The Thing About Forever

by Michelle Engardt

  Zyan watched the shift in Carter's expression. Was he nervous too? Zyan didn't give himself the chance to read too much into it. He pulled his leg up onto the mattress and turned to unzip the bag.

  Carter seemed to take it as his cue to step back. "I'll, uh, get changed and brush my teeth while you…do your thing…here." He stumbled over his own words and feet as he backed out of the room.

  Zyan watched on in bemusement. Carter usually wasn't one to lose his cool. He stayed eloquent when Zyan got flustered. He was levelheaded when Zyan's temper snapped. At least, that was how it had been for the better portion of their relationship. Toward the end, things had been…different.

  Zyan shook his head and started to dig through the bag until he found a wide shirt and pajama bottoms. He got changed as quickly as possible, in case Carter came back sooner than expected, and threw his own clothes on a chair in the corner by the window.

  With nothing else left to do, he sat back down and continued to go through the duffel bag. Some of the items, he couldn't remember owning, but there were a few he'd been missing for a long time. Like the shirt he now held between his fingers. He hadn't seen it in at least a decade, but the silky, plain fabric brought back a flood of memories. He'd worn it on the day they'd bought their first shared apartment as an officially married couple—papers and all. They'd been so happy and excited. They'd thought this time it would last forever. It hadn't.

  Zyan shook off the memories and rolled up the shirt before he stuffed it back inside. He zipped up the bag and put it on the ground by the chair holding his clothes. But as he stood there by the window and looked out at the night sky, he could feel there was no use in trying to hold back the memories.

  It was weird how much he'd changed. The person Carter had fallen for was long gone, the one he'd first proposed to lost in time. And somewhere along the way, their roles had reversed.

  If he were to tell Ava this, she wouldn't believe him, but it used to be him that was open, him who was flirty and outgoing, who loved to meet new people and make friends, who enjoyed being the center of attention and entertain everyone. Now, he could barely remember that person. He didn't remember what it felt like to be him and why he'd enjoyed it so much.

  He just wanted to be left alone these days, and not think about how they'd all age and die within the next few decades. They'd become a constant reminder of his immortality: of the people he'd lost, and would inevitably continue to lose, no matter how hard he tried to stay away.

  But he hadn't just grown tired of the loss and heartbreak. He'd also grown bored of living. He was bored by the simple tasks of showering, of vacuum cleaning, of making his bed, and opening the fridge. He was tired of sleeping and cooking. He was bored by the way he walked and sat and lay. He was tired of the way humanity repeated past mistakes and the sheer foolishness that kept getting them into situations easily avoided if the majority of them would start thinking for themselves, instead of allowing the media to dictate their opinions.

  Carter could relate to this, Zyan knew. They'd talked about it many times, but the first time still resonated within him to this day. "Frustration and boredom is a dangerous mix. It leads to apathy. No matter how long you live, and no matter what you think is right—never allow yourself to become apathetic."

  Zyan had to remind himself of that constantly. It was too easy to slip into a mindset of apathy at his age, to distance himself from the mortals and their problems. Especially when caring had become equal to heartbreak and pain. He'd seen too many people killed for who they were, what they believed in, and how they acted—senseless murders committed by people never put on trial because the broad public didn't care. They often didn't even bother to call it a crime. They viewed the life lost as too low in worth.

  It was difficult to let himself feel the rage and frustration and grief when locking it away and turning into a heartless robot seemed so much easier and appealing. Especially in times where he no longer felt like he could go on. He'd lost faith in humanity too many times to count.

  Every other decade, the hatred and fear in people grew until they turned their backs on their own people and hit the self-destruct button. Thousands of lives lost, thousands more destroyed, all at the hands of irrational fear-mongering and the illogical need to find a minority to blame for their problems when the perpetrators were usually the ones in charge. The rich and greedy left the poor to die to feed their own wallets. It was a tale as old as humanity itself, yet a problem still unsolved.

