Solomon

Chapter 1

"Spare change..." Sol groaned, sounding the lone presence of a coin inside the can he held in his hand."...spare, change?" he gazed up at the usually starlit Frascan night-sky after hearing the hushed rustling of nearby trees.

"rain..." He mumbled, gathering the litter of belongings he's amassed over the past few months, pondering of heading home despite being decided that he has to stay. A huge downpour was looming and yet the thought of staying relatively dry and famished did not sound like an appealing alternative to wet but sated.

Sol was just done packing his stuff in his scavenged red leather bag, when he started hearing the distinct sound of well spaced and long strides echoing faintly. The lass turned on his heel to confirm his suspicion.

There he was, a few avenues away and was barely making any scene yet Sol could already tell that the approaching figure was indeed Ynigo. Surely, the streets were barely occupied but Sol knows that he could tell and feel when the other was within the vicinity even if the place was teeming with nobodies.

Ynigo did not seem to have the same kind cognition though, as he was casually yet vigilantly glancing around... looking for a lass sporting a fashionably tattered red leather satchel. Sol knew this and could reason out that like anyone else in this place, Ynigo was fictional.

No matter how real he felt when he carried him in his arms a month ago. No matter how sincered his voice sounded when it broke when he cried when they first met... he know that Ynigo was indeed just an afterimage of the author's suppositions; and yet, all of these knowledge goes down the drain at every given moment of his existence.

"Good evening, little miss." Ynigo's baritone voice echoed as the lad's facial features and stature emerged completely from the shadows cast by the trees and nearby lamp posts. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

So considerate, Sol thought. He remembered just how much effort he put in ensuring that he would not turn out as a dreamy knight in shining armor character. He reckoned that he failed.

"I was just about to leave..." He jumped on his sole and flashed the man a sweet smile, all while being very careful not to show too much excitement at the other's arrival.

Ynigo smiled only to have his brows furrow at the recollection of the impending rain. He knew... they both knew how problematic the soon-to-be weather will be for the homeless lass that Sol was.

"I'm always on the go, mister! I leave when i feel like leaving." Sol continued in an effort to dispel the brooding thoughts which was already taking up half of Ynigo's consciousness at the time. It seemed effective, Sol thought. Judging from the sound of his stiffed laughter at the haughty and adorable display of his juvenile willfulness.

"Right, I always forget that." He sheepishly said, combing his hair with his slender fingers. The other could not stop but to muse and again remember how much of a work he had to put in to ensure that this man would not turn out too well. Striking a balance between prince charming-like and realistic was like splitting hair. he put so much work on making sure that the man would not end up looking too good and sounding too good-- but here he was, looking like a movie start even if he was only dressed in plain white shirt, straight-cut jeans and a pair of secondhand sneakers.

"...yeah, i should have toned it down a bit more on the height." Sol said, speaking his mind unintentionally.

"Ha?" Ynigo whined in confusion. This was met with a nonchalant I didn't say anything face paired and a shoulder shrug on Sol's side.

"Anyhow... sorry I couldn't get you more this time." The lad jiggled the brown takeout box in his hand, reverting the sweet picture painted on his face. "It's about to rain, I feel like you should head straight home... or anywhere more dry, no?"

"The street is my home, you do know that right." Sol fake retorted, before snatching the bag of leftovers. "These ones look even better than yesterday!"

"You always come up with clever comebacks." Ynigo chuckled, combing Sol's disheveled mess of a hair only to ruffle it up a few seconds later.

"Careful!" Sol exclaimed which sent the lad an inch back, his face looking all pale at the thought of having offended the seemingly fragile lass of a rascal. "... you'll soil your hands."

"I can always wash at work." Ynigo replied, patting the fluff of mess he made. "My manager's not in today so you can come with me and stay in the loading dock until the rain stops."

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The rain poured hard and and fast just as we reached the entrance of Cour a'Iqbalien-- Ygo's place of labor. The two-storey tall blood-red poles on either side of the entrance signaled the demarcation between the place's facilities and the outside, which included the spacious parking lot and and the walkway leading up to the main entrance.

Ygo and I would have used the back entrance but that would have not worked well for us both since the said entrance lies at the very back of the infrastructure. A good 15 minute worth of brisk-walking would have been fine if not for the fact that Ygo only had one umbrella for the deluge of sleet which has been going on for several minutes now.

"I don't think it's going to stop any time soon." Ygo said, looking up to the starless sky. "I feel like it's best for you to stay here until the end of my shift."

"...but your guests?" I squeaked. I know he said that the manager was out but that does not mean that he'd be free from prying eyes of his co-workers.

"The snitches are out too!" Ygo said casually, folding the red umbrella. "The manager took them to the other place as additional help"

I know I wrote this place out of imagination, using my best judgment at the time; but somehow i could not bring myself to like the out this place but that did not keep me from being in awe; The quintessential experience of genuine Frascan cuisine can only be claimed by a few places in this small country, and the Heart of Iqbalien holds the throne and crown in the hall of the gods of food preparation.