Chapter Text
Sunlight poured in through the little slits on the window-blind, bathing the room in its cosy yellow tint. The man shifted in bed, his arm reaching for the empty spot next to his body, the pillow cold and perfectly shaped like nothing had been resting on it. Mumbling to himself, he opened his eyes to confirm that the other side of his double bed was, indeed, empty. It had been so for a while. Still, every morning he would drowsily reach his arm out only to be met with the nothingness of the previous morning. It was only a reflex, he mustered, just an old habit he couldn’t shake, even after one and a half years. It would eventually subside.
He didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, as he glanced over at his alarm clock to find the smaller hand somewhere between the eight and the nine and, with a yawn, he made his way towards the window, pulling the blinds open just enough to look outside for a minute. Still in nothing but his light blue boxer shorts, he dragged himself to his kitchen. The earthy scent of freshly brewed coffee embraced him as he checked the big wall calendar he had got from the Chinese restaurant next door to see if he had anything major coming up. Never in his life had he needed planners, calendars, alarm clocks — his tasks were promptly memorised and organised in a file in his brain, and he always remembered everything: birthdays, anniversaries, big events at work. But his brain had begun to lose its prowess and, regretfully, he had found himself writing down every detail in the wall calendar.
It’s a lovely sunny morning as we approach the beginning of summer, the weather forecast looks clear for the next few days with a rise in the temperature-
The man absent-mindedly sipped on his coffee, the voice on the radio a mere filler for the otherwise silent kitchen. Outside, the screams and laughter of children could be heard from the school across the road. He smiled to himself, somewhat bitterly. A heavy knock on the door, however, startled him out of his own thoughts, and he scratched his head in confusion, unsure if he had simply forgotten he was expecting somebody on a Tuesday morning.
“Yes?”
“Excuse me, are you Mr Reiner Braun?”
On the other side of his door stood a tall and slender woman with dark hair and denim overalls. She held a big cardboard box in her arms, and he peeked to see his name written on it, with the wrong address.
“I’m he.”
She carefully handed him the box before disappearing into the stairwell, not saying anything else, leaving Reiner mildly dumbfounded, half-naked in his doorway. Blinking, he came to the conclusion that his upstairs neighbour might have got his package by mistake and the cogs in his brain shifted, as he realised he had ordered some supplies off of the Net.
He looked around his cramped living room, trying to figure out where to leave the box. After three months living there, he thought he would have unpacked and organised all of his belongings, yet large boxes still laid about, some opened and half emptied. One day I’ll tackle this, he reassured himself before putting on his tracksuit and running shoes and closing the door behind him.
He had grown so accustomed to the scent of baked goods that he could barely sense it anymore as it flooded every corner of his small apartment. As the cake baked in the oven, Reiner decided that maybe he could take care of some of those moving boxes he had pushed over to a corner, in an attempt to ignore them altogether. Luckily, his timer went off before he could move on to open a second box, and he ran back to the kitchen to check on his cake, piercing the middle of it with a large wooden toothpick. Reiner chose to ignore the mess in his counter, pushing all the random objects to the side in order to leave space for his freshly baked cake.
“Shit, where did I put my cooling rack?”
He found it underneath a pile of dirty dishes and sighed as he washed and dried it with a tea towel. A deep sigh formed in his lungs and Reiner debated for a moment if he should let it out–the physical manifestation of his inner exhaustion and inability to perform the simplest tasks, such as keep his house and workspace neat. It felt like too much of a chore just to breathe, just to exist, let alone put effort into anything. He couldn’t decide what felt more overwhelming: the mess his apartment was in, or the idea of cleaning it up. The sigh did come out, deep and drawn-out and it eventually turned into a cry of sheer fatigue, tears staining his cheeks, a hand coming to hold his head as he sobbed on the floor, enveloped by sunlight and the aroma of his orange cake.
The skin of his hands felt rough and dry, his fingers so swollen that the gold band on his ring finger threatened to become stuck there. He examined the thin band, using the pad of his right thumb to push it up in his finger, forcefully rotating and pushing until it slid off, and he held it in his palm, his eyes puffy and red. The blonde man gently placed the ring on his cluttered counter and got up, his mind in a haze, but he had to deliver that cake in less than twenty-four hours, and he still hadn’t even begun to decorate it.
