Threefold

4| perfect

Last night was great with Anya. We set everything straight and now I'm on my way to lunch in the office in an awesome mood. That is, until, I perceive Julian, who is conspicuously late. On a regular basis, Julian would inform me if he isn't coming in to work or if he is ill and needs a sick day off. Nonetheless, today, he arrived hours late without any consent. He usually gets into work at about 5a.m. and finishes off the work leftover from the prior day by lunch.

He's just now getting in.

And he looks pretty fucked up, too.

"Whew," I render as he rapidly pours himself a steaming mug of coffee, "You get into a fuckin' fight with your mattress?"

His eyes trek to me wittily, as if he has a clever comeback, but his actions show that he's too weak and tantalized. I never saw that coming. How can anything bring him down? I imagined him to be superior and impersonal, never desolate.

Julian roams to the table, plopping down into the seat with no enthusiasm. I figure I should become a man and help the guy out. After all, I'm sure we have the title of being friends, right?

"You got something on your mind, Julian?"

He sips the black coffee and I almost puke. Since when did he find interest in creamless coffee? I thought he was indulged in flavors. I'm mindful that he's a Britishy kinda guy and adores sousing in sapidity, unless that's just an offensive stereotype. I really thought British people were fond of baked breads dipped in loose-leaf teas. Maybe I'm thinking of my culture.

"I'm not feeling too ace today," he utters languishing.

This activates concern in me for far too many reasons, but the most significant reason, is because I'm feeling superb. I'm feeling the exact opposite of him, therefore, why shouldn't I share that feeling with my only friend? Or at least try.

"You wanna talk about it?" I question.

He heavily sighs, closing his eyes for a short moment, and then reopening them widely, "I met a girl a while back."

My eyebrows angle low in befuddlement. Isn't meeting a girl a good thing? I'm awfully sure it is. "And...?"

"And what?" He sasses.

I pull up a chair beside the emotionally disconnected man and begin smirking. "What's the problem? I thought meeting a woman is a good thing. Sometimes...?"

Julian nods, budging the coffee mug to the center of the table. He scratches his head in search of the appropriate words. I go wide-eyed waiting for his response.

"She's a bit dishy and I'm not commonly used to it."

.....What?

After I scope my mind of British terms, I burst into laughter from his non-jocular statement, "Wait, what!? You're not used to a woman being attractive?" I cackle some more, but then strive to sober up because of his weary facial expression. I'm hoping he isn't one of those over-emotionally modest guys that only admires the women that have always, and will always be, available. The women that are lonely and will continue to be until the day they die. "I'm confused Julian. Are you jealous of other men approaching her or something?" I chug my bottle of water, struggling immensely to obscure the legit smirk on my face. I feel if I laugh again, he'll kill me with a dagger and I can't afford to jeopardize my date with Anya. Not for him, anyway.

"We've been dating on and off for quite some time now, but last night was the finisher. I was bladdered the entire night, because we were supposed to just eat dinner and have a proper date. But, no. Every second of the bleeding night I had to witness my date be approached by even the slimiest of berks. I left the restaurant furious."