Chapter 3- Company

I awoke the next morning filled with dread, not wanting to face the day. My suspicions proved to be correct- I had overdosed on The Odd Men Out music. I'd played one of my favorite love songs, until I was practically physically ill. I hadn't been able to listen any longer, and had to turn it off mid-song. The Odd Men Out always changed up their set list and tweaked it for each crowd, so they didn't play this particular song absolutely every concert, but every concert that they did play it, Emery sang it for me, making eye contact with me almost the entire song. It would probably have been intense enough to make even the most hopeless romantic nauseous, but for us it was this private, beautiful moment we had shared, reminiscent of when we'd first met and the state I'd been in when he met me. I was mysterious and full of grey sky; sad yet transparent in my pain. He saw it all. No wonder I was so full of pain, worse than the pain of the aftermath of a divorce. Emery understood me, totally and completely. He intuitively could figure out what was paining me every step of the way until I got over it. The only reason we were apart was because of death. It was all so incredibly unfair. But then again, life was unfair. As I stared out at the chilly Washington morning, I began to miss Virginia so incredibly much. It had become my home the instant I moved there with Emery. I had no hesitations or difficulties letting it become a part of me; it was as easy as loving Emery. Now that he was gone though, I couldn't stay in Virginia to be reminded every day, and I couldn't very well go back to Michigan and be reminded of my failed marriage and the child I couldn't have. I took solace in my new home just outside of Seattle, which was also easy to love. It wasn't easy in the sense that it was a part of someone I loved, but it was easy to love because it was beautiful and serene where I lived nonetheless, as Virginia had been, and I happened to love rain, so it suited me well. I had loved rain well before I'd even met Emery. It had nothing to do with some metaphor for sadness and loving being alone and loving my depression. Rain actually healed me as well as the occasional sun I saw. I delighted in either one. Today was another glorious sunny day, but I couldn't even will myself to get out of bed. Wait a minute, bed? I sat up ramrod straight, and realized that I had fallen asleep on my couch under my afghan in the great room. After my moment in my room I had gone back downstairs to drink myself silly and fell asleep down there. I blew out what was left of the lavender candle, cursing at myself for letting it burn all night, and praising the heavens for the fact that the candle being almost gone was my worst travesty for the day- well that and a hangover. Now that I was no longer in mortal danger, I wanted to drown out the day. I'd had quite a bit of bourbon last night after I had listened to my music, and now I had a hangover and hated everyone and everything in addition to cursing my fate on a daily basis. I was too full of malice and my head was pounding too much to so much as even get up to make myself some coffee and eat something, so I pulled the afghan over my head, squeezed my eyes shut, and willed myself to die. To me it would be justice that I get to go too, if he had to go.

FUCK.

The pounding in my head was too much. I stumbled from the great room to the kitchen to get the rest of the bourbon. I knew it wasn't a wise way to deal with a hangover, and would only breed a stronger one later, and maybe even kill me, but I didn't care at that moment. I just wanted to make it all go away. I drank what was left in the bottle, then dropped it to the ground in anger, shards scattering all across the tile floor.

"Fuck, stupid fucking, fuckity…" I muttered to myself as I tiptoed around to get the vacuum cleaner, obsessive compulsively vacuuming until I was sure all of the glass shards were gone, and cursing doubly as much that I had been forced to vacuum at my own hand when I was in the middle of a half drunk, half hung over stupor. I felt like hell. Just as I was putting the vacuum away in the hall closet in the small foyer, the doorbell rang, causing me to jump and my heart to accelerate too much for me to handle at eight thirty in the morning. "Who the fuck…" I muttered. I didn't know any of my neighbors or anyone in the city besides my coworkers, and we weren't that close. I wasn't expecting anybody. I examined my clothing and hair in the mirror hanging on the left wall adjacent to the door. My hair that hung all the way down my back was tangled and looped in multiple places, with no recognizable part to speak of. My face still had marks in it from the seams of the couch cushions where they were divided. My baby tee had gotten rumpled in what was surely a fitful sleep, so I tore it off and stuffed it in the closet, revealing a simple black cami with lace. My PJ pants hung limply at my hips. I felt ridiculous, but knew that my unexpected visitor might be gone by the time I made myself presentable, so I just accepted that I might be botching my chance at keeping my job if it were my boss- thank God I worked from home and I didn't have to make many appearances at the office- and that I might be scaring off the mailman and never get my mail ever again. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at my relief and horror when I revealed to myself who my visitor. I felt relief because the visitor was not my boss or the mailman or someone who held bits of my life in their hands and could run away from me screaming vowing to terminate my employment or refuse me my bills, etc. out of fear, but horror because my visitor was a rather attractive man- perhaps I was delusional and imagining some handsome guy would just show up on my doorstep- who I would probably scare off, and who I wanted to stay for some reason, if only to have company for a moment.

