Well, not that Zyan should be one to talk. Beyond the two-century on-and-off thing he'd had going with Carter, he'd only ever been in for the casual dating, which he'd also managed to screw up every single time. Single life clearly was the way to go for him.
"I'd have enjoyed that movie a lot more if I hadn't gotten my period right before it started." Ava's voice dragged him back to reality. When he looked at her, he found her rubbing her abdomen—a clear sign of incoming cramps. He just hoped she'd stocked up on painkillers.
"I don't doubt that," Zyan replied absently.
As they kept walking, Zyan caught sight of the occasional odd look thrown their way. Whether it was a result of plain old racism or their mismatched appearance remained a mystery.
The latter would make sense, he supposed. They made somewhat of an odd couple. Where Ava was short and always dressed in bright colors, Zyan was tall and monochrome. Where she was energetic and optimistic, he was withdrawn and pessimistic. Well, realistic—at least, that was what he'd call it. Ava had dark brown skin; Zyan's was a few shades lighter. Where Ava was curvy, or in her words, chubby, Zyan was lean. Her hair was long and curly; his was short and wavy. Ava was extroverted; Zyan was introverted.
In the end, Zyan didn't care for what other people thought. One of the first things he'd learned as an immortal was how much of a waste of time it was to care about other people's opinions. Doing so wouldn't make him happy, and it wouldn't help him make the right decisions. It'd only bring him sorrow, second-guessing, and doubt. The only ones anyone should consider were of the people they cared about. After all, they were the ones he wanted to tolerate him.
Zyan watched Ava look both sides before she crossed the road. Her hold on his wrist was firm as she dragged him along to make sure he wouldn't wander off in the wrong direction. It'd happened before. More than once. But in his defense, mortals couldn't get distracted by pixies skidding past their noses.
"I need to stop by the drug store for tampons before we head over to your place," Ava told him.
Zyan didn't comment, and his facial expression didn't change either.
He knew how much it bugged Ava when he was like this. They'd known each other for roughly two years, yet she still couldn't tell what he was thinking. Neither his face nor his body language told her anything, and as someone usually quite good at figuring out people and their intentions, she'd said she found it frustrating. He wondered how she'd react if she found out how much she really didn't know.
He'd never revealed his secret: his immortality. Ava didn't know how much time he'd had to practice his poker face and keep his reactions on the inside. So far, there hadn't been an instance where he'd felt the need to reveal this part of himself, and unless they still knew each other in twenty years, there probably wouldn't be one, either. As long as he kept answers about his past as vague as possible, it'd be easy to keep her in the dark. Two or three times, he'd slipped up enough for Ava to shoot him a pointed look, but he'd simply backtracked and rephrased until her frown had disappeared.
He was her friend with a mysterious past and experience beyond his years. Someone who had a hard time opening up and trusting, and he was more than fine with keeping it that way. Carter had been the one always quick to spill their secret. He'd invited dozens of mortals into their world over the years by retelling historical events they'd witnessed firsthand, and sometimes bullshitting his way through the ones they'd missed because they'd been halfway around the globe.
Carter was the spark that kept them going, where Zyan was the damage control. Or rather, they had been. Now they both had to manage on their own.
Zyan shook his head and reburied the memories.
While he'd been lost in thought, Ava had continued to push her way through the crowd. It took him a few seconds to locate her again several feet away. When he got within reach, he tugged at her hood to draw her attention. She turned to shoot him a small smile before she kept going.
It was then, as Zyan looked up, that he noticed him.
It was just a short glimpse, a second of eye contact, but there was not a flicker of doubt in Zyan's mind as to who he'd just seen. Those eyes, that face—he'd notice them anywhere. It was the first face he'd laid eyes on after his death. The one he'd stared at when he'd struggled to breathe after his heart had stopped beating for endless minutes. And it was the one he'd seen every single day for years after that. He'd looked into those eyes during every single proposal speech he'd given and had seen them filled with love and promises when they'd spoken their vows during all the wedding ceremonies they'd attended.
