MID-MARCH. FRIDAY AFTERNOON
[Cabbagetown, Carlton Street]
The sun was dipping lower in the sky, painting Toronto in a gentle shade of gold. Though the main city buzzed with its usual chaos—students rushing home, workers weaving through traffic, teenagers laughing too loudly.
Despite everything, Carlton Street was calm.
The quiet row of houses stood neatly in line, their brick facades basking in the late afternoon glow. A jogger passed by. Someone walked their dog. For the most part, though, it was peace.
Through the damp cobblestone street walked a gray-haired young man. His shoes splashed against the puddles of half-melted snow, each step heavy with the weight of the satchel slung across his shoulder.
It was stuffed with letters, envelopes sticking out here and there, threatening to tumble free.
CIFER POWERS
27 YEARS OLD
STATUS: ON HIS 2ND JOB
He strolled with a light whistle escaping his lips, one envelope pinched between his fingers. His eyes scanned the name on the front.
"Where does this one go…?" he murmured, tilting it closer.
He scanned both the name and address embedded on its surface. Ramona Flowers
"Huh. Pretty name. Flowers…" he said it again, as if tasting the sound.
His gaze lifted to the house looming ahead of him. A two-story structure, large compared to its neighbors. From the sidewalk he could see the balcony framed against the fading sun.
He checked the house number against the envelope, once, then twice, just to be sure.
"This is it, I guess" he muttered. "I was told to make sure they get it"
For a brief moment, he debated—just slip it into the mailbox like every other delivery, or knock and hand it off directly?
After a pause, he nodded to himself.
"...Wouldn't hurt, I guess"
He climbed the porch steps, suddenly aware of how big the house looked up close. It didn't feel like a place for one person. Probably a whole family lived here.
His finger pressed the doorbell.
Ding-Dong!
He whistled while he waited, assuming one ring was enough. For a moment there was silence, then movement inside—the creek of floorboards, the shuffle of feet, the metallic clink of a latch.
The door swung open.
"Yeah? Oh—!"
The sight nearly made him freeze.
Standing in the doorway was a woman, her damp pink hair falling in loose strands around her face. A towel was slung over her shoulders like a cape, her casual blue shirt and snug black shorts still clinging faintly to the warmth of the shower.
The light caught her hair in a way that made it almost glow.
Cifer blinked once. Recognition clicked instantly. "Oh—it's you"
RAMONA FLOWERS
AGE UNKNOWN
STATUS: WAS DRYING HER HAIR
"You? What's up?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe as though she'd been expecting him all along.
She wasn't. Though her arms crossed casually, keeping her tone cool, the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her. She didn't expect them to meet again so soon, much more she'd only just stepped out of the shower.
Cifer tilted her head, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "So that's your name, huh. Ramona Flowers"
Her eyes widened for a second, realization dawning. She hadn't told him her name last night.
"Oh, shit. Right. I never gave you my name" she scratched the back of her neck and laughed awkwardly. "Well, there you have it, I guess. Hahaha…"
Cifer didn't press the point. He was already pulling two envelopes from his satchel. "Well, I can't really stick around. Just came to deliver these"
Ramona nodded as she accepted them. Their fingers brushed for the briefest second before she set the letters on a little table by the door.
"Thanks" she said softly.
That probably should've been the end of it. He had a route to finish, after all. But there was something about the way she stood there, staring at him like she wasn't letting him go just yet.
"So this is what you do?" she asked, tilting her head. Her tone carried more interest than politeness.
Cifer raised a brow. "Mailman. Glamorous, right?"
Ramona chuckled. "Funnily enough, I'm actually in a similar line of work. Though I have a day off today"
"No kidding? Can't be mail" Cifer glanced at her, skeptical. "Haven't heard about any newcomers"
She shook her head, lips curling into a grin. "Close. Packages. I'm doing the Amazon grind. Started last week"
"Ah" he nodded knowingly. "So we'll be crossing paths a lot then. Mail, parcels… same routes, same headaches"
Ramona smirked at his deadpan accuracy, but before she could answer, Cifer glanced at his watch. 4:30pm. Only thiry minutes left on his shift, and a handful of deliveries still waiting in his satchel.
"Well, I gotta get going" he said, stepping back toward the porch steps. "Still have a few houses to swing by"
He had barely turned when her voice cut in.
"Hold on" Ramona stepped forward, towel slipping slightly as she grinned. "I'll tag along. At least until the store. Need to grab a few things anyway"
Before Cifer could protest, she had already disappeared back inside, the door swinging shut behind her.
Left alone on the porch, he sighed and leaned against the railing, pulling out his phone. His eyes scanned aimlessly through unread texts and dull emails, the same tired weight in his eyes that lingered from the night before
Still, despite himself, he found he wasn't really annoyed.
—————————————————————————————
It didn't take long before Ramona finally reappeared, almost sliding out the door as she fumbled with her keys to lock it behind her.
Cifer straightened up immediately, slipping his phone back into his pocket and readjusting the strap of his satchel. But when his eyes landed on her, he couldn't help but notice the difference.
Gone was the towel and casual shorts. Instead, she wore a layered look: a blue hooded jacket thrown over a brownish one, a short skirt with purplish stockings, and a pair of goggles perched carelessly on her head. A round shoulder bag—complete with a star stitched boldly at its center—hung at her side. And in her hand… rollerblades.
Before he could stop himself, his eyes lingered.
"Hey, dude" Ramona said, a teasing edge in her voice. "Glad you're admiring the view, but my eyes are up here"
Cifer snapped out of it like someone poured cold water over his head. He coughed into his fist, trying to mask the faint pink creeping onto his face.
"Ahem. My bad. Got a little lost there. Anyway—you good to go?"
Ramona chuckled at his awkwardness, clearly enjoying the reaction more than she let one. "Yeah, sure dude"
She trailed after him down the porch steps… only to stop halfway, plopping down on the last one.
"Hold on a sec"
Cifer paused and turned just in time to watch her swap out her jet-black heeled boots for the rollerblades she'd been carrying. His eyes narrowed slightly as she tucked the boots neatly into her bag—though when the bag opened, he caught a faint glow from inside.
"...Seems like a pretty nifty bag" he muttered.
Ramoan shrugged, fastening her blades. "Yeah. It's handy"
She tapped her toes against the ground, testing for looseness before pushing off. With practiced ease, she glided in a smooth arc around him, stopping just inches in front of where he stood.
Her lips curled into a sly smile. "Alright. I'm good to go"
With a playful push, Ramona rolled off, circling around the fence before glancing back at him.
"Come on, slowpoke!" she called, her voice carrying easily over the quiet street.
Cifer sighed, but couldn't help watching her for a moment—the way her hair caught the breeze, trailing behind her like a ribbon. Eventually, he forced himself to move, adjusting the strap of his satchel and pulling out the next set of envelopes.
One by one, he checked the names and addresses, his brow furrowed in concentration. The afternoon light wasn't doing his eyesight any favors.
Ramona slowed her pace and glided back to his side, her wheels humming softly on the pavement.
"Hey" she leaned slightly, peering up at him. "You look like you just got some annoying news"
Cifer blinked. "Hm? Oh. It's not the mail" Realizing what she meant, he tapped a finger under his eyes. "My eyesight's pretty crap. Gotta squint if I want to read the tiny stuff"
Ramona tilted her head. "Seriously? And you still do this job? Never tried glasses?"
