“It’s wine!” Maggie’s voice calls from her bedroom. “Probably!”
Sundar enters behind me, his tail somehow managing to look graceful even as he navigates our cramped entryway. His head nearly brushes our ceiling, and I suddenly see our apartment through his eyes—the mismatched furniture, the flickering lighting, the shaggy old carpet.
But instead of judgment, his expression holds genuine curiosity as he takes it all in. His tail makes a slow sweep of the living room, carefully avoiding the precarious stack of books by the TV that Maggie swears is “an art installation, not clutter.”
“This space…” he says thoughtfully, “it feels lived in. Warm.”
“That’s a very polite way of saying it’s a mess.”
“I mean it.” His hand finds mine. “There’s a lot of personality here.”
“Is that what we’re calling my collection of novelty mugs now? ‘Personality’?”
Before he can respond, Maggie emerges from her room like she’s making a grand entrance on a reality show. She’s changed into what she calls her “first impression outfit,” which basically means she’s wearing makeup and real pants instead of her usual day job uniform or pajamas.
“So!” She claps her hands together, barely concealing her nervous energy. “The famous Sundar in our humble abode. It’s weird seeing you without a display case between us.”
“Maggie.” Sundar inclines his head politely, though I catch the slight flare of his hood that means he’s amused. “I was surprised how quickly those anime figurines you traded in flew off the shelves.”
“Oh my God, he remembers!” Maggie shoots me a delighted look. “See, this is why I told you to go to his shop. His customer service game is on point.”
“I remember all my customers,” Sundar says smoothly. “Particularly those who try to convince me their collectibles are ‘basically ancient artifacts.’”
“Hey, that Sailor Moon figure was vintage!”
“I believe your exact words were ‘practically prehistoric.’”
“Well, the 90s were like thirty years ago… which is kind of terrifying to think about, at least for me.” Maggie then cocks her head and smiles. “Anyway, wow. Who would have ever thought me trying to offload my ex’s anime figure collection would lead to you dating my best friend?” She sighs dreamily then looks at me. “You’re welcome, by the way. I expect to be mentioned in the wedding toast.”
I choke on air, not quite ready for the topic of weddings. “Maggie!”
“What? I’m just saying, I have excellent matchmaking instincts.” She backs toward her room with an exaggerated wink. “And now I’m going to exercise those instincts by making myself scarce. Isuddenly remembered I have that… thing. At that place. With those people.”
“Subtle,” I mutter.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” she calls over her shoulder. “Which, let’s be real, leaves you with alotof options!”
Her door closes with a flourish, leaving me alone with Sundar in our cramped living room. The silence stretches for a moment before his chest vibrates with suppressed laughter.
“So,” I say, turning to him. “That’s Maggie in her natural habitat. Now, let me show you my sanctuary. It’s the one place Maggie’s chaos hasn’t completely invaded.”
My room isn’t large, but I’ve made it mine in ways the rest of the apartment can’t be. Fairy lights cast a soft glow over my collection of vintage postcards, each one showing a different city I dream of visiting. My grandmother’s old vanity sits in one corner, its surface covered in carefully arranged treasures: sea glass from childhood beach trips, ticket stubs from concerts, pictures of old friends.
Sundar moves through my space with careful grace, his tail sliding in behind us. I watch his expression as he takes in these pieces of me, these small collections that tell my story. His eyes linger on the shelf of books above my bed, all worn paperbacks and dogeared favorites.
“It’s weird having you here,” I admit softly. “In my space. After being in yours.”
He turns to me, his expression softening. “Good weird or bad weird?”
“Good weird. Definitely good weird.” I perch on the edge of my bed, smoothing the comforter nervously. “Just… vulnerable weird? Like, this is really me. All my stuff, all my memories. It’s a little messy. It’s definitely not worth anything. But it’s everything.”
His tail brushes against my ankle, gentle and reassuring. “I see you, Aubrey. All of you.”
“Yeah?” I look up at him, heart pounding. “Even after watching me nearly cry over stupid Derek? God, I can’t believe he showed up like that.”
“You handled him beautifully.” Sundar moves closer, and the temperature in the room seems to rise. “Though I admit, seeing you stand up to him…” His eyes gleam. “It was incredibly attractive.”
“Oh, really?” I reach for him, fingers trailing over his scales. “You liked watching me get all fierce, huh?”
