He Is The First One To Think So

Forget what he had ever thought about this place before. Hearth was the perfect place to live. The absolute perfect place.

For an author, anyway. For someone who needed any sort of inspiration. Certainly in other cities, people would sit in coffee shops and the like, staring out the window and trying to eavesdrop on other people's conversations to become sort of a behaviorist so as to write realistic characters. But that had nothing on this. Nothing at all. Toris had quickly learned that a small town, in which everybody practically knew everybody, and small dramas were blown out of proportion by one person or another, was the best way to get anything.

He picked up on the strangest character quirks and the strangest string of occurrences here. Feliks' stories went from hilarious to being the insight to this town. Toris knew that even if no one else ever saw this book he was writing, he would never throw it out. Never. It really had too much in it in only a matter of weeks, but it would stay alive forever. If just for him.

"Hey Toris! Am... I interrupting something, eh?"

Toris looked up, quickly closing the book. "Matthew! No, you aren't interrupting anything..." He gestured for Matthew to take a seat next to him on the bench (one of the very few in town) and Matthew obliged him. "Just writing in my journal, but I'm done."

Toris liked Matthew. Which was why he was not certain whether to be happy for Ivan or concerned about either of their well being. Not that he could judge, not at all, so he should not even think about it...

"Everything all right?" Toris asked, most likely to spite himself. Matthew nodded, then seemed hesitant.

"Feliks... doesn't like Ivan much, does he?"

"Feliks either hates you or loves you, there doesn't seem to be any middle ground," Toris laughed. "Not to say he can't say you're being stupid either way. It's just the principle of the thing."

"Wow, that's... awkward," Matthew blinked. Toris shook his head.

"Not really. It's Feliks! He..." He tried to think of a way to describe the other. One that sounded nice and accurate, not just accurate. "Is honest. Not too many people you can say that about."

"Actually, I think that is a more common trait here, eh," Matthew frowned, looking around. "How long have you been friends with him?"

Toris' first reaction was to say 'we're not friends!'. Then he realized that Matthew was still talking about Feliks. And then he found himself wondering why they were talking about Feliks when Feliks was just as likely to answer any question Matthew put to him. Unless Matthew already had spoken with Feliks...

Great. Now Toris was making himself paranoid. He thought he had mostly gotten over that. His psychiatrist had had great hopes for him.

"We grew up together, until he moved here. He often came to see me still... which is how he somehow convinced me to come and live here for a while."

"That's great, eh... I don't think I talk to any of the kids I used to know."

"Alfred?"

Matthew thought about it. "I... don't remember much, eh. He and Arthur left when I was really young." He shook those thoughts from his head, seeming to backtrack to whatever his point was. "Ivan is a bit pushy... so is Feliks. I can see how they would simply just not get along."

"You'd be surprised," Toris sighed, leaning back on the bench. "Feliks and Elizaveta are great friends and they butt heads all the time." He blinked, the questions sinking in. "Is there something wrong?"

"What? No!" Matthew waved it off. "I was just curious... you know a little more here than I do, eh!"

Toris dropped the subject, but only out loud. It made him think Matthew had spoken with Feliks. Feliks usually did not hide things, but if he was planning something, especially to do with Ivan...

Toris just wanted to know. Every time Feliks planned something the world was turned upside down. And anything more than the wedding preparations at this might just make it explode.


Notes:

The words in the second paragraph is not how I do my writing. No way, I do not go to coffee shops. I close myself up in my parents' basement and watch anime and read sci-fi/fantasy books.

And yes, Toris writes the old fashion way. With paper and pen! I miss that wonderful way of writing– oh wait, I do not. I still do that. Everything is good.