They passed into the front yard of the next house.
Cifer made his way up the steps, replying over his shoulder. "I mean, I do have glasses"
He slipped a couple envelopes through the door's slot, then let out a soft laugh.
"I just forget them at home most of the time"
Ramona chuckled, skating a little circle at the bottom of the porch.
"Well, good thing you don't forget the mail as often as your glasses" her smirk was teasing, but not unkind.
Cifer descended the steps, meeting her eyes with a faint smile. "Guess I've got my priorities straight, then"
He brushed past her with a lopsided grin, his satchel bouncing lightly against his side as he stepped out of the yard.
Ramona pushed off effortlessly, skating to match his stride, her wheels hissing softly over the uneven pavement. Despite the lingering patches of ice, she moved with practiced ease, the graceful rhythm of her skates echoing against the calm backdrop.
"Sure" she said with mock seriousness. "If your life priorities are mail and envelopes"
Cifer's grin widened into a weary smile, born from fatigue rather than joy.
"Eh, someone's gotta keep these envelopes in line" his shoulder slouched slightly as he answered her jab. He lifted a hand in halfhearted emphasis. "Can't let the postal service down"
"Right~ Cause the fate of the world totally depends on mail" Ramona chuckled, leaning toward him slightly, eyes bright with amusement, her voice playful.
"Hey, you never know" Cifer replied, his tone carrying a dry humor. A small laugh slipped out as he shrugged. "Maybe one day I'll stumble across a world-changing letting hidden between overdue bills and pizza coupons"
Ramona grinned mischievously, giving him a light nudge with her shoulder as she teased. "If anyone finds a world-altering secret in junk mail, I'll assume it's you"
Cifer smirked, meeting her gaze. "Watch. When I do, I'll make sure to rub it in your face"
Their conversation drifted easily with the rhythm of their steps—the slap of Cifer's boots on the damp sidewalk, still slick from the melting snow, accompanied by the smooth glide of Ramona's skates at his side.
Cars passed occasionally in the distance, but here, the street felt quieter, calmer.
The chill in the spring air lingered, biting gently at their skin, yet their banter kept the cold at bay. Their laughter wove into the evening wind, the sound light but grounding, a subtle reminder that the weight of the world really was just envelopes and rollerblades.
At least for now.
—————————————————————————————
[Cabbagetown, Sherbourne Street]
For the next twenty minutes, Cifer moved from building to building with his usual rhythm—mail out, satchel lighter with every address. Normally, this part of the job was marked by silence: just the rustle of envelopes and the occasional whistle.
But today, he was accompanied by the hiss of wheels gliding against the ground. A smoky, almost lazy voice that kept sliding into his quiet.
Sometimes she skated beside him, sometimes ahead, looping around corners with ease. She'd vanish for a moment, exploring with idle curiosity, then circle back with a knowing grin just as he finished another delivery.
Cifer found himself… not minding the change.
Digging into his satchel, his fingers brushed against something that caught him off guard.
Only one envelope was left, tucked neatly at the bottom.
He frowned, double-checking the empty bag before pulling it free.
His watch read 4:55 pm.
"Fuck" he muttered pinching the bridge of his nose.
From a few meters ahead, Ramona turned mid-bite into a snack bar.
She skated back toward him, eyebrows raised. "Got a problem, dude?"
He hesitated, considering brushing it off. But her gaze was steady, expectant.
Finally, he exhaled.
"It's nothing… just need to make a delivery across town in five minutes"
"That's a tight deadline" she said, concern flicking through her tone. "Sure you can make it?"
"I should… if I run" he waved lightly at her, already shifting his bag into place. "Better head out now before I'm late"
But before he could take a step, her hand shot out, fingers curling firmly around his.
"I got this" Ramona said, her voice leaving little room for doubt. "Just owe me one"
Cifer blinked. "...What?"
Her eyes scanned the street, searching for something… until they locked onto something unseen. A corner of her lips tugged upward.
"There's one. Come on!"
And without waiting for an answer, she tugged him forward. Her skates cut clean lines over the icy pavement, her grip strong enough that he had little choice but to follow.
They skidded to a stop in front of a door.
Peculiar, out of place—wedged into the side of a building as if it didn't belong there. The frame was crooked, the design alien.
Cifer stared at it, unease prickling at the back of his neck. "I don't know about this…"
Ramona only smiled, swinging the door open as if she'd done this a thousand times before. Darkness stretched beyond.
"Trust me, dude. This is way faster"
And before he could say anything, she stepped inside, tugging him along by the hand.
With a reluctant breath, Cifer followed her into the dark.
—————————————————————————————
[Regal Heights, Tyrrel Avenue]
Before Cifer could even process what had just happened, they stumbled out of another door. A sharp rush of cool air hit his face, and when he blinked, his surroundings had changed completely.
His eyes widened as he took in the street signs and buildings. They were across town—what should've taken a bus ride, maybe half an hour at best, had just happened in seconds.
Heart still racing, he spun around to look for the strange door they'd come through.
But it was gone. Vanished without a trace. Only a blank brick wall stared back at him.
"...The hell?"
"You alright?" Ramona's voice snapped him out of it.
She raised a brow at him, smirking like she'd just pulled a minor prank instead of… whatever that was.
"Uh… yeah? I guess?" Cifer stammered, eyes darting between her and the empty wall. Then the words tumbled out in a rush. "No! Hold on, wha—what the fuck was that?!"
She just shrugged. "Some kind of subspace highway I borrow from time to time"
Her tone was so casual it almost made his head spin. His jaw tightened, searching for something else to say, but she cut him off first, clearly amused by his reaction.
"Look, dude. I'd be glad to give you a rundown, but if I do, you're gonna be late"
Her smirk deepened as his expression shifted.
"Oh shit—right!"
The reality of his job came crashing back. In the haze of his confusion, he'd almost forgotten the whole point of this sprint: that last mail.
He adjusted his satchel, ready to bolt—when something tugged at his attention.
He froze, glancing over his shoulder at Ramona.
"...You mind letting go now?"
Her eyes blinked blankly at him. "Huh?"
It took her a second to follow his glance downward.
And then… realization.
Her hand was still clasped tightly around his. A flicker of color rose to her cheeks—faintly close in color to her hair—as she let go instantly, as if the touch had burned her.
"S-sorry. Slipped my mind" she muttered, trying to sound casual, though her voice faltered at the edges.
Cifer just shrugged, unfazed. "Happens. Anyway, I should get going. Thanks for the… uh, ride? Haha"
He gave a short laugh, already turning forward before she could reply.
Within moments, he was running off down the street, satchel bouncing against his side.
Ramona lingered where she stood, her expression softening as she watched him fade into the distance. Then, with a small smile tugging at her lips, she raised a hand in a lazy wave before skating off in the opposite direction.
—————————————————————————————
[Davenport, Davenport Road]
A few minutes after parting ways with Cifer, Ramona wove her way through the vibrant streets of Toronto.
The city opened itself around her like a moving canvas: rows of cozy brick houses blending into sleek high-rise apartments, quirky little shops tucked between cafes, restaurants spilling out their warm chatter and clinking cutlery.
Life pulsed on every corner.
Couples strolled hand in hand, their laughter bright against the hum of traffic. Families corralled children darting ahead with carefree energy. Friends leaned close across steaming cups of coffee. For a moment, the sidewalks felt less like bland pavement and more like a collage of fleeting stories, each one passing her by as the wheels beneath her feet.