  Then there was the guilt. It had become the one constant in his life. Even when every other cell in him felt numb, the guilt he could never get rid of. It lingered as a constant reminder of his wrongdoings. It gnawed at him, told him he wasn't doing enough, that he could help more, save lives across the globe and use the excessive amount of time he'd been gifted to step in and take the place of someone with a limited lifespan. But instead, he was here, living the high life and—

  "Stop."

  Zyan only shook his head.

  "I don't even want to know how many times you've gotten stuck in your own head over the last decade without someone there to pull you out."

  Zyan turned around. "Do you have a spare toothbrush I can use?"

  "Drawer in the cabinet under the sink."

  Zyan brushed past Carter without sparing him single glance.

  When he returned from the bathroom, Carter was lying on top of the covers and staring at the ceiling. At the sight, Zyan turned around to shut the door and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath to steel himself for whatever was about to happen. He faced the bed again and walked closer, until he could slide under the covers, making sure to stick near the edge. Carter tended to unintentionally kick and slap people throughout the night.

  "How many languages have you learned while I wasn't with you?" Carter's voice was low, yet jarring in the tense silence.

  "Two. You?"

  "Just one."

  Zyan nodded.

  He didn't question why Carter had brought it up. He understood the urge to find out more about their time apart in an effort to reconnect, and languages were something they'd both found a passion for. Somewhere along the way, they'd made a deal to only speak the language of the place they lived in, even when they were in private, as a means of improving their skills. Other languages only tended to slip in when they were cursing or insulting someone.

  Zyan could hear and feel Carter wiggle around until he was lying comfortably. Then the tugging at the covers began. He rolled and moved around for several minutes, leaving Zyan to sigh and lie unmoving until he finally stilled.

  Zyan was just about to ask if he was finally done when Carter huffed and rolled onto his other side, taking the bedspread with him. He kicked out, hitting Zyan in the shin and mumbling a 'sorry' before he turned around once more, sat halfway up, and hit his pillow before he flopped back down and wiggled around a while longer. When he finally calmed down and only tugged at the covers a little to get them untangled from his legs, Zyan glanced over at him with a furrowed brow.

  "Are you done now?"

  Carter froze and looked over at him in the darkness. "Sorry," he whispered.

  "It's fine," Zyan said, even though it wasn't, and Carter knew it.

  A few seconds of peace passed before Carter's rustling picked back up as he freed himself from the bedspread until he could throw one end to Zyan, so they were both sharing the covers again. "Better?" he asked.

  Zyan nodded and made sure to trap the upper corner under his shoulder. Hopefully, that'd keep Carter from pulling them away again.

  "Good. Then…goodnight."

  "'Night."

  They still lay in silence almost a full hour later. Zyan could tell it wasn't just him by Carter's breathing and the way he tossed and turned every other minute. Maybe he, too, was hyperaware of the other presence in the bed. Zyan couldn't seem to focus on anything but the heat radiating from Carter's body and the small noises that weren't Zyan's doing. He'd forgotten how intimate it could
feel to share a mattress.

  He wasn't sure how much time passed before his fatigue finally won out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Jessica

  "How can you hate sleeping?" Ava asked.

  "You're one to talk!" Jessica replied. "You have this weird pet peeve where you get angry any time you read a story where somebody puts their chin on their knees!"

  "Well, it's super uncomfortable, and I don't understand why someone would choose to put themselves in that position," Ava replied. "But hating sleep? That's super weird!"

  "It's a waste of my time!"

  "But you can have all of these amazing dreams!"

  "Last night I literally dreamed I was living in a world where giant pet spiders are taken for walks on leashes and all of them hated me and tried to gnaw off my legs."

  Ava cringed. "Yikes."

  "What the hell are you guys talking about?"

  They looked up to find Carter standing in the kitchen doorway. His hair stood up in every direction, and his feet were bare, showing off one sparkly blue-painted toenail.

  "Why is only one of your nails painted?" Ava asked.

