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Martyn leaned against the door of his bar, tail lashing by his feet. Oli remembered to meet up with him, right? Had he forgotten?
He almost considered checking on Oli, just to be sure the garbage rat was safe. But he couldn’t - if he left now, they’d be suspicious.
Considering the fact there was another purple eye on the wall, staring him down.
“Damn you,” he grumbled under his breath. They watched him often - which should be obvious. They’d called themselves the watchers, so of course they watched. It’s in the name.
Once they’d thrown him into the piano where he met Owen, he expected them to leave him be. He’d won, he’d killed Scott and Impulse. Surely they’d be satisfied with that.
But eventually, they showed up again. They wouldn’t speak to him, just stared.
An everlasting reminder he was still following their orders, and probably would be for the rest of his life.
He was thrown back into reality when he heard a knock at the door. His fur bristled, and he hastily smoothed down his face fur and whiskers before opening the door.
A wave of relief washed over him when he spotted Oli.
“Marty!! Sorry I was, uh, late. Ya know, there’s garbage that’s gotta be eaten. Won’t eat itself, after all,” the garbage rat chirped. His ripped red sweater was dirtier than usual; he’d probably only just scurried out of the trash bins to meet Martyn.
“It’s fine,” Martyn replied, glancing behind him. The eye was gone. He was safe to talk to Oli, for now. “Come in.”
He watched Oli as he sat down at one of the tables scattered across the bar. Martyn hesitated, suddenly unsure of his decision, then shut the door and walked over to the table, sitting across from the other rat.
“So what’d you wanna talk about?” Oli asked. His enthusiasm left a sour taste in Martyn’s mouth.
“..yeah. About that,” Martyn began, trying to think of how to word his concerns, “You won’t understand what I’m talking about, and I will be vague. As to not name anyone specific.”
A dumb excuse, but it’d work. He couldn’t have the other rats knowing about the watchers. Nothing good would come from that.
“Before I was.. before I woke up in the piano with Owen, I was elsewhere,” he continued, “Nowhere near here. I was dropped into this world by someone, to fulfill a goal, or something. I never belonged here, I was never a rat. But now I am, for some reason.”
Anxiously, he awaited Oli’s response. The garbage rat tilted his head, processing the presented information, then shook his head.
“That’s awfully confusing. But, I personally think you do belong, Marty. Even if you’re from..somewhere else. Doesn’t change anything, does it really?”
Martyn’s fur puffed up again. This was one response he hadn’t expected. If anything, he thought Oli would either disregard him or not even care about whatever he said.
“Oh. Thanks, for that, then..” was all he could muster. His brain was cluttered, so much so he couldn’t even think of anything more to say.
Oli waved his paw in an almost dismissive manner. “It’s just what I think. You’ve been nice to me, you’re probably the only rat to ever do something like build me a home, or even sacrifice yourself in court - so I guess I just came to the conclusion you were a good rat. And you are.”
Martyn nodded thoughtfully, though still barely able to focus on whatever Oli was saying. He couldn’t tell at all what this meant. Did Oli like him, as more than just a close friend? If so, what would it mean for him?? He glanced back at the wall.
No eyes.
With a small confidence boost he opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, and tried to speak once more.
“Garbage rat, you’re, uh, a good rat, too.. You’re one of the only people - or, rats, I suppose - I’m close to, that I haven’t tried to betray. There’s not a lot in that category,” he spoke barely louder than a whisper, but it seemed to be enough since Oli heard him.
“Gee, thanks, Marty. I’m honored.”
“It’s not just that, Oli. You mean a lot to me. Jeez, they make this seem so easy-“
Martyn covered part of his face with one paw, leaning his head into it, as a smirk grew on Oli’s muzzle.
“Psh, it’s not that hard. If you’re saying what I think you’re saying. Just three words,” Oli said. Martyn smoothed down his whiskers, trying to remain calm.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right, I guess. Err- garbage rat, I love you, I think. I don’t know, I’m bad with feelings.”
Martyn’s anxiety remained as he awaited a response. He occasionally glanced at the wall, afraid of being watched. It probably wouldn’t be the greatest outcome if anyone saw him.
“You think??..whatever. I love ya, too, Marty,” Oli responded, the smirk still present on his face, “And I, for one, am very sure of it.”
Martyn placed his paw on his cheek again. “Oh. Wow. Uh, cool..I don’t know, what do I say after this?? I’ve never confessed.”
“I ‘unno, you wanna be my boyfriend?”
“Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Martyn replied, with a slight smile.
He gave the wall another quick glance. Still no eyes.
“Just, nothing in public other than like, hand holding. Er, paws in this case,” Martyn said, turning back to face Oli.