But she also had her own fleeting story.
Her rhythm faltered when her gaze drifted down.
Her hand was still open.
Ramona's mouth pulled into a faint line.
Tsk
She clicked her tongue softly and curled her fingers into a fist, as if shutting the thought away.
'Guess I'm not used to this 'just being friendly' thing with a guy yet' she thought, weaving past a businessman who barely noticed her glide by.
The thought clung to her longer than she liked. She drifted to a stop at the curb, exhaling a sigh. The city buzzed around her, but her mind was elsewhere—caught between irritation and something else, something she can't quite pin down.
Another breath. In. Out. The cold air settled her nerves.
With a push of her foot, she took off again, wheels scraping lightly against the pavement as she melted back into the overflow of the city.
Her eyes roamed the streets with new focus—not to dwell on the lingering warmth of a hand she'd only just let go, but to map out the town, to anchor herself in this place that was still half-strange to her.
Since for now… that was easier.
—————————————————————————————
[Saint Clair Avenue West, near a Catholic Secondary School]
After dropping off the last envelope on time, Cifer allowed himself the luxury of a slow stroll back toward the post office in order for him to change out of his uniform.
A thin stream of smoke curled from his lips, scattering into the chilly evening air. The horizon glowed orange with the fading sun, and for a brief moment, the usual weight pressing against his chest seems lighter.
He took another drag from the cigarette, the tip flaring faintly, then exhaled along with a quiet sigh.
Music filled his ears through his battered Walkman, the soft hiss of the cassette tape underscoring the beat. He hummed under his breath, head bobbing slightly in time, boots splashing carelessly through shallow puddles left behind by the melting snow.
When the cigarette burned down to its end, he flicked it onto the pavement, grinding it out beneath his heel without breaking stride. With practiced ease, he fished another carton from his pocket and gave it a tap against his palm.
That's when he noticed someone.
A blurry figure in the distance. Small, moving toward him at a brisk pace.
Cifer narrowed his eyes, pulling his headphones down around his neck as the figure's outline sharpened against the golden haze of sunset. Petite. School uniform peeking out beneath a black jacket. Dark hair tied back in a familiar neat ponytail that swayed as she skipped.
She lifted a hand and waved energetically the moment she was closer, her steps quickening with unmistakable eagerness.
He stopped in place, carton halfway back into his pocket, a faint crease forming in his brow.
Something about her felt oddly familiar…
And then, it clicked.
KNIVES CHAU
17 YEARS OLD
STATUS: MADLY IN LOVE (MORE ON THAT LATER)
"Cifer~~~!"
Her voice rang clear through the fading light of evening, brimming with boundless energy as she started dashing toward him.
Cifer came to a stop, raising a hand in return. A small smile tugged at his lips despite himself as he watched her sprint closer.
Knives was like that. She was a girl who wore joy as naturally as breathing. The complete opposite of him who constantly carried fatigue in his shoulders and in his sighs.
On paper, the two of them have no reason to cross paths, let alone share a bond.
Yet here they were.
To Knives, he was one of her oldest friends… Is also her oldest friend.
To Cifer, she was his friend's cherished younger sister.
With a playful leap, Knives threw herself into his arms, pressing into the familiar comfort she always found there.
Sniff. Sniff
Her nose twitched.
"Cigarettes… you were smoking again, weren't you?" she accused, scrunching up her face but not moving away, her chin propped up against his chest as she peered up at him with mock disapproval.
"Hahaha…" Cifer gave a guilty chuckle, looking anywhere but her.
Her nose wrinkled again, but he gently cleared his throat, eager to steer the conversation elsewhere.
"Anyway, didn't your class end, like, an hour ago? Were you hanging out with friends?"
"Ah! Right, right!" Knives suddenly bounced back, her eyes sparkling as if she had been waiting for this cue all along. She hopped in place, hands clasped in excitement. "Listen to this! "Listen to this! Listen! Listen! I'm actually going to Scott's right now! It's going to be our second date! Second! Doesn't that make us basically madly in love!?"
Her voice rose in a squeal as she spun in a delighted twirl, her ponytail swishing behind her. The sheer earnestness on her face could have melted anyone's heart.
Cifer, however, could only watch with a mix of fondness and dread. Her joy was infectious, sure, but the reason behind it made unease settle in his chest.
He let out a long breath, then reached out, gently resting a hand on her shoulder to ground her before she could spin herself right into traffic.
"Hey there… Earth to Knives" he said softly, his tone lined with both warm and quiet concern.
His hand still rested lightly on her shoulder, steadying her even after her little burst of excitement.
Knives tilted her head, blinking up at him, her wide smile not faltering.
Cifer exhaled slowly. "As much as I love seeing you this happy, I can't help but worry about you dating someone… like… older"
The words slipped out heavier than intended.
"Not you too! Ugh!" Knives stomped her foot, face scrunching in frustration. "My brother already nags me at home about it."
The memory clearly stung—she puffed her cheeks like a sulky child, recalling the time her brother caught her with Scott and dragged her into a three hour lecture.
Cifer scratched the back of his head, weary. "We're just worried for you Knives"
Her pout deepened, arms crossing slightly as she turned her gaze away. A little huff escaping her lips.
"It's not fair" she muttered. "Why does everyone make such a big deal out of it?"
Her words stung him more than she realized. Cifer felt guilt creep into his chest. He knew she was too young to be swept up in something like this… but watching her glow with this kind of happiness, he couldn't bring himself to crush it completely.
"...Alright" he relented at last. "I'll let it be… for now"
Knives perked up instantly, hearing his compromise.
"But if things go sideways" he added firmly. "You're on your own. Understand?"
"Ugh, fine…" She let out an exasperated sigh, though the relief in her expression was impossible to miss. "Just make sure to tell my brother, so he quits bothering me"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll let him know when I see him" Cifer allowed himself a faint smile, shaking his head in resignation.
"Yay! You're a lifesaver!"
Knives immediately bounced forward, wrapping her arms around him again in a tight hug. Her grin stretched wide against his chest, radiating warmth he didn't realize her needed until that moment.
With a soft chuckle, Cifer returned the embrace, letting a small smile tug his lips despite his exhaustion.
"Well, I still have work to do" he gently patted the top of her head. "So you better get going"
"Umpf! Umof!" she brushed her head against the fabric of his uniform before she finally let go.
The young girl playfully hopped back, then skipping past him with light steps.
Turning on her heel, she flashed him a bright wave. "Catch you later then!"
"Don't be out too late" Cifer called after her.
"I won't! Hehe!"
And with that, she darted off into the distance, her hair swaying as she disappeared into the city streets.
Cifer stood waiting until she faded completely from view, before finally turning and heading off in the opposite direction—his smile gone.
—————————————————————————————
[10:00 pm. Peter Street, Bar Hop Brew Co]
The night pulsed with a low, comfortable energy. On Peter street, just across from the looming Entertainment One Building, a cozy bar sat tucked beneath neon signs and warm amber lights. Inside, the hum of conversation blended with the clink of glasses, the sizzling of bar food from the kitchen, and the faint hum of a relaxed jazz melody playing through the hidden speakers.
It wasn't loud. It was barely rowdy. It was the kind of place where tired souls came to settle in, loosen their ties, and pour their worries into a drink or two.