*
He stood in front of the door, a pastel blue cardboard box in his hand, a slight flush to his cheeks. There really was no reason to feel out of place or awkward, but he did anyway. In the three months he had lived in that apartment building, he had not once spoken to any of the neighbours beyond uninterested greetings out of sheer politeness. Working from home seemed like a fantastic idea at first but the lack of social contact had started to get to him, oddly enough. Luckily, his aunt and uncle lived in the area and he had been reassured they would drop by from time to time to keep him company but, so far, they never did. Reiner knocked, cleared his throat and took a step back, waiting for the door before him to open. He waited for five minutes, then five more, knocked a couple more times and waited a couple more minutes but the door never opened. Frustrated, he turned around towards the stairs and was surprised to see her, so surprised they nearly bumped into one another.
“Oh, hello,” she beamed, slightly confused but mostly amused. “Did you need something?”
“I just-” he stuttered, feeling his face heat up as he avoided eye contact with the young woman. “I had leftover cake and wanted to give you some. You know, to thank you for delivering my package...”
Her brown eyes widened like a cat when its owner shakes the food box nearby, and she took the cake box in her hands, careful not to drop it. She looked up at the man and smiled brightly, genuine happiness mirrored in her face.
“That’s- that’s very kind of you,” she said as she opened her front door. “Would you like to come in?”
The offer caught Reiner off guard, and he brought a hand to the back of his head, nervously scratching at his hair, trying not to sound too shocked. She entered her home and left the door wide open as she put the cake box down and removed her trainers.
“I’ll make you some tea.”
Hesitantly, he stepped inside her apartment, leaving his shoes by the door. It was exactly the same as his own apartment: a small entrance hall giving way to a small living room with an open kitchenette, followed by a narrow hallway with three doors in it. He didn’t really know what do with himself, the discomfort of being in somebody’s home for the first time settling in, even if the house looked just like his. Despite the architectural similarities, her decorations were a lot more extravagant than his. There was a deer skull mounted on the wall, a lot of framed photographs of people he assumed to be her friends and family or maybe herself as a child. Everything was brown or red or yellow and it felt very cosy and warm and welcoming, unlike the mess he had everywhere in his flat. It was a comforting little home, and he eased himself a bit, even though he still felt odd being in a stranger’s home. For the most part, she was indeed a stranger. He didn’t know her name or anything about her other than her address. For a moment, he contemplated the weird thought that she could be trying to seduce him or, God forbid, murder him with a serrated knife, like in Law & Order, and then mount his skull to the wall too. He shook the thought away, realising how silly it was.
“I always seem to smell some sort of cakes around here, so it’s been you all along,” she noted, taking a big bite out of the red velvet cake. He had brought her five chunks of different coloured cakes, all shaped a bit odd like trimmings of a large cake that had been shaped into something else.
“Yeah, I’m a baker,” he stated as he added a spoonful of sugar to his herbal tea and stirred, bringing the spoon to the surface of the mug and dripping the tea in the spoon back to the mug. He had relaxed a little when she gave him permission to sit on the sofa, but he still felt somewhat uneasy. “And cake decorator.”
“That sounds so wonderful!” She spoke somewhat loudly, even though they were alone, and he was right next to her. He noticed a bit of an accent, perhaps Southern, definitely country. “How do you not eat all your cakes?”
For the first time in a while, Reiner laughed. A genuine laugh that made his chest vibrate. She laughed along with him, and he noticed the way she sometimes snored a bit, like a little pig, and he thought that was cute. She was cute, Reiner decided.
“Well, if I eat them, I won’t get paid,” he shrugged, recovering from his fit of laughter, feeling adventurous enough to look her in the eye for once, earning a soft smile from the woman.
They finished their tea, taking bites out of the cakes every now and then, conversation flowing more and more naturally by the minute. It had been the first time since the move that Reiner felt heard, seen. He was happy to have met the neighbour, the only person he had talked to for three months. Maybe he could bring her leftover cake more often, or invite her downstairs. No, he thought to himself, furrowing his brows. Your apartment is a huge mess, you can’t show that to people. Reiner tried to push these thoughts aside and enjoy his time for once, just one hour or two of not feeling guilty or grieving. The neighbour didn’t know why he had moved or that he hadn’t been able to unpack for three months or that he almost cried every morning when he saw all the kids having fun at the school gate just opposite their building. She knew nothing but his name, address and what he did for a living. She was the first person in the past year and a half who spoke to him normally, didn’t awkwardly apologise or made him feel like he had to constantly perform some sort of mourning ritual. And he wasn’t going to ruin the little joy he had found by burdening this woman with his sorrow. Not now.
“Of course, I can bring cake whenever I have some left, it would go to waste anyway.” Her eyes lit up, and she thanked him a million times, revealing she had loved his recipes, especially the lemon cake. “It was lovely, you’re very talented Mr Reiner Braun.”
“Well, I’m sure you have some talents of your own, Miss Sasha Blouse!”
He went to bed feeling a little bit lighter that night. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to turn around in bed and face the empty side just yet.