Bakura was sitting at a small table, across from Marik, shifting in his seat and doing everything in his power to not reach over and rearrange the Egyptian's napkin and unused utensils. Naturally, he had already straightened out his own.
The blond had picked an Indian restaurant and was currently eating chickpea curry. He had chosen the tandoori chicken.
In between bites, they kept up light conversation, delving further into their lives.
"Is the woman you live with your girlfriend?" he asked for some reason.
"No, she's my roommate. I've been living with her since I moved to London. A student, too," Marik answered, mixing the curry with rice before taking another mouthful.
Bakura nodded in response and then remembered another detail he should probably address. "By the way, there is no contest. I made it up."
The blond looked up from his plate. A mixture of recognition, shock and distaste flickered across his face. "Well, now I definitely won't feel bad about getting wasted on your tab when I win the bet," he replied calmly with a vindictive bite.
Bakura smirked, expecting this sort of reaction from the rather feisty Egyptian when he wasn't being calculating...
"Jagger is that you?" a voice called out.
Oh bugger.
A middle aged man and woman approached their table. The man wore a mischievous smirk.
"It is you! God, you look young. I almost mistook you for some hooligan," the man heartily laughed at his own joke.
"Ha. You know, I am 24. So technically, I'm on the younger side," he replied blankly.
"What!? You are?" the man exclaimed.
"Oh, don't worry George. I'll be 25 soon," the smallest hint of sarcasm sneaked into his speech.
George turned to the woman accompanying him, "I've been working with him for over a year and I had no idea he was that young." His gaze returned to Bakura. "I thought you were closer to 28, Jagger. And you wear glasses, too?"
You've got to be kidding me.
"George, I've worn glasses to work half the time. You seriously never noticed? And stop calling me that," he replied begrudgingly.
"When you get to my age, you don't notice all the details quite as well. Maybe I'll need glasses soon myself," his co-worker smiled before, unfortunately, adding, "but Jagger rolls off the tongue so nicely."
The white haired man shot him a venomous look.
"You just can't get no satisfaction, huh?" George looked please with his own perceived cleverness, and the woman laughed.
Bakura groaned at the painfully annoying humour.
"This is my wife, by the way, Helen," George introduced the woman who reached out to shake hands.
"Please, call me Bakura," he replied, taking her hand.
He looked over to the confused Egyptian who had been quietly observing the exchange. "This is my friend, Marik," he politely contributed. Friend?
The blond and the couple exchanged brief pleasantries.
"Well, we better be on our way and let you finish your meal in peace," George finally said.
"It was nice meeting you boys," Helen added.
"Nice meeting you too," Bakura and Marik replied, nearly in unison.
"See you at the office tomorrow," his co-worker said.
The couple waved and departed from the restaurant.
Bakura turned to see Marik's questioning face. "One of my superiors at work," he filled in.
"He's very..."
"Annoying?" Bakura answered.
"I was going to say friendly."
"He's good-natured, but tiring," he explained.
"You don't get along with very many people, do you?" the Egyptian suddenly asked, amusement in his voice.
"Hey! I have some work friends. Just not George. And outside of work friends, obviously."
"Really?"
"Yes, I do actually," he replied.
"You said I was your friend earlier," Marik continued, his amused smile turning into a smirk.
"How else was I supposed to introduce you? Guy I have some fucked up bet with?"
Marik shrugged, looking bored with their exchange.
"Maybe if you're less of a wanker, then we could be...acquaintances," he felt compelled to admit.
"Whatever you tell yourself, Bakura," the blond smiled knowingly.
"How was your weekend, Bakura?" the receptionist asked.
Bakura stood by her desk, early Monday morning, sipping his coffee like he usually did. She, Natalie, was actually one of the few work friends he mentioned having to the disbelieving Egyptian.
She was organising stacks of papers on her desk, brown hair pulled back into a bun, as she conversed with him.
It was their daily ritual.