At the bar, two men sat together—though conversation might have been a generous way to describe what was happening.
One of them, with shagger hair and the look of someone who's mastered the art of slacking off, leaned lazily against the counter.
His yellow ringer T-shirt was wrinkled, his light denim jeans scuffed at the knees, but his grin carried all the reckless confidence in the world. His head rested sideways on the polished wood of the bar as he spoke dreamily, as if narrating some profound epiphany.
SCOTT PILGRIM
23 YEARS OLD
STATUS: AWESOME
"I'm telling you guys, she was real!" Scott insisted, his voice brimming with excitement.
Beside him sat a man of sharper contrast—short, slightly messy dark hair, eyes that seemed to laugh even when his mouth didn't, dressed neatly in a buttoned-up shirt under a sweater.
A tequila Copita sat in front of him, almost empty.
WALLACE WELLS
25 YEARS OLD
STATUS: TIPSY
"Yes, yes, my over-fantasizing friend" Wallace drawled, his tone the perfect mixture of sarcasm and indulgence. "You've said that about thirty times one the way here already"
Scott, unbothered, raised his head just enough to emphasize his words.
"When I saw her, I swear—I saw sparkles. Like… like when Sonic dies and all his rings go flying everywhere. It was magical"
His description was absurd, but his conviction made it sound like gospel.
Wallace gave him a long, unimpressed look before sliding his empty glass down the counter.
With his chin resting lazily in his palm, he tapped his finger against the wood. "Uh-huh… and you spoke with this mysterious, sparkly Sonic-woman?"
Scott hesitated, lips curling. "...Kind of. I guess?"
"You 'guess'" Wallace's brows arched as his lips curled into a wicked grin. "Scott… listen. I don't care if you want to obsess over random women like some lovestruck puppy. In fact, I welcome it. But maybe, hyst maybe, you should get to know someone before deciding they're the love of your life. Isn't that right, my dying bartender?"
His gaze shifted sideways as a fresh glass slid smoothly across the counter.
The man behind the bar looked up briefly from polishing a glass. His expression was calm, but tired, like someone who hasn't slept in a few days. His uniform sleeves were rolled up, revealing faint veins from the strain of long shift.
CIFER POWERS
27 YEARS OLD
STATUS: EXHAUSTED
"Even if I agree with Wally" Cifer muttered, running the dry rag along the rim of the glass. "You've got other problems, Pilgrim"
Scott blinked at him, confused.
"You've already got a girlfriend, don't you?" Cifer continued flatly. "Even if we skip you being a piece of shit for dating a high schooler at you age, a girlfriend's still a girlfriend"
Scott sat up, his head finally lifting from the counter. "Why do you feel the need to bring that up?"
Cifer didn't even flinch at Scott's insensitivity. "Let's set aside the obvious social problem. If you really think you're about to chase this mystery girl, you should at least give Knives the decency of breaking up with her first"
Wallace clinked his glass down with a grin. "Good advice! That's why I like you"
He gave Cifer a shameless wink before tipping the last of his drink into his mouth.
"But Cifer's right, Scott" Wallace continued, swirling the empty glass like it still had something left in it. "You're not getting anywhere with you dream girl if you still have Knives' red string of fate tied up to you arm. That poor angel"
"But breaking up is haaaard~~~!" Scott groaned loudly, slamming his forehead back onto the counter.
Cifer's gaze hardened, setting down a clean glass on the counter. "You, of all people, should know better than to treat Knives this way, Scott"
Scott peeked up at him with tired eyes. "...Should I just, like… call her and get it over with?"
"NO!"
"NO!"
The synchornized outburst from both Wallace and Cifer rattled Scott so much he practically jumped out of his seat.
The bar fell silent for half a second before both men sighed at the exact same time, their exasperation blending like a rehearsed duet.
"Can you…" Cifer pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can you at least be proper about this?"
Scott tilted his chin back onto the bar, looking up at Cifer with a mixture of confusion and resignation. "...Uh. Should I… just wait till she breaks up with me?"
Cifer just stared. A stare that screamed. 'Really? This is your brain at work?'
Meanwhile, Wallace casually waved at the other end of the bar, trying to flag down a different bartender for a refill. Before he could even call out, Cifer grabbed him firmly by his sleeve, yanking him back into the conversation.
"Ok" Cifer said, his voice edged with tired patience. "Help me out here"
Wallace shrugged, swirling the fresh drink in his hand as if it had all the answers.
"I don't know what to tell you" he paused, lips twitching as though he should actually say something, even if he didn't want to. "Look, Scott… you've got two options. Either take this slow, or just rip the band-aid off"
"Let's focus on the slow here" Cifer interjected firmly, giving Wallace a side-eye.
Scott raised his head from the counter, his expression brightening with sudden hope. "Can we just stick to the girl I saw for now?"
Cifer and Wallace exchanged a glance, then both gave a small, silent nod. Fine. Let him dream.
For now.
As Cifer gathered the empty glass from in front of Wallace, his friend seemed more distracted by someone passing behind them. Scott, however, was already off in his own little world.
"First I saw her in my dreams" Scott began, his voice dramatic, like he was narrating an epic. "Then I saw her at the library. Then—BAM!—at the party. Don't you see? This basically fate trying to get us together!"
"As much as I admire you… extreme imagination" Cifer popped open a bottle of tequilla, his expression dry. "Don't be too heartless when you finally get around to that breakup. If you're really set on pursuing this girl, at least be delicate about it"
He set down Wallace's drink with a soft clink.
"Then again, you don't even know this Dream Girl's name, do you?"
Scott's face suddenly started twisting in regret. "Argh! You sister's the only one who knew! I should've pressed her to tell me"
He dropped his forehead onto the counter again, groaning.
Wallace, already sipping from his glass, smirked over the rim. "Maybe it's someone you know, Cif. After all, you're Mister 'I-Know-Everybody' around here"
Cifer raised a brow, tossing a rag over his shoulder.
"...Fine. I'll bite" he leaned in across the bar, resting his palms flat against the wood. "What does she look like?"
"Well…" Scott strained a little, trying to sound serious. "She was pretty. Like, really pretty"
Cifer blinked. "...And?"
Scott's eyes lit up as he started dramatically waving his hands. "She was sparkling. Like—literally sparkling! She was amazing!"
Wallace let out a short laugh and raised his glass lazily. "Right, right. He doesn't even know. He's been repeating those exact words since the party"
"Not really helpful info" Cifer muttered, already regretting even indulging him.
He grabbed another glass from the growing stack beside him and methodically polished it, choosing to lose himself in the mindless rhythm of his worl instead of Scott's endless daydreaming.
Scott, however, was undeterred. His gaze drifted somewhere far, far beyond where he's at currently.
"I'm telling you guys… I think she's one amazing girl… she might be the one"
Cifer and Wallace exchanged a look over his head. Their shared silence said everything: part judgement, part concern.
But it was mostly judgement.
Cifer tilted his head, deadpan. "...I didn't accidentally serve him alcohol… right?"
"I wish this was just a drunken mood of his" Wallace sighed into his drink. "But sadly, this is him sober"
He tossed back the last sip and set the empty glass back down.
Wallace rose to his feet, grabbing the black coat hanging off the stool beside him. His cheeks were already feeling warm from the tequila, but his smirk remained intact.
"Well. Seeing as I'm officially sliding into intoxication. It is time for us to leave"
Scott perked up, pulling on his trusty blue parka. "Are you finally done?"
