Ris had burst into tears that she didn’t quite understand, hopping over the gate and dropping to the floor where he stood. “Hi, you. I’m so sorry, Fitzy.” He had pressed his head into her chest, licking at her chin as she wrapped her arms around him, emotions she didn’t have a name for leaking out of her like a balloon. Time and patience.
She had been watching from her camera at work, the first time he’d played.
Ainsley was on a conference call, muted, his head bobbing along, mimicking the voice of a coworker she knew he didn’t like, as he folded a basket of laundry. Ris wasn’t sure if it was an invasion of his privacy or not. He knew she checked in on the dog regularly, and checked in on him just as much when Ainsleywas home, her heart feeling a little closer by watching them from afar.
As she watched, far away in Cambric Creek, Ainsley dropped a pair of freshly folded socks. They went bouncing across the floor, startling the greyhound in the corner, as he startled at everything. Fitz froze and then, before her eyes, pounced on the socks. Pounced with the ungainly enthusiasm of the puppy Ainsley had always wanted.
She’d wound up crying happy tears at her desk, watching Ainsley sink to the floor, unsure if he was laughing or crying as the dog held the socks in his mouth like a prize, his tail swinging back and forth as he was engulfed in Ainsley’s arms. Patience and time.
It was what she gave the Orc she loved. What they both gave to the dog they’d brought home. And it was what she tried to give herself when she decided to go through with relocating her idea to Cambric Creek. It had been months. Months she needed, she’d decided. The disappointing coffee shop experiment had drained her confidence, more than she’d realized.
Now the moment was here.
Ris pulled herself from the bed, not wanting to start the day behind schedule.
The apartment still smelled faintly of last night’s curry she thought, padding to the kitchen, pouring herself a cup from the coffee machine they had programmed to start the hour prior. Carrying it to the window, she watched the city wake up, smiling down when a tail thumped against the floor, huge dark eyes staring up, waiting.
“Good morning to you, too. Are you ready for breakfast?”
Her phone buzzed against the counter, a text message sent from Ainsley's phone with anurgenthighlight. She frowned, biting her lip as she tapped open, immediately snorting.
Is the coffee ready?
“You are an absolute sloth,” she called out, grinning when she heard his laughter drifting down the hall from the bedroom.
Ainsley staggered out a moment later, his eyes still soft from sleep, his hair still disheveled, having pulled on the loose pair of shorts that were his living room pajamas, after she’d pointed out that his walking around the apartment naked was probably a bad influence on Fitz. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head, stealing the coffee mug from her hands.
“Perfect timing.”
“Asloth.”
“Are we all ready for the big day?” He asked, ignoring her insults, turning to lean against the counter, grinning down at Fitz devouring his breakfast.
He ate willingly now whenever there was food in his bowl, and whatever insecurity or anxiety he had previously experienced had dissipated over time. Time and patience. It had become a theme in their home.We should probably paint it on the wall.
Ris nodded, a jerky motion. “As ready as I’ll ever be. I have to get dressed. Distract me with your inane chatter, please.”
The outraged sound he made was akin to a lizard choking on a banana, slapping his hand down against the counter, making the dog jump.
“I’m sorry, Fitzy. Your mother is beingincrediblyrude right now.”
Ris peeled off her tank top, flinging it at Ainsley. “My nipples want to hear your chatter, please.”
She walked off to the bedroom, laughing as she heard him take a deep breath, plowing into a story without any more prompting. That Ainsley would have a story was never a concern.
“Okay, so speaking of cults, I told you about the time I accidentally joined one, right? That’s why I mentioned the robes. I’d just broken up with this selkie who was, I’m pretty sure, just using me to upset her family. As if I’m anything but perfect. Sothat’s how we open, with emotionally fragile me. Like, a version of me that was doing a lot of nodding and smiling at strangers on the street.”
“You kind of still do that now, but okay. I love the set-up.”
“I was cycling through new hobbies,” he continued. “As you do. Sitar, obviously. A slam poetry class. But nothing is scratching the itch. I need something tactile. I wanna get my hands dirty. I’m leaving the bar where they do the poetry, and I see this flyer. Hand drawn, soothing earth tones. Says ‘Community Clay.’ That’s it, that’s the whole pitch right there. Obviously, I’m in.”
“Obviously.”
“So I go. It’s in the basement of a sports club, which I thought was weird, but it’s the city, so you take what you can get with space, right? It’s kind of incensey, but I’m pretty sure clay smells weird.”
Ris shook her head, grinning in the mirror as she finished her hair, hanging up the straightener. This was exactly what she needed.
“There’s this minotaur who hugs me immediately upon entering. Full body. I mean, we were dick-to-dick, Nanaya. No warning. Tells me, ‘Welcome home.’”
