Dorky Green Eyes (BXB)

~ The Question ~

Several weeks on, after the Murillo party, where we became friends with the Schwartz family, the lesbian Lebanese couple and their child, the Robinson family, and the Walker family, Ryan and I finally settled into a schedule. He'd be up and about by seven, and he'd be out the door by eight fifteen. Meanwhile, I'd be up at eight, and we'd work from nine until about five. I'd go off and do errands and we'd converge on the apartment at about six.

But after a few more weeks, Ryan began violating the schedule, coming back to the apartment later than expected. Some nights, I wouldn't see him until the following day, passed out on the couch.

"The hours are killing me," he told me one night, while we ate macaroni and cheese for the umpteenth time. "I can't wait for this company to merge already."

I dropped my plastic spoon, unable to eat any more. "I want real food," I mumbled under my breath. "I'm tired of this crap." I glanced over at the mail pile on the counter and sighed loudly. "We have so many bills we need to pay." Both of us having collected a tremendous amount of student debt that was also accumulating, it meant that we had barely any money for anything ever.

"I'm going to ask for a raise," he told me bluntly.

"I haven't gotten paid yet from my illustrations last week. Maybe that could get us above water, and to real food," I told him, now playing with the cooling, orange noodles.

"Adrian, we can't ask for another extension on the rent. The landlord doesn't really like us."

"He doesn't like anyone in the building," I pointed out. "But...I don't think you should ask."

"Why not? Adrian, I'm sure my boss won't mind. He likes me."

"But asking for a raise, out of the blue, with no specific reason will not get you one. Saying that you're trying to support you and your boyfriend won't help either," I said, standing and dumping the noodles in a Tupperware container.

"I know Mr. Carter isn't - "

"Mr. Carter is sexist, for one thing. And did you see how uncomfortable he was when I came to visit you? I stood next to you and what did he ask the next day?" I asked, leaning on the counter.

Ryan glanced down. "He asked if you were...the 'f' word."

I went to Ryan's side and grabbed his shoulders. "Please, do not ask him. I-I'll get a third job; we can, work on the weekends. Just...please, don't."

"I could say you're my significant other..." Ryan trailed off, realizing it wasn't a good idea at all. "I, I could say you're..." He grunted, Ryan's jaw tensing up. "I could call you my fiancé." But nevertheless, Ryan put his hands to his temples and smashed his elbows on the table. "Why did he have to be...him?"

"Sweetness, after the merger in two weeks, you won't be answering to him anymore, remember that," I told him, dumping the remaining mac and cheese from the pot into the Tupperware container. "Just, please try to not overwhelm yourself."

"Too late," he mumbled, placing his head down on the table and pushing his hair up and over his head. I was tempted to go over and ask him to do breathing exercises, something I asked whenever someone was getting overwhelmed, but I didn't. I hadn't seen him like that since he broke up with me in high school.

I circled back to the table to collect our plates. "I could get a th – "

"Gah, I feel like my head's exploding," he mumbled.

There were several moments where I played with the noodles in the kitchen, now cold on my plate. I put them into the Tupperware container as well, and the plastic ware in the sink. "Wanna tear up the carpet?" I asked innocently.