"Thank you for the five-star service as usual, our good friend" Wallace said with exaggerated politeness, giving Cifer a mock salute as he slipped on his coat.
As if to escape before the tired bartender could object, Wallace shoved Scott lightly between the shoulder blades. "Alright, time to go, lover boy"
They had already taken two steps when—
Ahem. Ahem.
The sound was blunt enough to make both Wallace and Scott freeze.
Cifer leaned lazily on the counter, one brow raised. His rag hung over his shoulder, and the look in his eyes could've passed for casual—if not for the steel in his voice.
"Pay up" he said flatly. "You're not getting away again, Wally. You still owe us a few hundred bucks"
Wallace smile didn't fade even a bit. He just waved a hand dismissively while increasing the pressure on Scott's back, practically herding him toward the door.
"I swear I'll get you next time. Let it slide for now, yeah? Please?" he gave a theatrical spin as if his escape was a performance. "Well then, adieu, my good sir!"
"See you next time, Cifer!" Scott called cheerfully, offering a lazy wave as he was pushed out the door like luggage.
The two vanished out the doors before Cifer could even try to step over the counter.
"...Son of a bitch"
The words slipped out under his breath as he snatched up the abandoned glass and wiped the counter with the rag still perched on his shoulder.
But just like that, he let the irritation slide.
Or it just died down with his energy.
His expression smoothed, his posture straightened, and in seconds he returned to professionality.
Order flowed in. Cifer met each one with muscle memory: grabbing bottles, twisting caps, measuring pours, shaking, mixing, sliding drinks across the polished bar top with effortless precision. He was basically performing, every motion refined by the countless hours behind the counter.
Customers smiled, glasses clinked, and the warm hum of satisfaction rippled through the building.
Time slipped past without notice. Even after the last call echoed across the bar, Cifer remained steady, methodical. He wiped tables, swept floors, and gathered stray utensils with the same calm on his face.
Exhaustion tugged at the edges of his body, but he didn't falter. It was just another night. Another shift. Another quiet routine.
—————————————————————————————
[2:00 am: Ontario, 125 Beaconsfield Avenue]
Creak…
The front door groaned on its hinges, spilling a thin beam of streetlight across the darkened entryway. Cifer slipped inside, jacket draped loosely over one arm.
Hah…
A weary breath escaped his lips. Shoulders sagging, he flicked the switch by the door.
The light blinked to life, revealing a spacious but understated living room: a gray couch and matching settee framed a glass coffee table atop a pale carpet. One either side of the sofa sat identical glass end tables, each crowned with a lamp.
He slumped into the settee by the door, letting gravity pull him down.
Even in his exhaustion, he bent forward to remove his shoes neatly, setting them into the rack with practiced care. His tie hung loosely from his collar, and as he leaned back against the wall, he raked his fingers through his hair, catching on knots. His gaze drifted upward, as empty as his ceiling.
Minutes bled away just like that—silent, motionless—until something bumped against his leg.
Grrr…
Cifer blinked, lowering his gaze to find a small, green alligator nuzzled against his shin. A bit pudgy, with a stubby tail that looked cut short, the reptile pressed its jaw to his foot and gave a soft, insistent hiss, as though scolding him.
"...Why are you out of your pen?" his voice was hoarse, but softened as he reached down, brushing his palm over cool scales. "It's cold out here"
The gator's eyes narrowed in bliss at the petting.
"I should wash up before I pass out here…" Cifer muttered, pushing himself upright with reluctant effort.
The reptile stirred, rising like a soldier to trail behind its weary caretaker. It hissed whenever he slowed, and occasionally bumped his calf, urging him forward.
Cifer trudged across the carpet, the muffled steps keeping rhythm with the tick-tock of the wall clock above. He tugged the tie free and undid the top button of his shirt, inviting the cool air against his skin.
The bathroom door clicked open.
Water burst from the faucet in a sharp stream, filling the space with its restless murmur. The gator flopped down on Cifer's foot like a smug sentry, apparently soothed by the sound.
Cifer barely noticed. His eyes were locked on the mirror.
Hollow sockets stared back at him. Eyes dulled by sleepless nights. Skin pale, stretched thin, like even his reflection had grown tired of existing. It was a version of himself that looked more ghost than human.
He cupped his hands under the icy stream, splashing water over his face. The frost bite forced a shiver through him, snapping him back to existence. For a moment, clarity cut through the fog.
Then the faucet squeaked shut, and the silence returned.
Cifer reached for the towel, pressing the fabric against his damp skin.
"I thought you'd be later"
A sudden voice came from his right. It was low, husky, tinged with a rasp as though weathered by smoke or sleep. A presence that didn't belong to the silence, but belonged here all the same.
Cifer froze. The damp towel sagged in his hand before he placed it neatly on the sink. Turning his head, he found her leaning against the bathroom doorframe.
A short, chubby girl with tousled yellow hair that framed her round face. A simple white hoodie hung loose over her frame, pairs with shorts that revealed pale skin made more stark in the dim light.
She looked no more rested than him, but the dark bags shadowed sharper eyes.
UNKNOWN
AGE UNKNOWN
STATUS: SHE'S BEEN WAITING FOR HIM
Cradled in her arms, pressed snug against half her body, was the pudgy little alligator. Its stub of a tail flicked happy, jaws resting lazily on her shoulder.
Cifer hadn't even noticed the small dinosaur left his foot.
He squinted at her, then allowed himself a faint smile. "Did I wake you?"
He didn't.
"No. Asteroid did"
Liar.
Her reply came cranky, but her hands never stopped stroking the gator's scaled head.
The creature rumbled in contentment, tail, or lack thereof, wagging like a dog's.
"Also…" she glanced toward the oversized clock hanging on the far wall. "Can you stop getting home at, like… two in the morning? It's exhausting having to wake up just to check if an intruder broke in"
Cifer chuckled under his breath, tossing the damp towel into the hamper. "You shouldn't bother with those thoughts. Not many people think of actually robbing this place"
He brushed past her, trudging into the hallway. She fell into step beside him.
"...I thought you'd have left by now" he said over his shoulder.
"Not like I've got anywhere else to go" her tone was casual, but her eyes flickered around the narrow, white-walled corridor as if to reassure herself.
Multiple doors lined either side, their shadows stretching long in the dim light.
"Besides, this place is comfy" her gaze returned to him, sharper. "Honestly, you looked so damn pathetic living in this house alone. You should be thanking me for keeping you company"
"Yes, yes…" Cifer's voice dripped with sarcasm. "I am forever grateful to be living with such a great character full of heart"
She narrowed her eyes. "...Screw that piece of shit tone"
Her muttering only earned a faint smirk from him as he trudged on, shoulders heavy with fatigue.
"Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you like"
"Don't need to tell me twice" her grin was small but smug. "I'm staying as long as I damn please"
Their banter carried softly through the halls until Cifer reached the end of the corridor and pushed open the door to his room.
Inside, the space was large but lived-in. A king-sized bed sprawled across one wall, a nightstand with a lamp at its side. Opposite the bed sat a sleek television with a console tucked neatly beneath it, wire bundled without care. Heavy curtains cloaked the tall window, shutting out the pale glow of the city outside. A second door to the left led into a private bathroom.
Cifer loosened his shoulders, finally letting the weight of the day press down.