  "Ask Jess."

  Ava turned to look at Jessica, who shrugged. "I wanted to try out my new nail polish."

  Carter shifted his attention in favor of making himself a mug of hot chocolate. Jessica didn't know why, but Carter never drank coffee in the morning. When she'd asked him about it once, he'd only shrugged and answered, "I don't know, either."

  "Anyway," Carter started as he dumped the ingredients into his cup, "how are you this morning?"

  Jessica lowered her eyes and leaned back against the small table behind her. "Better."

  Carter nodded without looking at her.

  "I…" She took a deep breath and folded her arms over her chest. "I've thought about it a lot, and realized that despite how much I believed I was free of her, she still had a hold on me. There was still this part of me that tried to please her and win her approval."

  "And that part is gone now?"

  Jessica shook her head. "I don't know. I hope so."

  Silence fell as Jessica drifted off into thought to the sound of Carter boiling his water and Ava drumming her fingers arithmetically against the counter.

  "Where's Zyan?" Ava asked as Carter filled his mug. The steam lapped his fingers as he poured.

  "He's still sleeping."

  The words brought a small smile to Jessica's face. "Did you two share a bed last night?"

  "Yes."

  "And?" Ava asked.

  "And nothing," Carter replied.

  "Did you…make out?" Jessica inquired.

  "No."

  "Kiss?" Ava prodded.

  Carter paused. "No."

  Jessica smirked. "Oh, I think someone's lying," she singsonged.

  Carter sighed. "We kissed, all right? But that was before you guys even got here."

  Ava hopped down from the counter she'd been sitting on and walked over to Carter's other side. She propped her elbows on the counter and cocked her head at him. "Does that mean you guys are back together now?"

  Carter shrugged. "I'm not sure. We agreed to it, but…everything still feels a little…off and awkward. It'll take some time before we get this thing figured out."

  Jessica waved the concern aside. "Doesn't matter. I'm just glad you've finally taken a step in the right direction."

  "How do you feel about it?" Ava asked.

  "I don't know. Hopeful?" Carter stirred his mug and took a step back from them and the counter. "It's…nice."

  "Just nice?" Jessica asked.

  Carter rolled his eyes. "Fine." He paused. "It's pretty amazing. I forgot how nice it feels to wake up to his face squished into a pillow." He waited another beat. "The spark's definitely still there."

  Jessica felt a smile spread over her face. "That's so adorable."

  Ava moved closer to Jessica and leaned against her shoulder. "How would you feel about going out together? And I'm talking double-date, not just friends hanging out."

  "I doubt Zyan would like that idea," Carter said.

  Ava dismissed it. "We'll talk him into it."

  "If you say so."

  "Say what?"

  Carter glanced over his shoulder while Jessica turned to find Zyan stand in the doorway, his clothes and hair sleep-mussed and eyes drooping.

  "Hey, Zyan," Ava greeted him. "Sleep well?"

  Zyan huffed a breath. "No."

  He walked up beside Carter and took out a mug, which he dumped the ingredients Carter had left out on the counter into. Something in Jessica's head clicked and made her look at Carter, who ducked his head.

  "Carter stole the covers every few minutes, and I think he bruised my shin when he kicked me at 3 a.m.," Zyan complained.

  Carter grimaced behind his mug. "Sorry."

  "It's fine," Zyan said dismissively. "I'm used to it, but sometimes I wonder if getting back together is worth the bruises." Carter seemed to freeze at the words. Zyan picked up his drink before he faced Carter. "I'm obviously kidding." He reached up to pat Carter's cheek. "You can relax. If it bothered me, I'd make you sleep on the floor." He stepped back and headed off into the living room.

  Carter sighed. "That man is gonna be the death of me."

  "If he wanted you dead, he could've killed you a century ago," Jessica said.

  Carter shot her a look. "Not funny."

  "That's subjective."

  "Has anyone seen the remote?" Zyan called.

  "Check on the TV stand!" Carter replied.

