The Morning After
After long nights, I always find that sleeping in is the best remedy to any left over yuckiness.
So I decided to do that. By several hours. And I mean several hours. You couldn’t pay me to get out of bed today.
I only wake up when I hear my phone ping about twelve number of times.
I roll over and look at the clock, noting that it’s three in the afternoon and probably time to get up. Three is a good time for a night out. A little on the early side- if you were to ask me.
Most of the notifications on the phone are emails. I look through them with vague disinterest.
A few texts are from Sue telling me to get out of bed, informing me that they went on a mission without me, and then telling me there are aspirin and Pepto-bismol in the kitchen.
She thinks last night was a bender. I can’t wait to sit her down and tell her what really happened.
Thinking back, now that it’s over, it made for one hell of a night.
At any rate, I won’t be needing her offered hangover cures.
The final text is-and I’m surprised to note- from Daken.
It’s a picture of the ‘Finding Dory’ DVD on top of the fish in his fridge that I left for him.
Underneath is “We should talk.”
“Oh?” I text back.
The text is timestamped for five minutes ago.
I wait three minutes before he responds with an address.
No explanation outside of that.
Not knowing what else to do, I plug the address into my phone, noting that whatever it is it’s within walking distance, and get dressed.
It takes a while to get presentable. Clean clothes, somewhat brushed hair, shoes ( A different pair from this morning because I left those at Daken’s.) and I’m out the door about ten minutes later.
I follow the phone, not really looking at the surroundings.
I stop in front of an office building- confused.
I must look like an idiot.
I go back to my phone getting ready to text him.
“For a hero, you should probably be a little more observant.” is whispered in my ear, making me jump.
“Daken!” I snap.
He smiles.
He’s dressed … differently. Jeans and a short sleeved tee-shirt. A new look.
“The one and only.”
He looks calm and collected.
“I’m happy you’re still breathing,” I say. “You were….”
“Mmm.” he interrupts me. “An off night.”
“Off night’ my ass.” I snort.
His smile settles into more of a smirk.
“Why did you have me meet you at an office?” I ask looking up at the large gray building with its numerous windows.
“I didn’t.” He takes his hand, puts it on my shoulder and turns me to the direction of a truck sitting on the other side of the street.
That… brings some hope to mind.
“Food truck.” I have to laugh.
He nods. “Mm-hmm.”
“So… you uh… remember?”
“Bits and pieces.” he says with a grin.
“Anything in particular?” I probe.
“We’ll see. Won’t we?” He walks up to the truck, stands in a short line and orders food.
He walks back over to me and offers some the plaid paper container to me.
I stare in disbelief. “Cheese fries?”
“I wasn’t joking,” he smirks. “When I say I want to eat something- I eat it. It’s one of the privileges of being a grownup.”
“Grownup,” I repeat.
He offers me a plastic fork.
I take it and eat some of the offered food. “So,” I ask with my mouth full.
“So.” He repeats.
“You remember last night?”
He nods. “For the most part.”
“And….”
“You’re going to make me say it- aren’t you?” he grouses.
My turn to smirk. “Maybe.”
He looks down at his tennis shoes. “I would like for you to not make me say it.”
He misled me there.
“I need to hear you. Or I can’t believe it.” I grin, shaking my head.
“I would like,” he moves in close to me, “For you to reconsider leaving.” he says crisply.
“Oh, would you now?” My heartbeat speeds up.
He nods.
“And does my little fishy remember WHY he would like me to reconsider leaving?”
He shows an actual blush. It’s so rarer than most endangered species.
“Because.” he says.
“Because why?”
“Because.” he whispers.
“Come on little bush,” I tease. “Let me hear it.”
“Johnny,” he groans.
“What- you can say it high but you can’t say it sober?” I’m starting to feel a twinge of actual upset. “Because if you think-“ He cuts me off by leaning in and kissing me.
“Because.” He says when we break apart.
“Please say it.” I plead. “I really need to hear it.”
“Don’t leave,” he responds, putting a hand on my face. “Please.”
“Why fishy?” I’m grinning now.
“We both know why.” he hisses.
“But I need to hear it.” I press.
He looks around, dropping his hand to his side and intently staring at his shoes. “I love you.” he mumbles. “Please come back.”
I put a finger under his chin and raise his head until he’s eye level with me. “This time, I will come back.” I smile. “This time. If you do that shit again- I’m leaving for good.”
He nods. “Understood.”
“Daken?” I question, taking the container of cheese fries from him.
“Hmmm?” he raises an eyebrow.
“You gave me hell last night.” I’m laughing.
He grins. “Next time you run out half naked and bleeding in front of my taxi-“
“You’d do the same damn thing over again.” He leans in close. “And you know it.”
I have to laugh. “Maybe I would.”
He leans in and kisses me again.
Maybe I would- maybe I wouldn’t.
However, I have learned a lesson in all of this. That is- if you see your ex naked in a park, you talk them down, if you talk them down, you talk to them, if you talk to them you end up in a bar, if you end in a bar, you’ll end up in a taxi, if you end up in a taxi, you’ll end up in a Waffle House, if you end up in a Waffle House you’ll end up in an alley covered in puke, if you end up in alley covered in puke you’ll eventually end up back at their house.
And- if you end up back at their house at an ungodly time in the morning there’s a slight- slight- chance that you’ll end up back together. Consider this a lesson happily learned.