Behind him, the girl adjusted the sleepy alligator in her arms, her eyes flickering around the room as though searching for something hidden in the corners.
Too tired to care, Cifer simply collapsed onto the bed, sinking into the mattress with a sigh. His body begged for sleep, but his mind refused to quiet—not with one particular distraction alerting his senses.
He turned his head. "Um… you mind?"
Sitting cross-legged in the window nook beside the bed, the girl stared at him, the reptile perched lazily on her lap. Both pairs of eyes—her's and Asteroid's—were locked on him.
"Don't mind me" she replied flatly.
"That's… kind of hard"
"What a whiner" she scratched the gator's back, eliciting a low hiss from its throat. "Go you sleep already or I'll whack you to sleep"
"At least don't kill me when I'm out cold, alright?"
Her lips curved into a crooked grin. "You've got a dragon for a pet and you're worried I'll kill you?"
The retort silenced him. For a few minutes, neither spoke. The room fell into the quiet rhythm of the faint ticking of the wall clock beyond the door, the occasional hiss of Asteroid falling into sleep. At one point, Cifer wondered if she'd already slipped out, or if she was simply watching him in the dark.
But she could still feel the stabbing behind him. 'Yup, still there'
Then, curiosity got the better of him.
"...You find the person you were looking for?" he asked.
She took her time to answer, as though weighing the words. "No. But I'm still not done preparing for when I do"
He didn't reply. He knew the reason she stayed here, knew her past, knew her search. But it wasn't his place to judge… or to stop her.
"Hey…" he said softly. "I kind of left you alone back then too, didn't I? Got something cooked up for me as well?"
Her reply came quick, stabbing him like a sword. "You ain't worth shit and you know it"
But her voice dipped, almost swallowed by the hush of the room.
"...Still… thanks for staying when you could…"
"Hm? Got something else to say?"
But of course, he failed to catch it.
She stiffened. "Rrr… Argh! God damn it!"
The sudden outburst made Asteroid snap awake, jaws cracking open in alarm.
The girl's face flushed as she blurted. "I'm saying graduating wasn't your fault, damn it! You… motherfucker!"
Her frustrated voice bounced off the walls. But as the echoes died, embarrassment quickly overtook her anger. She turned her head, cheeks burning against her pale complexion, and tried to hide it behind her scowl.
For a moment, only the tick of the distant clock filled the silence.
Then, with a long sigh, she pushed herself to her feet. Asteroid stirred inher arms but didn't resist as she walked toward the door. Stopping just under the frame, she glanced back at Cifer—who was already falling asleep, his eyes drooping as he lay sprawled on the bed.
"...Anyway" she muttered, forcing her voice steady. "I'll be leaving once I'm done with my business. Until then, I'll be crashing here. And don't expect me to pay rent"
Her hand touched the door, ready to close it. But Cifer's voice drifted out lazily and fading, swallowed by his exhaustion.
"Heh… don't worry. I already got my payment" He turned over, his back to her, leaving the words hanging in the air.
She froze. It only took her a heartbeat to piece together what he meant. And when she did—
"Sh-shut up! You shit! That didn't count!"
BAM!
The door rattled on its hinges as she slammed it shut, her rosy cheeks hidden safely behind the wood. Heavy footsteps stormed down the halls, echoing with indignation before fading into the distance. A second door slammed somewhere in the house, muffled but clear enough to betray her flustered retreat.
Then came silence.
Within seconds, exhaustion claimed Cifer at last. He drifted into dreamless sleep, his breath soft and even as the pale moonlight slipped through the curtains and fell across his resting form.
Meanwhile, down the hall, the girl sat alone by the window of her own room. It was larger than Cifer's but emptier: it's queen-sized bed neatly made, the nightstand with a small lamp untouched, a desk sitting bare in the corner. The only thing that made it feel lived in was the open window, framing the quiet Toronto streets below.
She sat in the armchair, knees drawn up, her gaze fixed on the silent night outside. Her hand clenched tightly into a fist.
'I'll find her…'
—————————————————————————————
[A week ago, Bar Hop Brew Co.]
The rain rapped against the windows, steady but not heavy—just enough to keep patrons lingering inside the bar.
Midnight had come and gone, and with only an hour left until closing, the place was down to a handful of stragglers: groups of friends laughing quietly, office workers drowning stress in cheap beer, and a couple bartenders quietly keeping everything in order.
Cifer wiped down the bar top. Same as always. Peaceful.
That peace broke when a shaky hand tapped his shoulder.
"Uh—hey, Cifer" his coworker's voice trembled. "Ca-can you take that customer over there? I-I can't. They're scary, man"
Cifer turned, brow raised. "Scary?"
His coworker pointed toward the far corner. And there they were: a long figure, hunched against the window, hood pulled low, a crimson demon mask hiding half their face. Even stranger, there was a sword strapped to their back.
Cifer blinked. "...Really? It's probably some cosplay"
"I'm telling you" his coworker whispered, backing away. "They just scream bad news. They were also mumbling something, probably chanting some curse"
Cifer sighed, shelving the last of the bottles. "Alright, fine. You owe me"
He handed a bottle off, brushed past his nervous coworker, and made his way toward the masked stranger.
The closer he got, the easier it was to see why the others were spooked. The hoodie was close to an oversized robe, sleeves hanging loose, the crimson mask grinning fangs at anyone who dared look too long. The sword on their back gleamed faintly under the dim bar lights. It was hard to tell if it was fake or real.
Ahem.
Cifer cleared his throat when he got close.
The figure stirred.
Swish—
Then metal cut through the air.
But before the blade could meet flesh, Cifer's hand shot out, grasping the stranger's wrist mid-swing. The steel rattled against his collar, but his calm never wavered.
"We'd be troubled if you start swinging this around without care, customer" he said evenly.
The masked figure's hand trembled against his grip, trying—and failing—to break free.
"You…"
The voice was husky, but feminine.
The stranger pushed up from their seat, forced to look up at him.
'How… small' Cifer blinked down at them, not really expecting the stark difference in their height.
"Ah! She-hic-shenior?!"
The shout nearly startled him into letting go. The voice, though slurred, was one he knew.
One he'd never forget.
"...Rox?"
The figure froze. Slowly, with her free hand, she tugged down the mask and tossed back the hood.
Blonde hair, clearly dyed, tied into twin buns. Sharp eyes framed by smudged black markings underneath. And cheeks faintly flushed red.
ROXANNE RICHTER
24 YEARS OLD
STATUS: DRUNK AND TIRED
"Di'n't think I'd shee you here" she slurred, her words tumbling out in uneven breaths.
"...Same with you" Cifer muttered. "Haven't really seen you… since… I graduated… Haha…"
The awkward laugh only made him realize how true that was. He hadn't contacted her even once since then.
Guilt pricked at the back of his mind as he let go of her wrist. She promptly shoved her sword back into its sheath with a clumsy motion.
"Don' min', com'sheet here" Roxanne plopped back onto her bar stool, patting the empty one beside her with an exaggerated wave.
Cifer scratched his cheek. "...I don't know. I'm still working"
"Boo~~~ wha' a dow'ner~~~" she puffed her cheeks, leaning back against the counter "Can' even shay a bi' to cash op wid' an ol' fwend~~~?"
Cifer hesitated, head tilting as his eyes flickered toward his coworker behind the bar.
