The very next day Ib showed up outside Garry's apartment with a bulging knapsack. Ringing the buzzer with his name on it, she didn't have to wait very long before his voice sang out over the intercom. "H-hello?" he called out uncertainly. It didn't sound like he received very many visitors. "Garry, it's me Ib! I came to see you!"
"Ib!?" Now Garry sounded downright incredulous. "Hold on a minute, I'll be right down. Sure enough, not long afterwards his silhouette appeared in the doorway. "Ib, what are you doing here? Did you come here all by yourself?"
"Mmhmm!" Ib gestured to her knapsack. "I brought you something! I thought I'd make you soup to help you get better." She looked at his cast and crutches sympathetically. "I'm not quite sure that works for broken bones…" Garry rationalized, but stopped himself upon seeing Ib's crestfallen face. "But I'm sure it will taste great!"
Ib could hardly contain her excitement as they rode the elevator up to Garry's floor. She wanted to hear about everything he'd been up to, and told her all about what she'd been doing too. Garry was impressed when he heard she'd been doing so well in school, and glad that she'd been getting along with her classmates. Ib surprised herself when she asked Garry if he had a girlfriend. He seemed startled at first, but then chuckled and said no which made Ib feel strangely relieved.
Garry's apartment was bright and open with windows Ib imagined let in a lot of light on a sunny day (it was cloudy out, so Ib was supposing.) The first thing Ib noticed was a guitar propped up on the far wall. "Ooh!" Ib gasped. "You can go take a look if you'd like," Garry said kindly, noticing her interest. Placing her shoes neatly out of the way, she happily did just that.
Ib had never played an instrument before, although she really enjoyed listening to classical music. Moving her fingers tentatively across the strings she enjoyed the crisp, clean sound they produced. Trailing her hand over the smooth wooden surface of the guitar, a flash of colour caught her eye. "Oh, this is…"
"Ah!" Garry blushed scarlet as Ib traced her finger along the red rose stencil. She wondered why he hadn't done a blue rose instead, since that had been the colour of his own rose. But for some reason it made her happy. "It's very pretty," Ib breathed, smiling shyly. Garry cleared his throat. "S-so, what do you say we get started on making that soup?"
It didn't take long before they had a nice broth bubbling and a pleasant smell wafting through the apartment. Ib added ingredients bit by bit (she had brought a variety since she didn't know what the soup Garry liked best) and although Garry offered to be of more help, Ib insisted she do the brunt of the work herself. "Just be careful, okay?"
When it came time to cut up the carrots and onions they divided the task between them. Garry showed Ib how to peel the carrots and then set to work chopping up the onions himself. Ib was very careful cutting up the carrots, but nevertheless she accidentally cut the end of her finger. "Oh!" A tiny drop of blood began pooling at the end of her finger, so she stuck it in her mouth to stop the blood.
"Oh no, Ib!" Garry exclaimed, hobbling off on his crutches to find his first aid kit. "Band-aids…band-aids…" he mumbled as he was rummaging. "Aha! Here they are." Taking Ib's hand in his own Garry gently doctored her finger before giving it a little kiss. "All better," he said bashfully.
The soup turned out to be very good despite some improvisation on Ib's part. "You're quite the chef!" Garry remarked after he'd had a few spoonfuls. "You're going to make someone very happy someday." Ib tilted her head quizzically at him. "What do you mean?" Garry froze. "Er, ah, nothing."
Outside the sky turned darker and before long rain could be heard beating against the window pane. "Rain again?" Garry remarked as he cleared off the table. Casting a glance over at the clock, he frowned. "What time was your mom expecting you home, Ib?" Not that I really want to send her home in this deluge, he thought. "I told her I was spending the night at a friend's," Ib replied. "Ah, I see." Pausing for just a moment, Ib added: "Is that okay?"
"Is what okay?" Garry asked wonderingly as he made his way over to the sink. "Me spending the night with you." Garry nearly dropped the dishes he was carrying. "You meant here!?" he asked incredulously. Ib bit her lip, looking down at her hands. "Is that…not okay?" Garry sighed. "As happy as I am that you came to see me Ib, spending the night just wouldn't be a good idea. I mean, I am a guy after all…and we would be all by ourselves."
Ib looked puzzled. "We were by ourselves at the gallery for a while." "That's not what I meant." A moment passed between them in silence as Garry tried to figure out how he'd explain it to her. After a few fumbling attempts he settled with: "It's just a bad idea! You wouldn't usually hang out with other guys by yourself, right?" Ib shook her head solemnly. "Nope! Garry's the only one." At this Garry was rendered speechless again. "Please?" Ib pleaded endearingly. Garry could feel his resolve wavering. "Oh, all right." "Yay!" Ib jumped up and threw her arms around Garry's neck, planting a kiss on his cheek.
They spent the evening quietly, but it was obvious they were happy just being together. After they had talked together for a little while Garry brought out some desserts and started boiling water to make tea. Remembering her encounter from the other day, Ib politely declined Garry's offer and asked for milk instead. Ib was surprised when Garry brought out a lemon slice and started squirting it into his cup. Seeing Ib's wide eyes, Garry chuckled and explained that you could add all sorts of flavours to teas to improve the flavour, like honey or lemon. Ib nodded slowly, resolving to try this trick for herself before giggling to herself.
"It's funny you like lemons so much, Garry," she remarked, eyeing his attempts to drain the lemon slice of every last drop of juice. "Hm? Why is that?" "Because lemons taste so sour, but you're so sweet!" She remarked innocently. Garry spluttered on his tea in surprise, flushing bright red. "I-is that so?"
"Hm?" Ib tilted her head to one side, examining Garry's face. "Garry, your face is red. Do you have a fever?" Leaning over, Ib used her hand to brush away their bangs and rested her forehead on Garry's as her mother had often done for her. "WAAAAUGH!"
Ib thought Garry was behaving in a very peculiar fashion when he excused himself to get napkins to clean up his spilt tea. "Oh r-right! I almost forgot." Reaching into his pocket he procured Ib's handkerchief. Frowning slightly, Garry confessed: "There is one spot I couldn't get clean…" Feeling the lace border with her thumb, Ib noticed the spot Garry mentioned. "It looks like a rose petal!" Ib remarked distractedly. Seeing as the mark didn't bother her, Garry smiled. "I thought so too."
As the storm raged on outside, Garry asked Ib if she'd like him to play music for her, to which she nodded enthusiastically. Garry's music was unlike any Ib had heard before. It was thoughtful and kind, and a little bit sad too. It was a very soothing sound, and Ib felt like she could go on listening to it forever. But before long her eyelids began to droop, and as she nestled into Garry she fell fast asleep. Giving her a loving smile, Garry leaned in and planted a kiss on her forehead, whispering: "Goodnight, Ib."