Chapter Eight
Salis shut the door behind him with a soft click, the heaviness of the night settling in as the silence of his apartment enveloped him.
The dim light from the hallway seeped through the crack beneath the door, but the apartment itself was dark, save for the muted glow of the street lights filtering through his window. He kicked off his shoes, feeling the cool floor through his socks, and he dropped his bag onto the couch.
The quiet was suffocating. It always was after a shift, when the energy of the cafe faded and the loneliness crept back in.
He stood there for a long moment, just listening to the silence. His stomach growled again, and he winced, pressing a hand to it instinctively.
The growl was sharp, uncomfortable, and Salis hated how weak he felt. He wasn't sure if it was the lack of food, or the fact that Lael's offer still echoed in his mind. 'Stay at my place'. It wasn't a big deal, Lael had said. But it sure felt like one.
The thought of going kept poking at him, like an itch Salis couldn't scratch. He could have just gone with him, just taken the offer. But there was something about it that felt too vulnerable. He wasn't sure if he was ready for that kind of closeness.
The ideas of being seen fully, of someone noticing the little things that he always tried to hide, made his skin crawl. He wasn't used to it.
People didn't really care about him, so why did Lael seem to care so much? Was it just because they worked together? Or was it something more?
His gaze flickered to the fridge, but he didn't bother opening it. He didn't feel like eating anymore. He never really did after long shifts. It always felt pointless.
He exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead as all of his worries settled on his shoulders. The apartment felt too empty tonight. The quiet was almost too loud.
Salis glanced at his phone—no messages. He hadn't expected any, but the silence still felt like a reminder of how alone he was. There was a time when he'd have gone to bed early, buried under the covers, pretending the world didn't exist. But tonight, it felt different. The thought of going to sleep with that unsettled feeling sitting in his chest didn't feel right.
It wasn't just the hunger, or Lael's words. It was everything. Everything felt a little too real tonight.
He reached for his jacket hanging by the door, still unsure what he was going to do. Maybe he'd take a walk. Maybe he'd head to the store.
But then his phone buzzed in his hand, startling him. The message was simple, short.
'I'll be up for a while. Just letting you know in case you change your mind! If not, sleep well Salis :)' read a text from Lael. He'd almost forgotten when Lael had asked for his number days prior when he had helped Salis get home.
He stared at the screen for a moment, the words feeling heavier than they should. Something about it—the simplicity, the warmth behind it—made his chest tighten. It wasn't anything special, but it meant something. Lael wasn't just being polite. He genuinely seemed to care. And that scared the hell out of Salis.
His fingers hovered over the screen. Then, without really thinking about it, he typed a quick response.
'You too.
Thanks.'
He set the phone down on the counter, sighing heavily. It felt like a polite way to end the conversation, but it also felt like something was missing. Like there was something he should have said.
Something more.
Maybe it was just in his head. Maybe Lael didn't care as much as Salis was imagining.
But then again, maybe he did.
He threw on his jacket and moved towards the door, but stopped just short of opening it. The thought of heading back out into the night felt like too much effort. The chilling air outside wouldn't fix the emptiness that was clawing inside of him. And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was pulling him—something to do with Lael.
He turned back toward the couch, sitting down slowly. The clock ticked quietly in the background, marking the minutes that passed. And then suddenly, he was running down the steps, already out of his apartment, the door slamming behind him.
As he stepped outside, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out, seeing that it was another message from Lael.
'No problem.' There was a little smiling angel emoji at the end of the sentence which made a smile tug at Salis's lips.
Perfectly fitting for Lael.
Salis looked at the phone, trying to catch his breath. The short run alone had left him winded, the edges of his vision spotted with little dark speckles. He stood there for a long minute.
And then, without another thought, he typed one last message:'
'I'm on my way.'
He hit send before he could second-guess himself.
The cold wind blew against his skin, but there was a warmth growing inside him that had absolutely nothing to do with the weather. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he knew one thing: for the first time in a long time, he wouldn't be alone tonight.
Meanwhile:
Lael paced back and forth through his living room for the fourth time. He folded his arms over his chest, wondering.
Should I just call him? Make up some excuse to try to get him to come over?
Lael grimaced, realizing just how creepy that sounded. Just as he'd sat down on the couch, his phone buzzed and he quickly unlocked it. As soon as he saw the text, he exhaled the large breath that he had been unconsciously holding in.
'I'm on my way.'
"Oh, thank god," he said aloud to himself as he hopped back up and headed to the kitchen to finish cooking.
+++
The walk to Lael's apartment felt like it took forever. Salis's mind raced with a thousand questions, each one more suffocating than the last. Was he doing the right thing? Should he have just stayed home? What would Lael even think of him showing up this late? He hadn't exactly been subtle with his discomfort earlier in the day, so why was he now, at this hour, making the decision to accept his offer?
The thought of going back to his apartment and shutting everything out seemed like the easier choice.
As per usual.
It always did. But there was something about Lael's kindness, the way he didn't force but still somehow managed to make Salis feel like maybe—just maybe—he wasn't a complete lost cause. That made Salis's chest feel warm.