The guy gave him a subtle nod and a thumbs up, clearly mouthing. 'Go ahead. I got this'
With a sigh, Cifer turned back. Roxanne was already halfway through a mug of beer he hadn't even noticed in front of her.
"...Alright. I'll stay for a bit" he said, finally taking the seat.
"Yay~~~" Roxanne threw her arms up weakly before slamming her mug down, foam dripping onto the counter.
She immediately slumped forward, cheek pressed against the wood.
H'wv you bin an'way? Haven't h'ard from you s'n uh… College" she mumbled, words muffled by the table.
Cifer folded his arms. "Been the same. You? You were basically a mess before I graduated"
Roxanne groaned, but before she could answer, one of Cifer's coworkers quietly approached. He placed two glasses and a pitcher of cocktail on their table, then—after a brief glance between the two of them—also slid Cifer a bottle of vodka.
Cifer accepted with a nod, already resigned to a long night. He poured the alcohol in both glasses and nudged one toward her.
"Ohhh~ y'know" Roxanne lifted her head just enough to grab the glass. "Bee'n here, the're… I'm act'lly lookin' for someo' right now…"
"Still haven't moved on?" Cifer asked casually, opening his drink with a pop.
"Shu' the fu-fuck up… When I find her, I'll… I'll…"
But the words died in her throat. Instead, she tilted her head back and downed the drink in one go, gulp after gulp, as though she could swallow her frustration with it.
Cifer sat quietly, watching her through the rim of his own glass, sipping slowly while she slammed her empty one down with a resounding thud.
"Ah~~~" she stretched out the sound, grinning sloppily before waving a hand. "Anyway, 'nough 'bout her! S'not like she's the only thin' in my mind."
Cifer raised an eyebrow. "You've been chasing that girl for years. Don't you think it's time to… step back a bit?"
"Pshh~" Roxanne wagged a finger at him with exaggerated care. "Lik' you'unnerstand how I feel. When it cam' to hear'breaks, you look q'ite the ama…teur."
The jab was playful more than cruel, her drinking grin making it obvious.
Cifer simply shrugged. "Can't really deny that"
"Hehe~ Still~" She chuckled, tapping the counter with one finger. "Fo' someone sho well-liked you're qu'shit at romance."
"Hearing that from someone still hung up on a girl? Doesn't sound very convincing" Cifer smirked faintly,
"Hehehe…" Roxanne snickered, shoulder shaking. "Your tongue got sh'rper though, I'll give ya that."
Their banter rolled on, bouncing between teasing jabs and half-hearted insults. To anyone else it might have looked like nothing more than drunken bickering, but for them—it was a bit different. Each retort, each laugh, it was their way of reconnecting.
For the first time in years, it felt like they were back in those days when they were students—carefree, reckless, young. But now they weren't college kids anymore. They were adults, bearing scars and responsibilities, yet still clinging to the comfort of an old connection.
Time slipped by unnoticed. The bar emptied one group at a time, until only two of them remained. Cifer's coworkers had already left, the last guests gone, leaving him to close up shop alone.
—————————————————————————————
[3:00 am, Beaconsfield Avenue]
(Still a flashback)
The bar was long since locked up, its lights dimmed, yet Cifer and Roxanne's night stretched on. They strolled down Beaconsfield Avenue, the streets nearly deserted, save for the distant hum of a passing car.
Their laughter echoed against the darkened houses, sometimes lighthearted, sometimes fading into hushed tones when the conversation turned more serious.
Every so often Cifer would stop walking, leaning against a fence or wall as the dizziness from the alcohol caught up to him. Roxanne would simply pat his back, laughing despite the concern.
Neither of them complained. They didn't think the pauses were interruptions but part of the night.
Just another rhythm of their long-overdue reunion.
As the hours bled away, their energy waned. The chatter slowed, words softening into comfortable silence. Roxanne clung to his arm now, her own draped lazily over it for balance. Cifer, fighting his own vertigo, kept his place deliberately straight and slow.
Then, Roxanne spoke up, voice slurred but carrying a hint of excitement.
"Oohh right, 'fore I forg't. I'm act'ly lookin' into locashuns to build up my own art gallery."
Cifer blinked at the stars, then chuckled. "That's… honestly pretty impressive"
"Y'hafta vis't…" she insisted, tugging at his arm. "When it's open~~~"
"Sure, sure. Just let me know." he replied, smiling faintly.
Their steps grew heavier with the night, their intoxication catching up to them in earnest. Cifer's stomach lurched if he turned too fast, while Roxanne leaned more heavily against him, steadying her steps through him.
Finally, Cifer came to a stop without warning. Roxanne halted too, blinking at him in confusion before following his gaze.
Before them stood a large house. White-walled and imposing even in faint streetlights. Three stories tall at least, clean, quiet, much like the night.
Cifer let out a breathy laugh. "Well… haha… this is my stop"
He fished through his pockets, clearly searching for his keys, then glanced back at Roxanne with a sheepish smile.
"Wow~~~" her eyes widened as she took in the house. "You live here?"
"Well yeah…" Cifer replied casually, shoulders lifting in a shrug. "It's not bad. Been here for a while now."
Roxanne gave a slow nod, her lips tugging into a faint grin. "Well… guess I shoul' ge'going now then"
"Yeah. Take care of yourself" Cifer lifted a hand in a lazy wave.
She turned and walked back to the sidewalk, her footsteps soft against the pavement, eerily so.
Thud!
The sound made her freeze mid-step. Her heart spike, sobering her faster than a bucket of cold water.
She spun on her heel.
"Cifer?!"
There he was, sprawled face-first at the entrance of his own house.
Roxanne's mind blanked. Without a second though she dashed back, dropping to her knees beside him. Her hands trembled slightly as she rolled him over, relief only coming when she saw his chest rise and fall in steady breaths.
His expression was calm, almost stupidly peaceful, which only made her heart pound harder.
"...Hm?" Cifer groaned, clutching his head. "Shit… my head…"
He slowly pushed himself up, wincing. With his back against the doorframe, he sat there looking groggy and out of breath.
"Was I out long?" he muttered, as if this were just a casual nap.
Roxanne exhaled sharply, forcing her panic down. "Not even a minute"
She rose to her feet, then hooked her hands under his arm and hauled him up with surprising determination. He leaned heavily against her, his arm slung over her shoulders, her own wrapped tight around his waist.
Though his weight dragged on her with every step, she didn't let go.
Together they stumbled inside. Cifer shut the door behind them without bothering with the lights, and they staggered into the living room. Roxanne dropped him onto the couch, then collapsed beside him, both of them panting.
""You're fucking… Ha… heavier than I remember. Haha… Ha…" she wheezed, brushing her bangs out of her flushed face.
Cifer gave a crooked smirk, even as his head lolled back against the cushions. "Have I? Fuck… Didn't you as well?"
Roxanne shot him a glare before weakly punching his arm.
He didn't even flinch.
"Fuck off" she muttered, but there was no real venom in her voice.
"Wait a bit… ha…" Cifer leaned forward, clutching his head. "Let me rest my head…"
They both sank into the couch, breaths uneven—whether from the long walk or the sudden scare, neither of them could tell.
Roxanne leaned back, head tipped up toward the ceiling. Cifer's elbow braced on his knees as he rubbed his temples.
"Excuse me for a bit…" he reached toward the small lamp beside the couch.