"Hello. Forgive me and my lack of manners, turning up so early in the morning. Surely you weren't expecting company nor were you ready for a visitor," he surmised. "My name is Lucian. I live in the house behind you, so I'm technically your neighbor, and I thought I'd introduce myself and offer you my friendship since you're new to the Seattle area. I'm rather new myself, and I estimate that we could be a great help to one another learning our way around the city."

It was true, I had just moved here last week. I hadn't realized he was new to the city, too. I appraised Lucian as long as I could without being rude and appearing to be a mute by not responding; he was lean and rather muscular, and wore all black, his clothing slightly snug and clinging to his muscular form. His hair was a dark brown, and quite thick and long, down to his shoulders. It had a rather appealing wave to it, and he pulled the top portion of it back into a ponytail. He had a mustache and a short beard, not growing far past the contours of his jaw. His eyes were a piercing deep blue. They held a deep sadness in them as well as a bone-deep fatigue that I knew too well from bearing the sadness- the sadness I had seen yesterday afternoon, I realized- but they were soft and kind. He offered a smile full of a matching weariness, and the same kindness and soft expression. He had a low and gentle voice. Surely he saw how drunk and sloppy I looked, and yet his gaze only seemed to confirm what I'd sensed yesterday. We shared a kinship that he had also recognized in that instant, too. His face and eyes did not betray him; he passed no judgment on my drunkenness or my sloppiness. He knew it was a product of deep grief.

"Erm, hi. It's nice to meet you, Lucian. I'm Maya. It's really nice of you to come over and introduce yourself; I could use a friend in this big city."

He smiled a little wider this time. "As could I. I apologize that it's so early, again, and I apologize that it's so late, too."

"So late?"

"I waited a whole week since you've moved here to come."

"Oh, that's no big deal, really. I appreciate your coming here. I was a spastic mess anyway; unpacking boxes and what have you. It's unlikely I would have even heard the doorbell."

"My timing is impeccable then, I suppose. That's a relief. I wouldn't want to disturb you."

"No disturbance. I'm just saying I would have looked like I was ignoring you, which I wouldn't do on purpose."

"No, I wouldn't imagine you would. You're very personable." He smiled, and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Well um, come on in. I was just…"

"Making coffee to cover up the smell of the alcohol?"

"More like to cover the throb of my head," I retorted mildly good-naturedly.

He smirked. "I'm sorry, truly. I didn't mean to be offensive."

"I know. It was a funny remark, actually. I'm just extremely embarrassed with myself right now."

"Don't be. It seems like you had a very private moment last night that I'm intruding on the aftermath of, which is why I shouldn't have poked fun. Your sadness is not for my amusement."

"Please, intrude. The aftermath is probably less pretty than the private moment. And you made me smile. We all need to laugh at ourselves once in a while, right?"

Lucian smiled wryly. "So I was correct about the private moment. I suppose you're right, but just knowing you did have a private moment of sadness fills me with deep regret."

I said nothing in return, but looked at him appreciatively for his sensitivity and awareness of me. He'd known me for less than ten minutes and already he seemed to have the deepest respect for every emotion that passed through me. I really did appreciate his little remark though. It was the most light-hearted thing that had passed through this house since I'd arrived, and that I'd smiled at since Emery's death. I walked over to the coffee maker and poured in enough water and grounds of coffee for several, several cups for me and a few for Lucian, and turned it on.