He couldn't help but stop in his tracks and freeze.
Ava must've noticed the look on his face and started scanning their surroundings. "What is it?" She glanced between him and the other pedestrians.
He was too overwhelmed by the flood of memories and emotions to answer. During all those years apart, he hadn't allowed himself to consider what it'd be like if they met on accident. But even if he had, he doubted it would've made a difference. There was no way to prepare for something that all-consuming.
Only when Ava reached out to nudge his shoulder did he force himself to pull out of his thoughts and look down at her. "It's nothing. I just thought…"
Ava waited for him to continue, but when he didn't, she tilted her head to catch his gaze again. "What? What did you see?"
"It was nothing," he repeated. "I just thought I recognized somebody, but…it's nothing."
Ava held his gaze for a few seconds longer before she turned and continued to walk, Zyan right beside her.
Her body language told him all he needed to know. She could sense there was something off, that something had happened, but he wasn't about to bring it up. He needed to be able to think straight before he could even consider telling her anything. And right now, he was shaken up and thrown off his game. The pictures and memories he still had of Carter were nothing compared to the real thing. He hadn't been prepared…
225 years old and my heart still skips a beat when I see him. How pathetic.
Roughly twenty minutes of silent walking passed before they reached their shared hallway. The doors to their apartments were the only ones on the floor and faced each other from each end of the corridor. Ava had been calling the place her home for quite some time, but Zyan had only moved in several days ago. He hadn't even gotten around to fully unpacking yet.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Ava stepped up to her front door while Zyan approached his.
"I'm just gonna drop these off at mine," she told him, and held up the plastic bag from the drug store. "And also change into some blood-stain-free underwear…but I'll come over after, okay?"
Zyan remained unfazed. He'd gotten used to her oversharing nature a long time ago. "Yeah, sure. Take your time. Do you want me to order some takeout?"
"Chinese?"
"Sure."
Ava grinned. "Awesome."
Fifteen minutes later, they both settled down on Zyan's couch, which was also one of the only pieces of furniture in his apartment fully assembled and ready to use.
So far, Ava hadn't tried to bring up the earlier incident. It gave Zyan hope for a peaceful evening, even while part of him was aware it was most likely misplaced.
They bickered about which movie to watch as they waited for their takeout. It wasn't even a result of differences in movie taste, but because Ava had a thing for re-watching ones they'd already seen, where Zyan preferred something new.
They still hadn't even begun to narrow down their choices when the doorbell rang.
"Food," Zyan announced, and got to his feet.
On his way to the door, his mind wandered back to the first time he'd met Ava.
Zyan could vividly remember the shaking walls, terrible music, and sound of breaking furniture that had tormented him that night…
*~*~*
He lasted for over six hours before he realized it'd gotten to the point where he was ready to commit mass homicide. The time had come
where he needed to just suck it up and be the person Carter had always insisted he was.
It was disconcerting, the amount of breathing exercises it took before he'd calmed his rage enough to cross the hallway to his neighbor's front door without risking an outburst. He gladly took the opportunity to release some more rage by hammering against it with a closed fist.
When it swung open, it happened surprisingly fast and revealed a short, dark-skinned person with box-braids. And they were clearly more than just a little tipsy, considering how they swayed on their feet and blinked at him with glassy eyes.
A glance over their shoulder allowed him to catch sight of at least thirty people crammed into the small apartment. They ground against each other, completely off-beat, while the stench of alcohol and sweat accumulated around them.
"Hey," the stranger said—or rather slurred. "I don't know you."
"It's 5 a.m.," Zyan told them.
They blinked a few times before they looked to the right, at what Zyan assumed to be a clock, before they nodded. "Yeah."
