Declan
The moment Mal left me I felt partially relieved that I didn't have to put up a brave face anymore. I knew he understood why I was here but I couldn't let him know how much I wished the world had made it possible that I would never be put in this position.
I stared at the boxes Mal had placed on the desk, my travelling bag and two duffle bags. This was all I had left. All I was willing to take when I left New York behind. I sold everything.
The car, the apartment and the furniture. I knew I was a coward to run away but I didn't want to remember. I didn't want to remember a thing because there wasn't a corner of my apartment that didn't hold a memory. The coffee shop downstairs and the supermarket that I could spend hours in just for an excuse to be out of the apartment longer.
New York held so many memories I wanted to forget. This was better off but worse at the same time. Mal was understanding. He didn't pity me the way everyone else did. He didn't make me feel like I would be okay. He knew that I wouldn't and didn't push me to heal faster.
He didn't give me sympathetic talks and try to understand what I felt. He knew that he hadn't or couldn't imagine what I felt or what I was thinking, therefore he didn't try to.
He simply accepted me and that was it. He extended his home out for me even though we had only met a handful of times. Yet he probably knew that this was what I needed. Giving up sky rise buildings for sky rise trees was better.
Much better for me.
I sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled out my phone from my pocket. No missed calls or texts. Not that I cared because it was the way I preferred it, but it just proved that even though my world was currently standing still, everyone else was moving on with their lives. Still had their own worries and stresses.
The flight wasn't long but I felt gross from being in the plane. I always hated flying, especially when the weather was bad. The news had been filled with too many plane crashes and I wouldn't be lying if I wondered if I was one of the unlucky ones.
With a sigh I stood up from the bed and started unpacking my main bags. The others I would deal with at a later time. I took out a few tracksuits and packed the rest in the closet, followed by sneakers, shirts, underwear and socks.
I took out my toiletries with a pair of boxers before I went to the bathroom. Definitely a better upgrade than what I was used to. I undressed before stepping into the steamed shower. I scrubbed myself until I didn't smell like the leather seats inside the plane or the ham sandwich of the man who was seated next to me.
When I was done I moisturized, and wore my boxers before I walked back to the bedroom. White shirt and black tracksuit with bear slippers seemed like a good outfit for me before I headed down.
The smell coming from the kitchen had my mouth watering. Home cooked meals were a luxury when I had a day off. My stomach was already rambling when I stepped into the kitchen. Mal was there with a linen apron as he stirred a tomato 'something' sauce with a mix of pasta.
There was a bottle of wine already at the dining table with two glasses. The table was already set with silver expensive cutlery and napkins.
"I hope you like Italian," he looked up to me with a small smile, "the weather definitely needs comfort food."
"I love Italian," I smiled. It felt awkward just to watch him cook whilst I just sat around. Even though I was useless in the kitchen, I didn't like to just be served. "Anything you need help with?"
"You can take the sweet buns out of the oven for me," he tilted his head to the two ovens on his right. "I'm sure they must be just right now."
"Sure," I grabbed oven mitts and put them on before I pulled the doors of the oven open. The smell of them had my head feeling dizzy. It was like I just walked into a bakery. With very gentle movements I pulled the one baking tray out of the oven then placed them on the cooling rack Mal had pointed too.
I pulled off the mitts then went back to close the oven doors and switch it off. "Anything else?"
"No thank you. I'm almost done here. Why don't you take a seat and have some wine. You shouldn't be on your feet after such a long flight."
I chuckled, "it was only four hours."
"Four hours too long!" He gasped, "I hate flying. In some aluminum and tin thing powered by petrol and questionable pilots. It's a death trap for human beings."
"And I thought I was paranoid," I took a seat by the dining table and pulled out the cork of the wine bottle. It was red and dry. Just my favorite kind and by the year and name of it. I knew it was ridiculously expensive. I would have to savour this.
"It's not paranoia, it's common sense," he laughed. Even his laugh sounded like a flute. Was there anything about Mal that was wrong? Everything about him seemed to perfectly picked that he didn't always appear to be human. Meanwhile I looked like I hadn't slept for months, which I hadn't.
"Then how do you go long distance?"
"Train?"
"Long distance? That could take you forever," I smacked my lips together after taking the first sip.
"I like to enjoy the journey not just the destination but I guess you New York City folks don't know anything about that."
"We're fast paced," I winked, which made him laugh again.