  "You still do that? Why?"

  "So I know where it is!"

  "That defies the purpose of what it's there for!"

  "Just shut up!"

  Zyan grumbled something unintelligible, but a moment later, the low sound of commercials reached Jessica's ears.

  "So…do you want us to leave?" Ava asked. "You know, have some alone time with your boo?"

  Carter shook his head. "No. Feel free to hang around as long as you want. Mi casa es tu casa and all that."

  "Great! Then I better go steal the remote from Zyan."

  Jessica watched Ava rush off with a smile.

  A second later, Zyan's panicked shouts cut through the air. "Wait! Watch the hot chocolate!"

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Zyan

  They were all lying on the fold-out couch: Zyan on the edge, with Carter by his side. Their shoulders were pressed together to make enough room for Jessica and Ava as they drifted back and forth between paying attention to the TV and getting lost in their own heads.

  Ava seemed immersed in whatever was happening on-screen, while Jessica played with her fingers, drawing shapes into the smaller palm and curling and uncurling the fingers, as if it were fascinating to her.

  When he looked back at Carter, he noticed the faraway look on his face. Zyan would've asked what he was thinking about, but he knew from experience that he wouldn't get a clear answer. Both their trains of thought were muddled, so loaded with memories of history long gone that there was no keeping track. Each image and moment in time branched into another, all of them riddled with the question of whether it had even happened, or if it was a false memory created over time.

  Still, he wanted to pull Carter out of it. "Earth to Carter," he said quietly, so only he would hear.

  Carter lightly shook his head before he shifted his gaze to look at Zyan. "Yeah?"

  "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine," Carter replied. "I was just thinking."

  Zyan nodded and looked back at the TV.

  From the corner of his eye, he could see Carter do the same, though his hands seemed restless. A few minutes passed before Carter pulled at the leather cord around his neck. He tugged the rings from beneath his shirt. His fingers began to fiddle with them. Zyan could guess what he'd been thinking about.

  *~*~*

  Jessica, Ava, and Zyan were still lounging on the couch after Carter had taken his phone into the bedroom to order lunch. />
  "I'm so glad we took the day off," Jessica said. "I don't think I could live with doing inventory right now. But hey. Carly's been begging for a chance to prove herself for months, so this is her opportunity." She paused. "I hope the store is still standing by the end of the week."

  Ava patted her on the shoulder in support. "It'll be fine."

  "I sure hope so."

  "If she messes up, you can sue her," Zyan commented.

  Ava looked over Jessica's shoulder at him.

  Jessica turned around to face him. "You're always so radical."

  Zyan only shrugged.

  "You and Carter, huh?" Ava prompted.

  "I've heard of him, yes," Zyan replied.

  Ava huffed a breath.

  Jessica rolled onto her side to look at him more comfortably. "Carter seems unsure of where you two are standing. Maybe you should have a talk and define this…thing you've got going on."

  Zyan glanced up at her. "We're good."

  Ava snorted. "Come on, honey, you gotta talk to your man and make sure you're on the same page. I don't want to see either of you pining again—I've had enough of that for the rest of my life. Just grab him and give him a smooch, exchange some cheesy lines, and maybe get married again in a coupla years. You know I'd make one hell of a groomsmaid."

  Zyan frowned. "Come again?"

  Ava sighed. "Talk to Carter. Give him a kiss. Tell him you love him," she summarized.

  Jessica nodded. "In any healthy relationship, communication is key." She sounded like she was quoting something.

  Zyan gave both an unimpressed look. "I'm a lot older than both of you combined, so I don't think you're in any position to give me relationship advice."

  "You're a man," Ava said. "You'll always need advice."

  Before Zyan could respond, Carter returned from the bedroom. "Food's on its way," he announced.

  "What took you so long?" Jessica asked.

  Zyan rolled onto his back and pushed onto his elbows to get a better look at Carter. "Yes. How dare you leave me with them for so long? They're so nosy."