn’t it?”
…
It wasn’t until you found yourself in front of your own apartment that you realized how casually he invited you to agree to a date.
How scary of him.
Anticipation washed over your brain the entire day. You found yourself bumping into people, tables, walls; you found yourself needing to reread the same line in your textbook over and over again, barely able to retain anything after the first read through. You wondered if your outfit is fine. You coordinated it with much more thought than usual. Would it expose the trembling anticipation that fluttered in you?
You tried to indulge in productivity as a distraction from it all—trying to distract your mind from seeing that fluffy golden hair and sea-tinted eyes. You woke up early enough to do your makeup in detail, with ample amount of time to spare. You studied the day’s material, and the day ahead. The notes you took during your session had never been so detailed in this entire semester.
Be normal, you told yourself. It’s a day like any other.
You couldn’t help but feel like you were back in grade school, looking forward to a trip that would take you away from the mundane routine of everyday life, even if only for a day. Your steps were quicker, and you’ve had to catch the corners of your lips from curving up throughout the day. The grass seemed greener, sun seemed brighter, and a sense of urgency wondered if your commute was always this slow.
Anticipation danced and waltzed in your heart until it fermented into something more unbalanced, something shaper. The closer you got, the slower your steps dragged on. Adrenaline pumped through your heart to pulse in your ears, and each step forward made it harder to differentiate if the rush was from excitement or fear.
Fear of the anticipation itself, perhaps. How funny would you turn out to be if he wasn’t there?
The gravity of it pulled down your feet and pushed you past the promised cafe without so much as glancing at it. You looped around the block once, and you allowed yourself another half a loop before forcing your hands to push through those doors, not giving time for any other reactions to brew.
Then, the first person you saw, sitting right by the door wearing your hoodie that dressed him more fitted than oversized: “Hi,” he greeted, eyes meeting yours.
“Hi,” you greeted back unconsciously. Your thoughts popped like bubbles at the sight of him like that. “You…are still here.”
“I am, in flesh and blood!” He beamed, offering his hand to you. “Well, my kind, benevolent, pretty young lady, have you finally came to claim me as yours? I do make a great price for value deal.”
The warm ambiance of the cafe softened his features and blurred your second thoughts. The aroma of fresh coffee and baked treats enveloped you with him, like two halves of a whole. There he sat, wearing your hoodie, reaching for you, and in that moment you thought, he had never felt more like yours than now.
You took him in again, taking him back to your rented apartment—mainly because you couldn’t afford the hotel fees any longer than a single night…and maybe because you couldn’t leave him be with the good conscience of your heart.
His pretty face nor his puppy eyes had nothing to do with it.
So that’s why you were now scrolling to buy human-sized dog bed for him. Unfortunately, with no couch in your tiny apartment, this money had to be spent when you neither have the space or the money for a properly sized mattress. Across the table, he took joy in picking out the choices for his new bed with you, praising you for your cleverness of the idea; it subsided much of the underlying embarrassment you had about buying him a dog bed instead of a proper bed.
“My young lady seems to really like characterizing me to a puppy,” he mentioned offhandedly once the two of you finally settled on which dog bed to buy. “Hm, what kind do you think I would be?”
You doubled and tripled checked all the order information, finger continuously halting over the order button, refusing to seal the deal. “Ah, I don’t mean it in a condescending way. Does it make you uncomfortable? I can stop if you’d like.”
“Nooo, doesn’t that mean you find me cute?” He walked around the table to stand beside you, looking at the dog bed that remained in your cart. “I think I’d like to be a golden retriever: outgoing, trustworthy, and affectionate with a strikingly impressive golden coat of fur.” Leaning down next to you, he pressed the order button. “They are also very capable and helpful to be a widely popular choice for a guide dog, I like that.”
“So you shouldn’t forget either, that your Lars can be more than just cute too.”