Ryan (Mallick Brothers 2)

I genuinely couldn't imagine a quiet evening with just one other person.

As I came up to my door, my gaze finally drifted away from her quiet apartment and looked to my own. Good timing too, because otherwise, I might have plowed right into a big rectangular package right outside my door. I reached for it, already half-turning toward Dusty's door, sure it was one of hers, silly Santa-printed paper and all, when I noticed the little gift tag and saw my own name printed there in a delicate, feminine script. My brows drew together as I looked at the 'from', already knowing, but finding the same dainty font with Dusty's name. My eyes went to her door again for a moment before I unlocked my own and went inside.

I flicked on the light and dropped my bag of gifts from my family beside the door, moving to the kitchen island and putting down the gift from Dusty.

I reached for the gift tag again and flipped it open.

Thanks for not letting me die. Also, Merry Christmas! - Dusty.

I didn't even realize I was smiling until my cheeks started to hurt.

I pulled off the tag and put it to the side before I reached for the corner of the paper and pulled, finding that the roll must have been double-sided because inside staring back at me was more santas, just bigger. And when I pulled the paper away, I found red tissue paper carefully taped together in the center. Apparently, Dusty was of the perfectionist variety. Which, somehow, I found charming.

I ripped the tape and pulled the tissue paper away to reveal, of all things, a canvas print.

It was abstract, like most of my art, and like most of my art it was also of a mostly neutral color scheme. There were waves of different shades of tan and brown with the occasional streak of very bright, almost aqua blue.

Even though it wasn't something I would have picked for myself, I genuinely liked it. And it didn't even have anything to do with the fact that it was a gift from someone I, despite it being stupid and fanciful at such an early stage, gave a shit about.

Without really letting myself think it through, I shrugged out of my jacket, walked to my wine cubby above my sink, grabbed a nice bottle of red, a corkscrew, and two glasses in case she didn't have any, then made my way across the hall, tapping on her door in the quietest way possible so it didn't freak her out.

There was a long, long pause followed by some scrambling, the cat shrieking, and footsteps that stopped right in front of the door. The peephole darkened as she, I imagined, looked out, then I heard the slide of the locks and the door opened tentatively.

And there was Dusty... in fucking reindeer-printed pajamas. The pants had tiny little reindeer all over it and the long sleeve tee had one giant reindeer with a red nose front and center.

"Nice pjs," I said, smiling because I couldn't fucking help it.

"I, ah, thanks. What are you doing here?" she blurted, almost in the same breath, the words tripping over each other.

"You're welcome and thank you," I said, giving her what I hoped was an encouraging smile. "And I need a glass of wine and I don't want to drink alone," I offered, lying through my teeth seeing as I had plenty to drink earlier and it felt good to be clear-headed and sober again, but wanting any excuse to maybe get inside.

"Oh," was her only response at first, her eyes going to my hand.

"Do you drink wine?" I asked, wondering if I should have brought over cookies that Anita left instead. What if she was on medication or some shit like that?

"If it's good," she offered with what I could only call a saucy smile as she took a tentative step back. It wouldn't let me completely in the room, but it was a step in the right direction.

"They wouldn't charge me seventy a bottle if it was swill," I added, holding up the bottle.

She nodded a little tightly at that and went to move again, before completely blocking me again. "Wait. I, um, I need to put Rocky away."

"Why?"

"He doesn't like men."

"Well, I don't like cats so we're even," I said, stepping inward before she found an excuse to keep me out.

"I guess that's fair," she said, letting me step all the way in before closing the door behind me, locking it, then pushing her back against it, watching me anxiously as I looked around her apartment.

It was all white and sage green, not my style, but it was well put together and welcoming. I guess if it was all dark, it would feel all the more like the prison it was to her.