He hadn't had someone care like that before. No one who asked if he was eating, if he was okay. No one who noticed enough to care, who saw the little signs that he had carefully tried to keep hidden. And yet, Lael did and didn't judge him for it. Something about being around him made Salis feel both safe and vulnerable all at once.
By the time he reached Lael's building, his palms were sweating, his breaths quick. What if Lael expected too much? What if he made Salis talk about things that he wasn't ready to face? What if he didn't want to be around someone like Salis at all once he realized what kind of person he was?
He paused a the door, his hand hovering over the buzzer. He could feel the nervous twisting in his stomach, the growing heat in his cheeks, and the way his heart beat a little faster than usual.
What are you doing, Salis?
His mind was racing, pushing him to reconsider, to just turn around and leave. But his feet were already moving before he could stop himself. He knocked lightly on the door, twice, and then took a small step back.
The seconds stretched longer than they should have. Was Lael already in bed? Was this a stupid idea?
Before he could talk himself out of it, the door opened. Lael stood there in a casual T-shirt and sweatpants, his expression soft.
"Hey," he said, leaning against the doorway, his voice holding that usual tinge that drew Salis closer. "You made it."
Salis felt his stomach do a flip at the sight of Lael. He wasn't sure why, but it wasn't just the nervousness—it was the way Lael looked at him. There was no expectations, no pressure. Lael didn't seem at all surprised or put off by Salis's appearance, and yet Salis still felt out of place. He hadn't dressed for this. Hadn't planned ahead for this.
"I… um, yeah," Salis stammered, feeling the weight of the awkwardness start to settle over him. "I wasn't sure if you were still up or—"
"I'm always up." Lael's grin was effortless, the same smile that made Salis's heart feel a weird fluttery feeling. "Come in, come in. It's cold out there."
Salis hesitated, but before he could back out, Lael stepped aside to let him in. The warmth of the apartment hit him immediately, and for a moment, Salis just stood there in the doorway, his hands nervously tugging at the sleeves of his jacket. The space was cozy—dimly lit with soft yellow-orange lamps casting a comfortable glow around the living room. There was the a scent of something cooking in the air, subtle but pleasant.
"So, uh," Salis muttered, still feeling bashful. He stepped into the entryway, careful not to bump into anything, still unsure of where to put his hands or feet. "What… do you want me to do?"
Lael raised an eyebrow, though his smile didn't falter. "You don't have to do anything. You're the guest. Just make yourself at home. Can I get you anything? Water, tea, juice?"
Salis glanced around the room, feeling almost too conscious of everything—the way he stood, the way his stomach was still growling but he didn't want to draw attention to it. "Uh… I guess water would be fine."
Lael gestured to the couch, and Salis awkwardly moved toward it, sitting at the very edge like it might swallow him whole if he relaxed even the tiniest bit. Lael, however, moved easily through the space, setting about making them both something to drink. The soft clinking of cups and the occasional sound of something bubbling on the stove made Salis's thoughts drift, despite how he didn't want them to.
The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable, but it made Salis self-conscious. Every little noise he made felt too loud. Terrifying. His stomach growled loudly again and he felt the heat rise in his face as he tried to cover it with a cough. But Lael, with his ever-present attentiveness, caught it immediately.
"You okay?" he asked, not turning away from the stove, but his voice was concerned, like he was really listening.
Salis blinked, his mouth dry. He'd been trying to ignore the sound, but it seemed to be the only thing his body was capable of.
"I'm fine," he said quickly, his voice a little too defensive. "It's nothing."
Lael's gaze flickered to him for a moment, and there was a slight pause as if he was deciding how to respond. "It doesn't sound like nothing," he said simply, with no hint of judgment in his tone. "You're hungry, right?"
Salis flinched at the word, his hands twisting in his lap. He didn't know how to explain why food felt so complicated for him. Why eating something simple like this felt so hard.
He didn't want to explain it.
"I—" Salis started, but his throat felt like it was closing up. He didn't want to admit it, didn't want to have to talk about how empty he'd felt the entire day, how his stomach was an empty pit he didn't know how to fill. He wanted to get through this without Lael knowing too much.
But Lael didn't push. Instead he placed a glass of water on the coffee table in front of Salis and sat down on the armrest of the couch next to him, close but not too close, trying to give him room.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Lael said quietly, his voice careful. "But just know that it's okay if you're hungry. I'm here to help. Not judge."
Salis swallowed, but he couldn't help but notice the softness that crept through at Lael's words. There was nothing demanding or forceful about how he spoke—just an understanding that Salis hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe it wasn't so bad, being here.
Maybe I can…
His thoughts trailed off as for the first time that night, he felt himself relax, just a little. He took a sip of the water Lael had given him, savoring the coolness, and then looked up at Lael, who was watching him quietly.
"I guess… I guess I'm not used to this," Salis admitted bashfully, his voice almost a whisper. "Not used to people noticing when I don't… eat."
Lael gave him a small, understanding smile. "You don't have to be used to anything right now. We can always work our way up to it."
Salis nodded slowly, felling the tension in his body ease just a fraction, the weight of his usual defenses starting to crack in Lael's calm presence.