The year: 2023

Dragon's Den,
Oadley,
Albion

[Marty's POV]

A sharp screech pierced my ears, and a second later, I heard a click. "Success!" I cheered, probably a little too soon. 

What I had thought to be the sound of the lock opening was, in reality, that of the key breaking. I stared at the top half of the metal piece and sighed deeply, wondering why fate was always so cruel to me when I heard Morgana chuckle.

'You knew it would do that, did you not?' She spoke between lady-like giggles.

'Of course not.'

The man was obviously lying, for his tone was seeped in mirth. 'Asshole.' I muttered under my breath and thought about Dwight, who I had left waiting downstairs. 

"Fuck it! Maybe we were not supposed to meet today!" I cursed my luck, pocketed the key, and started clearing the mess the broken penny jar had made. "If I tell him I can't get out, what will he think of me?" I wondered aloud and almost decided to stand him up again when I heard another crash. It was louder than the one before. 

My soul may or may not have exited my body for a moment, or maybe what I had just experienced was a heart attack, either way, I knew I had come close to dying hearing the unexpected sound. 

"Marty, where are you?"

I froze on the spot. Surely, I had not just heard Dwight's voice coming from my bedroom. I left the closet, and walked towards my bedroom. 

"Here." I waved. My reply came out croaky. Dwight smiled at me nonetheless and ran over my entire length and width. "You look alright." He pointed at me, sounding like he expected otherwise. 

Fishing out the broken key from where I had chucked it, I offered vaguely, "The key broke." 

Unexpectedly, he understood me just fine. He closed the distance between us and stared at the key, "I thought you were in trouble when you didn't come downstairs. I guess I made the trip unnecessarily." He looked over his shoulder at the devastated window and bit his lip, looking guilty. "I am sorry that I broke your window. Do you have somewhere else you can sleep? An extra room, perhaps?"

It had been a while since someone other than my Mum had shown genuine concern for my well-being. Dwight's query momentarily made me forget all about the extra cash I would have to spend to fix the window. "Don't worry about me," I replied, waving away his worry as if I was strong enough to brave the cold without turning into a popsicle before midnight. "How did you manage to climb up?"

"It was easy. I have always been pretty athletic. Actually, I insist you get metal grills for the window. For security."

I nodded. I wanted to say much, but at that very moment, it was like a cork had opened up in my brain, and all thoughts had flown out. 

Dwight must have been experiencing something similar, I guessed. After the initial exchange, he had fallen silent as well.

'I think it's the cute boy from the other day.'

That was Morgana. I recalled her saying that she liked Dwight. I needed to get further away from the closet. 

"Did you say something?" Dwight asked at the same time as I suggested, "Let's get out of here." 

"No."

"Okay."

We spoke simultaneously again and caught each other's eyes. A moment later, we broke out laughing, melting the ice of awkwardness that had halted our exchange. 

I led Dwight to the drawing room, where he observed everything with calm interest, and once we took our seats, he asked, "It's a charming place. It is yours?"

"Not anymore," I replied. The place, actually the whole building, once belonged to the Wyllt family. However, just before Dad had left us, he had sold it to Henkley's mom, who had come into a bit of cash and was looking to invest. 

However, there was a strange condition that he had put in the sale deed. It said that as long as I was alive, the apartment on the first floor would either be left empty or occupied by me. 

Of course, that didn't mean that my accommodation was rent-free. I paid for it by slogging in the café day and night.

I couldn't help but think that Henkley had lucked out. He had not only gotten (for all intents and purposes) a tenant who would never fall behind on the payment of rent but also a cook, wait the tables and clean the café. 

Neither did Dwight interrupt my musings, nor did he press for more on it; instead, he changed the subject. "I am good with my hands."

"Huh?"

"I can fix your window. It's the least I can do since I was the one who broke it."

It took me a moment to reply, "That would certainly help." I readily agreed because it would give me a reason to see him without making things up. For some inexplicable reason, excitement flooded me at Dwight's offer. It perplexed me more when I saw my sentiments reflected in his cool blues; they danced with glee as if helping me fix my window was his life's mission. 

"Cool. When do you want me to start?" Dwight asked, all business-like, and I contemplated for a moment. Not wanting to cause him too much inconvenience, I suggested, "From what I know, you guys work in shifts. If you really want to do it, come over anytime you are free, and I will let you in. I am not home from four in the morning to twelve at night except on Sundays when we usually close early, so I won't be able to help you with it, and even if I could, I would be more of a hindrance than help. Sorry." 

"Wow. That's one brutally hectic schedule you got there." Dwight empathized. He glanced at his wristwatch, "I am sorry for intruding upon your limited free time. If I had known earlier, I would not have disturbed you." his words dripped with guilt. "I just..." he let the sentence hang for a moment, then tried again, "when you didn't show up, I thought something might have..." He trailed off. 

I figured there won't be a better time to apologize; bracing myself for the worst, I blurted out, "I am really sorry that I stood you up. I don't know how it happened. And Henkley, that jerk didn't-"

Dwight's brows knit, "Henkley?"

"My partner in the café."

"Oh."

"Henkley didn't tell me that you had called. I don't know what's been happening to my life lately." I leaned forward on my couch and buried my face in my palms. "All I know is that I keep losing things or breaking them."

"Hey, it's alright." Dwight reached for me but pulled his hand back just before it could rest on my shoulder. "Really. I had forgotten to tell my girlfriend about it, and when she heard that there would be another couple hanging out with us, she canceled on me." He sighed, shaking his head. 

A girlfriend!? I thought back to our conversation from three days ago and couldn't remember him mentioning bringing our girlfriends to the non-date. 

"Oh, that's terrible." I tried my best to sound genuine. It was difficult, for my gut was telling me that whoever she was, Dwight did not belong with her. "Women don't generally like to do things like this together, especially if they don't know the other party." 

"Why?" He cocked his head, "Isn't it supposed to be merrier with more people to share the joy?"

Dwight was clearly an outgoing lad. 

Lad!? Did I address him as lad!! Damn it! Merlin and Morgana were getting to me. I had started sounding like them without even realizing it. I shook my head and tried to remember what we were talking about. 

I schooled my features to look like I was giving the matter a thought, and luckily, before I could embarrass myself or give him a wrong impression that he was bothering me, I remembered his question, "Women's minds don't work like that. They often say one thing but mean another," I drew from what I had learned from my almost nonexistent relationship with Ellisia and continued, "They are insecure beings who can find fault in the smallest of things we do and complain nonstop till we are convinced that we have indeed committed a grave mistake. More often than not, they give an impression that we are no more than an inconvenience in their otherwise perfect life, but when another woman shows us even a bit of kindness, they turn into completely different people, feeling the need to protect their territory,"

"Territory?" Dwight narrowed his eyes, and I elaborated, "Us, their boyfriends. 

"Oh... " The now enlightened man dragged. He nodded like he had had a revelation; shaking his head, he averted his gaze, then spoke slowly, "Marty, I don't mean to sound like a loon, but since the past few days, I have wanted to see you." Dwight's solemn tone made the clogs in my mind turn.

I wondered why he had felt that. More importantly, why was I feeling the same way about him?