"If I may ask, what brought you here to Seattle?" Lucian inquired politely.

"Oh, um…" I dropped my head solemnly. "I was…" I took a deep breath and tried again. "I was widowed about six months ago. I couldn't take the memories anymore, so I relocated with my job and got about as far away as I could get. Nobody told me that you can't get far away from your memories because they're right there all of the time." I didn't know why I added that last part in. It was true, but it sounded so lame, and like such common knowledge.

His eyes softened even more, and he looked straight into mine. "I'm so sorry. Truly, I am. That's a pain that no one should have to experience until two lover's times are close together. I am so very sorry." He continued to meet my gaze earnestly, his voice thick with condolence and understanding. I knew in that instant the gist of his story as well; he'd also lost a lover. He'd lost the one closest to him, too. He took my hand into his gently, and I was surprised how much the gesture moved me, and how it moved me. My eyes welled with fresh tears. I struggled to regulate and even out my breaths, and when I caught my breath and regained my composure, I returned his question. "And what brings you here?"

He was a bit more evasive than me. "I also lost someone close to me. She was taken from me unjustly. I felt I hadn't a cause in the world after some time to live for, so I also relocated."

"Death is about the most unjust event of life there is," I agreed, struggling through the difficulty to say the word "death." He nodded, staring straight ahead, seeming to be referring to some other injustice besides his love's death, and I didn't press further for meanings. He was in a lot of pain like me, and it wasn't easy to answer questions so much as it was to provide answers without questions that you yourself volunteer. His eyes were brimming over too, but they quickly brightened, as much as he could manage, as he turned to me. I realized my hand was still in his. I didn't pull away, but rather left it there, leaving it to him to release when he saw fit, as he had begun the gesture. He didn't release my hand, either. I gave his a tender squeeze, and he breathed a sigh at my own gesture.

We stood there for a few moments in miserable, but comfortable silence, both searching for words and sifting through memories.

"I think your coffee is ready," he said after a moment, releasing my hand. He gently stroked his index and middle finger up to my elbow, and smiled, not taking his eyes off of me. I smiled back, feeling such a deep comfort being in the presence of my backyard neighbor. I was so grateful for Lucian that there were no words how much I appreciated him from the instant I'd met him. I poured myself a cup and broke down into sobs. I wasn't sure if they were sobs of sorrow, or relief, or just plain release. I figured it was a combination of the latter two, for the moment at least.

"Please don't cry," Lucian whispered, taking me into his arms, stroking my hair. "Try to smile. I'll do whatever I can to make you smile." He drew me close to him, as tightly as he could manage, and embraced him back, so still in the arms of someone who cared. My sobs eventually died down, and I closed my eyes and breathed in the stillness of this moment. "You're going to be alright someday soon," he whispered softly. I accepted his words, believing the same words I'd heard a thousand times over for the first time since… that day. I was amazed how comfortable I felt with someone I'd just met, but the man who lived behind me shared so much in common with me from similar experiences that I felt I'd known him forever. Whatever words he would ever choose to speak of his own pain, I would understand, and whatever I spoke of mine, he understood. Such a deep kinship set me at ease with him at once. I forgot completely about the coffee and the bourbon and my hangover and even my sorrow for the moment as I held on to the kind neighbor who had walked into my life at the perfect time, and clung to the truth of this moment. His proximity to my home and his proximity to me were all I had to cling to right now.

A/N: The character of Maya is based on me, Alex, off of my husband, and we are not divorced. Misha is based off of my daughter, and Emery is based off of the front man of my favorite band, which I renamed to The Odd Men Out. If there's an accidental slip of Barry in there, it's supposed to be Emery, and I'm sorry if I missed anything. After I read the terms of service I changed the names to abide by the rules. I wanted to put him in my story because I have a mini crush on him. Okay, a big one. ;) And obviously I have a huge crush on Lucian. Just livin' the dream here. :)