The soft click filled the silence temporarily, and the white living room bloomed into a warm glow. The light spilled across his frame, casting a shadow over Roxanne like a cloak. He looked almost luminous with the lamp beside him, sweat tracing a sheen across his face and neck.
Cifer tugged at the knot of his tie, fingers fumbling until it came loose, the fabric slipping slack against his collar.
With a weary exhale, he leaned into the cushions, shirt clinging damply to his body. The fabric went near transparent in patches, revealing hints of the toned physique beneath.
Grimacing, he popped the top button of his shirt, the cloth parting just enough for Roxanne to glimpse a faint scar running across his chest.
Her eyes caught on it. Old. Unhealed. Something she had never seen in their college days.
And there—blackish markings, barely visible beneath the sleeve of his shirt. A tattoo?
She couldn't get a good look at it before her attention snapped back to the scar tracing down his abdomen.
She didn't even realize how long she'd been staring until—
"Something on my face?"
Cifer's dry voice startled her. Heat rushed to her face.
"Ahem" Roxanne coughed into her fist, forcing composure. "Uh… y-you good?
Her eyes darted anywhere but his.
Too exhausted to notice, or even care, Cifer only gave a half-nod. "Yeah… juthst not ust to bing this~ dead dunk"
His words slurred as he leaned forward again, resting his forehead against his palm.
"Heh~ how weak~" Roxanne teased, though her voice carried a fondness beneath the mockery. "I forgot what a terrible drinker you are~"
Cifer groaned, waving her off. "Oh, shut up… ha… just give me a sec…"
She watched him in silence, lips pressing together. Then, almost on instinct, she leaned forward.
"Hold on"
Before he could protest, her fingers brushed against his shirt, undoing his buttons one by one. Cifer sat still, too drained to resist, watching her through half-lidded eyes.
As the fabric fell open, Roxanne's breath caught. His frame was defined but not exaggerated, his strength more from discipline than strain. She remembered him being fit, sure, but never this… sculpted. He always dressed too much to hide it.
Her gaze drifted inevitably back to the scar, bold against his chest, running downward in a jagged line. Almost without realizing it, her hand reached out, fingertips tracing the roughened skin.
Cifer stiffened. The sensation drew a low murmur from him. "...This is… quite embarrassing, you know"
Roxanne's eyes flicked up, meeting his. For a heartbeat, neither of them looked away.
"When did this happen?" she asked softly, though she didn't expect him to answer.
His hand rose, gently wrapping around hers, stilling her movements against his chest. He looked down at the scar with a faraway expression.
"...Few years after I graduated" he responded quietly.
Roxanne realized just how little she knew about the years he had lived without her. The hardships, the scars—knowing him, he's probably worked himself over the edge more times that she's been drunk.
And yet, on the other side of that silence, Cifer wondered the same about her. What kind of life had she led in his absence.
"You know…" his voice broke through her thoughts. "...I still feel bad. For leaving you alone back then"
His eyes met hers, guilt reflected in their steel-gray depths.
"I told you…" Roxanne muttered, her tone quiet. "You shouldn't worry about that shit"
"Still" Cifer gave a crooked smile, almost boyish in its awkwardness. "Guess I feel a little guilty now that I'm reminded of it… ha…"
His laugh was thin, embarrassed, but the weight in his words lingered.
The room fell into silence once again. The dim light wrapped them in its glow, isolating them in their own world. Their breaths came heavy and uneven, both from alcohol and exhaustion. Their chests rose and fell almost in unison. Roxanne found herself staring into his eyes—the same color as her blade, so distant yet steady. And Cifer, in return, sank into the warmth of her chocolate-tinted gaze.
Neither spoke. The air between them thickened, the quiet heavier than any words could be.
"...Hold on a bit" Roxanne whispered.
She lifted her hand slowly, hesitating for a heartbeat before brushing her fingers against his cheek.
Cifer flinched at the sudden touch, but didn't pull away. Her thumb moved softly over his skin, trembling, as if memorizing the shape of his face. Her gaze didn't waver. She could feel his ragged breath spilling into the narrow space between them.
Cifer's hand moved instinctively. His left slid across the couch, brushing against her side before finding its way to her waist. Roxanne tensed at the unexpected contact, her body stiffening—yet she didn't move away.
He paused, sensing her hesitation, giving her the choice to stay or pull back.
And when she didn't… when her shoulders eased ever so slightly… he let his hand rest there, warm against her, before trailing lower. His fingers brushed at the curve of her back, a subtle pull that drew her a little closer.
In the heat of the moment, Roxanne leaned in, her breath brushing against his lips as she hesitated at the edge. Her eyes searched for his, trying to find even the slightest sign of rejection.
Instead, she found his gaze softening, his eyes steady on hers. He didn't pull away. His hand pressed against her back, drawing her in.
Roxanne let out a short, disbelieving scott. 'How cliche''
"Heh… just a bit" she whispered, almost to herself..
A last thread of hesitation clung to her, but only for a moment. Then, as though pushed forward by an unseen current, she closed the gap.
Their lips met in a sudden, heated kiss.
It was unsteady at first, a desperate clash, but the instant she felt the warmth of him against her, something inside her snapped loose. Her eyes fluttered shut, her body swayed closer, and a storm of long-buried emotions surged through her.
The taste of him, bitter with alcohol, drowned out the remnants of her doubt.
Cifer stiffened with surprise, but only for a heartbeat. Then, instinct took over. He deepened the kiss, his movements slow but growing more assured, his hand tightening against her back until their bodies pressed flush together.
Roxanne's grip on his shirt tightened, twisting the fabric in her fists. She pressed closer, as if trying to merge with him, her breaths catching between fevered kisses. Their lips parted only to hurriedly meet again, each contact sending rough jolts of heat racing through them.
Her soft gasps filled the dim room, mingling with his ragged exhaled until their breaths synced into a rhythm
Around them, the world blurred.
The tick of the grandfather clock in the corner.
The faint drip of rainwater outside.
The soft hiss of a reptile wandering on the floor.
None of it reached them.
Their world had shrunk to this single moment.
—————————————————————————————
[1:30 pm. The Next Day]
(Still a flashback)
Cifer stirred awake, the dim afternoon light filtering through the curtains stinging his tired eyes. His head pounded with a dull, rhythmic ache, every throb trying to get him the memory of last night's drinking.
"...Ts. Ah…" he groaned, running a hand through his tangled hair. His mouth was dry, his body heavy, and—
His eyes blinked open fully, focusing on his surroundings.
The room was a disaster. Clothes littered the floor like fallen leaves, scattered across the carpet and furniture. His usual tidy space had been reduced to chaos overnight.
Cifer sat up halfway, pressing a palm against his temple—only to freeze.
His bared torso was marked with faint red scratches, and faint imprints trailed across his skin. His breath caught as the haze fragments of last night's memories begann to stitch themselves back together.
"...Fuck" he muttered, the word as heavy as his body.
"Fuck…"
The voice came beside him, echoing his own almost perfectly.
Cifer turned, slowly.
There she was—Roxanne. Awake, sitting up against the sheets, hastily pulling the blanket across her chest as if it were armor. Her hair was tousled, her breathing uneven as well, and her body—like his—bore faint traces of the night before.
Their eyes met. Then they sighed in sync.
"...Fuck…" Cifer groaned again.
"...Fuck…" Roxanne echoed.
CIFER POWERS
ROXANNE RICHTER
AGE: 27 & 24
STATUS: THEY FUCKED UP