"Awful. I have this..." How in the world would he explain the bet with Marik? Little less, not sound like a total lunatic. They knew of his tidy desk, but everyone else has thus far been oblivious to all his other anxious habits...and rather vindictive caught himself, "I'm helping some wanker move and it's taking much longer than expected. Plus, I saw George yesterday."
She gave a sympathetic look at the news. "Have you heard from your brother yet?"
"Oh yeah. He's arrived safely. Won't be back until the end of the month. How was your weekend, Nat?"
"Went to a party with Declan, got into an argument again, and now we're broken up," she shrugged.
He raised a questioning eyebrow.
"I mean it this time, Bakura! I am not getting back together with him. Not anymore," she replied resolutely.
Glancing at the clock, he realised there was only 10 minutes left until work time officially began, and even fewer minutes until George typically arrived. "Hate to cut this short, but I'm going to hide."
"Lucky bastard," the receptionist replied, not looking forward to her morning greetings with the overbearing man. Unlike Bakura, she had to interact with everyone in the office throughout her work day.
Sitting down at his desk, he ran a hand through his hair and yawned, another dissatisfying sleep leading to an exhaustive morning.
He pressed the start up button on his computer and waited, taking sips of his caffeine fix, scanning his desk for any misplaced item that could be...organised.
He was suddenly jerked out of his daze by his beeping mobile.
Reaching into his pocket with a sigh, he was surprised at its source. Marik.
[WANKER:
Hey
Are you free Wednesday for your crazy inspection?]
[REPLY:
Yeah I can do then.
He paused for a moment, before deciding to add more.
Why are you up so early?]
[SEND]
He seldom woke up early unless he had class during his student days... A prompt beep notified him of a response.
[WANKER:
It's not that early. I have an appointment.]
Bakura wanted to know more, but decided against it, placing his mobile on his desk.
Bakura sat in his sleep clothes, a cup of tea on his coffee table.
He told himself for the millionth time that he wasn't being a stalker as he searched Instagram for Marik Ishtar. This is perfectly normal.
The only sounds heard were tapping on his mobile screen...until the telltale sound of a DM pulled him out of his reveries.
Oh fuck me. He had forgotten to appear offline again. Rolling his eyes, he typed up a very half-assed excuse about just heading off to bed before promptly turning off the chat feature.
Why do I even have this bloody thing? Who are all these people anyway?
His own profile was rather sparse, and existed solely from his younger days when everyone was into this online friend building harem. After many requests, he finally caved and made one, appeasing the masses.
Okay, now to find you, Marik Ishtar-
This time his text messages produced the beep.
[WANKER:
Hey
Sorry, but I need to change plans again.
Something came up, Thursday alright?]
[REPLY:
Sure. What time?]
[SEND]
[WANKER:
I only have afternoon classes that day.
The last one ends at 4. After that?]
He thought it over for a minute. It could take hours...
With a sigh, he typed.
[REPLY:
I guess I can come straight from work.
I finish at 5.]
[SEND]
[WANKER:
Where do you work again?]
Why the hell does that matter?
[REPLY:
I work in Kaiba Corp Plaza.
You know it?]
[SEND]
[WANKER:
Yeah, it's kinda on the way.
I could meet you there.]
He frowned.
[REPLY:
I know the way.
You don't have to.]
[SEND]
[WANKER:
That's cause you're a stalker.
I don't mind.]
Pages of Mariks, and Ishtars, and sometimes even Marik Ishtars were open on another app.
He quickly closed the app and ended his ridiculous search for Marik's profile.
It wasn't stalking! Everyone does it...sometimes. Natural curiosity.
In his bid to reassure himself against his losing battle, he had forgotten to reply. A beep notified him of a new text.
[WANKER:
Don't start pouting.
It was a joke...that held a lot of truth.]
[REPLY:
Sod off Marik.
I was distracted for a moment.]
[SEND]
[WANKER:
By what?
I'm nowhere near.]
How painfully true the irony of his reply was.
[REPLY:
You're not that hot you wanker.]
[SEND]
He absentmindedly took a sip of his tea, successfully distracted by this sudden texting banter.