"It's 5 a.m., and you're having a party in here that's keeping the entire building up," Zyan went on. "I suggest you tone it down, or you'll have to face the consequences in the form of the landlord. I've been patient with Kaitlyn and her friends' past behavior, but…"
The other person's brain must've shut off, because their gaze kept drifting aimlessly across him and the rest of their surroundings while they continued to sway on their feet. Zyan stared at them for another moment before he realized he was completely wasting his time. He shut his mouth and glared.
After a few seconds of silence, they must've realized he'd stopped talking. They frowned as they tried to focus on his face. "I don't actually live here," they informed him, and leaned a little too far into his personal space for comfort. "It's my girlfriend's birthday. Do you know my girlfriend? She's really pretty. She has this really soft hair and her eyelashes are amazing." They blinked. "Like yours. You got really pretty eyelashes." They pulled a face. "Why does nature waste pretty eyelashes on men? They don't even understand how privileged they are."
Zyan felt confusion and annoyance flood through him simultaneously. "Well, will you tell your girlfriend to quiet down before I call the police?"
They started to nod before they seemed to remember something and turned the nod into a head-shake. "I can't," they said. "I tried to tell her I'm going home, but I couldn't find her." They looked up at him with concern. "But I don't want her to get into trouble."
"Well, I'm sorry, but—"
"If the noise bothers you so much, you can sleep at my place." They reached up to put a hand on Zyan's shoulder but missed and almost bumped into him. He pushed them upright again. "I got this really nice couch," they went on, seemingly unbothered by their little display of drunkenness. "You see, I was cat-sitting for the old lady next door, and while I was asleep, all three of them peed on my couch and no matter what I did, I couldn't get the smell out, so I had to buy a new one."
"That's nice, but—"
"I thought about buying the same kind I had before because it was cheap, but then I saw this bright blue one, and I fell in love with the color because it reminded me of the eyes of the guy I was dating at the time—I'm bi, by the way." They giggled. "Bi, by." They looked up at him with earnest eyes. "You don't mind, do you? Biphobia is a real issue in both the LGBT and the straight community, you know? Do the straights even have a community? Either way, you seem like a nice person…Well, you did just threaten to call the cops on my girlfriend." They paused. "Oh, shit! My girlfriend. I should try to find her before I go."
Zyan put a hand on their shoulder when they tried to turn away and disappear back into the throng of people. "I don't think that's a good idea," he told them.
They nodded, looking tired as they continued to sway on their feet. "You're right. Wait. Are you? I'm tired. Do you know where I can find the closest bus stop? I wanna go home."
Zyan spent the rest of his night getting the stranger to lie down on his couch and stay there while he made sure to get some water into them before they could fall asleep. He draped a blanket over them before he went back to Kaitlyn's apartment in hopes of getting some shut-eye himself.
No such luck.
Zyan was still awake by the time the person on his couch woke up again. And when their gaze flickered around the room and landed on him, he only gestured toward the glass of water and small package of painkillers on his coffee table.
They groaned as they sat up and hurried to unpack the still-sealed box of pills. They took a sniff of the glass of water, and apparently deemed it safe, since they proceeded to swallow two of the painkillers.
"Your girlfriend's party only ended about two hours ago," Zyan spoke up from where he was standing in the kitchen doorway.
The stranger jumped a little and groaned in pain at the small movement.
He huffed a breath. "I can't even imagine the hangover you must have right now."
"I might've overdone it with the alcohol."
"You sure did," Zyan agreed as he sat down on the armrest of the armchair near the couch. "I would offer you breakfast, but I'd prefer it if you didn't projectile vomit on my furniture."
They looked like they were getting sick at the mere thought of food. "Good call."
Zyan remained silent for a few seconds before he spoke up again. "What's your name?"
"Ava. Ava Lee Martin."
"Zyan Zavala."
Ava snorted. "That sounds fake, but okay."
