Facio ut Facias: I do for you, as you do for me

Tabula Rasa

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
8 years earlier continuation:

You awake in Veritas's bed and take a minute to process your senses. You feel the absence of warmth and look over to see him gone. The emptiness feels cold, which reminds you that you're naked right now. You groan at the inconvenience and look around the room for something to temporarily cover yourself. Of course he doesn't have anything lying around- something to be expected, as his house is scarily clean. You hear the TV playing in another room, so he must still be in proximity.

As your last resort, you yell, "Veritas!" You wait there for a moment and sit up in bed, using the covers to shield your chest. You see the doorknob turn and then finally realize how awkward this conversation will be, which is a factor you didn't quite consider when you woke up.

When he enters the room you look kind of surprised. You'd never seen him wear something so casual- just a t-shirt and sweatpants. It's cute and for a moment for admire him, but you snap out of it, looking at him like a dear in headlights.

He returns your stare blankly, "Did you need something?"

"I uh- yes," you nod, "my clothes."

"I put them in the wash," he states.

"Oh," you say. Him washing your clothes felt like an invitation to stay longer. You assumed you would just leave this morning, and this would be a one time thing, but truly, he wants you to stay. "So what should I w-"

He interrupts, "you can borrow." He turns away and shuffles through his cabinets, pulling out a plain shirt and sports shorts. He lays them on the bed, and turns away to leave the room. He then shuts the door, leaving just the silence of the bedroom. He always has a very pragmatic approach to conversation- same old Veritas, but you expected him to be at least slightly awkward after what happened last night. In high school he was always the flustered one. You kinda miss that.

You uncover the sheets and stand up, but pause when you feel a pain. "Fuck," you mutter. You're sore- really sore. You try your best to tough it out and put on the T-shirt and shorts he laid out. Definitely not your size, but that's to be expected. You walk into the bathroom and before you look into the mirror, you notice how clean it is. How anyone can maintain such a tidy living space? You don't know, but it's Veritas, so it's best not to question.

When you see your reflection, you can only think of one word: disheveled. Your hair is messy, and your eyes have dark circles and a red tint from the crying. In a futile attempt to clean up, you wash your face and fix your hair. You take a deep breath in to prepare yourself to see Veritas- is good morning and appropriate thing to say after last night? Hm...Whatever, you conclude.

You leave the room, walking through the hall to the kitchen. It's spacious and connects to the living room where the television is playing as background noise. You see Veritas at the island in the kitchen, head resting on his fist while sifting through papers. He takes a sip from his cup of coffee and pauses when he sees you standing at the door way.

"Good morning," Veritas says calmly, "I made you coffee." He's wearing reading glasses, which you find kind of cute. He gestures to the opposite end of the island, as if he purposely chose a far seat, and you see your drink. You sit down and look up at him. He's focused on his work, scribbling things down while holding the bridge of his nose in annoyance at whatever it is he cannot solve. Although the TV is playing, the silence drowns out the background noise, leaving tension in the room. You take a sip of the coffee, which is actually very well brewed.

Veritas sighs which prompts you to ask the question, "What are you working on?"

He looks up and readjust his glasses, putting down his work. "I've been commissioned to solve an issue for this machine, but it's impossible. The equation seriously doesn't check out," he replies with annoyance.