[WANKER:
Then what was more important than me?]
He snorted at the very unsurprisingly cocky reply.
[REPLY:
You're so humble.
Instagram.]
[SEND]
[WANKER:
I never found those apps to be that interesting.]
This response was intriguing to Bakura for it meant the possibility of two things.
One: Marik may have more depth than he had assumed.
Two: He probably didn't have an Instagram profile after all.
[REPLY:
Humour me.
What better things should I be doing with my time?]
[SEND]
[WANKER:
Me.]
He choked on his tea, nearly causing a mess.
[REPLY:
Wtf Marik]
[SEND]
[WANKER:
Your face must have been priceless.]
[REPLY:
Goodnight you twat]
[SEND]
[WANKER:
Goodnight Jagger :)]
[REPLY:
Go fuck yourself]
[SEND]
Is he...or is he not...-"Bakura!"
He snapped out of his haze, cigarette perched between fingers. Natalie had been talking to him.
"What's with you today?" she shook her head, clearly unimpressed.
"Sorry, a lot on my mind." It was a rather lame, semi-truthful excuse.
"As I was saying, because you asked, no I did not return any of Declan's calls or attempts at rekindling our doomed relationship. I meant it this time; we are done." She brought her own fag to her mouth, taking a deep drag.
They were on their smoke break, like every other person outside in the small business plaza at this time.
"That's good. You're better off without him," he agreed, automatically inhaling his own cancer stick.
"So, what's on your mind?" the brunette attempted to get out of him.
Should he tell her? Tell her an edited version?
"It's nothing. Just...when someone jokingly hits on you, like someone you'd never expect to be interested in you, and they do it rather consistently...is it still a joke deep down?" he tried to vaguely explain, ineffectively.
"Um, I don't know. Are you both still teenagers?" she smirked. He laughed at that, feeling foolish for even contemplating taking Marik seriously.
[WANKER:
Are you wearing a navy blazer today?]
Bakura's eyes widened at the text. He spun around, confirming that the Tube station was completely devoid of Marik Ishtar.
[REPLY:
Where are you?]
[SEND]
[WANKER:
On the tube that just passed your stop.]
[REPLY:
And you saw me?]
[SEND]
[WANKER:
Big white hair is hard to miss.]
[REPLY:
So is this revenge?
Are you stalking me now?]
[SEND]
He smirked, feeling clever, finally able to turn that accusation against Marik.
[WANKER:
Totally. Tonight I'll be looking through your window.]
He frowned, his words clearly not having the effect he'd expected.
[REPLY:
Just my luck that I get a wanker for a stalker.]
[SEND]
[WANKER:
Hey at least I'm a good looking stalker.]
[REPLY:
You keep telling yourself that.]
[SEND]
His lungs burned as he was running through a forest, fear suffocating him, too afraid to look behind. It could have been anywhere. He didn't want to assume he was safe...
He blindly reached for his mobile, desperately wanting to turn off the alarm.
Another bad dream, another bittersweet sleep, another exhausting morning, another boring day of drafting that preliminary report...
There was a text waiting for him.
Upon seeing the name, a small smirk appeared on his lips, unnoticed by himself.
Somehow, his fatigue just got a little more bearable. No.
[WANKER:
Dream of me?]
A tired laugh threatened to escape his mouth.
[REPLY:
You're way too full of yourself.]
[SEND]
[WANKER:
Well, you know, I was stalking you all night.
Looked like quite the dream, so naturally I thought it would involve me.]
He rolled his eyes.
[REPLY:
Actually you were in my dream. I think I was running away from you.
You can be such a scary thing.]
[SEND]
[WANKER:
Well I dreamt of you.
You were in my room searching for your book.
I thought it was real until I realised that wasn't until tomorrow.]
He was intrigued by this, but suspicious from experience with this twat.
[REPLY:
That's it? I wasn't doing anything else?]
[SEND]
[WANKER:
You kept rearranging my stuff.]
[REPLY:
Ha. Very funny.]
[SEND]