Zyan shrugged but didn't comment any further. It was a chosen name, after all. He got up and headed back toward the kitchen. "You can stay here until you feel less like throwing up, but after that, I would prefer it if you checked in on your girlfriend. I'd rather not have authorities running around the place to take out the bodies of a bunch of folks that choked on their own vomit."
Throughout the weeks following the incident, he and Ava continued to run into each other every now and again. She'd offer him small smiles and tiny waves, while he'd acknowledge her existence with a small nod.
At least, until the day came where she got into an argument with Kaitlyn.
Zyan was relaxing on his balcony when the voices started to drift over to him through his neighbor's open window. He tried to ignore the shouting met with increasingly watery replies, but his instincts told him to pay attention in case it escalated.
No matter how much he tried, fate would always throw somebody he couldn't ignore in his lap, couldn't shut out. At that point, it'd been a while since his heart had last forced somebody onto him, but now it seemed like it'd picked Ava. She'd grown on him with just one night and a few smiles. And now, he wanted to make sure she wouldn't get hurt by that Kaitlyn person.
It seemed to be too late for that.
"I've fallen for somebody else!" It came as a shout. Something said to cut off Ava's persistent pleas to fix things and talk it out.
"W-what?" Ava's voice was broken. It sounded more like a sob than a word.
There were more exclamations. More crying. Disbelief. Heartbreak.
Zyan swallowed thickly. It reminded him of his last big breakup. While it'd been much quieter and less filled with intent to hurt, there'd been just as much pain, if not more.
The voices next door moved further away. They were muffled, approaching the front door. Zyan knew Ava would leave any second; he'd make sure to listen for her footsteps in the hallway and catch her. He didn't trust people to let her get home safely in this state.
When he heard the telltale sound of a shutting door, followed by dragging feet and sniffling, he stepped out into the hall.
Ava broke into a sob when she laid eyes on him. She was clearly trying to regulate her hitching breaths as she wiped at her cheeks with her sleeve.
"Would you like to—" Zyan cut himself off at Ava's shaky nod.
He pulled her into his apartment and led her to the couch, where Ava started to talk unprompted. He didn't interrupt her, despite how much he'd
already heard first hand. He only nodded along to her gasping breaths, sniffing and sobbing. How much of it was actual words, he couldn't tell.
He tried to let his sympathy show as he offered her new tissues in frequent intervals.
When she finally fell silent, he felt the need to speak up. "I know things seem gloomy right now, and I'm not gonna lie and say it'll all be better when you wake up tomorrow, or that the next person you fall for will be your happily-ever-after. But eventually, you'll look back and realize how much you would have missed out on if you'd stayed with her.
"Humanity has always tended to place an excessive amount of value on romantic relationships and disregard the importance of all the other people that shape us into who we are. You shouldn't have to put all your energy into a single person. When you feel better, you should go out and have fun with your friends, spend time with your family, if you like them, and learn more about yourself.
"You're still incredibly young, and I'm sure you have a lot to offer to the world. Go and figure out what that is, work out how to be your best self, and show everyone who hurt you what they're missing out on."
Ava blinked. She seemed unsure how to respond. "Are you a motivational coach or something?"
Zyan sighed and shook his head. "Why do I even bother?" he muttered.
Two hours later, she fell asleep on his couch. But this time when she woke up, she was greeted by a takeout container. "Is that Chinese?"
"Yes," Zyan answered from where he sat on the floor, back against the base of the couch Ava was lying on.
"Can you be my new best friend?"
"Just eat."
From there on out, their friendship had kept on growing.
And when the old cat lady from across Ava's hallway died, Zyan took the opportunity to get away from Kaitlyn and her loud parties to move closer to his unexpected friend.
*~*~*
"L'Chaim," they said in unison before they took a sip from their drinks.
Ava set down her glass and picked up her food. "So…earlier," she started and clicked her chopsticks together. A smirk was aimed at Zyan at the other end of the couch.
The Thing About Forever Page 2