Hearts Beat In Warm Places

Two Beats

"So let me get this straight," Clifford said, unbelief written throughout his whole face. "You met your soul mate back at the coffee shop – the very person you never wanted to meet for your whole life. And the reason why you started running after me at the corridor screaming bloody murder – which would painfully earn me a few scolding from Clarice by the way, thanks a lot man – was because you blame me for it? Because I was the one who sent you to the coffee shop in the first place?"

He only groaned, hands covering his face in shame. The both of them were at the back of the hospital, at the Miniature Park and garden. That was where they usually spend their lunch whenever they decided to eat together and was also where they ended after that little chase back inside – that only stopped when Clarice, the petite Spartan nurse in charge and most probably the most feared person on the whole hospital, shouted at them. And no one wanted to cross Clarice – no one.­

"When you say it like that, it makes me sound like an idiot." He muttered, nibbling lightly at a sandwich they bought at the hospital canteen. It tasted like crap – the food on the hospital canteen actually was nothing but overpriced crap – but it's not like they have any choice. Lunch was ending and Anthony refused to go back to the coffee shop and, unfortunately, the closest shop they could buy food from here was a mini mart a good twenty minutes away.

"Which you most certainly are! You know, sometimes I wonder how you even became a lawyer in the first place." His friend scoffed, slurping loudly at his cola.

He felt insulted at that. "My license is completely justified! I'm an amazing lawyer and you know that."

"Sure," The other mussed, hurriedly tearing a piece from Anthony's sandwich and ate it before he could react. "Whatever makes you sleep better at night."

"Watch it," He warned, gray eyes narrowed into a glare. "I know where you sleep. I can kill you and not go to jail – being a lawyer has its perks."

"Of course you do, we live in the same apartment, and I'm not worried anyway. I doubt you could hit any main arteries and, plus, you don't even know how to use a knife. Need I remind you cooks between us?"

His glare didn't falter in its intensity. "Where did you even get the idea I'll use a knife? We both know that's a lost cause. You're the Surgeon; obviously scalpels or anything sharp are your forte – not to mention the human body."

Clifford smirked at smugly, "I'm glad we had that cleared. But..." He trailed off, smile gone on his lips as he stared at him quizzically. "If not a knife, then what?"

It was Anthony's turn to scoff smugly, "My forte of course – Law Books."

"Law books, really?" his friend deadpanned, giving him an un-amused stare. "Are you pulling my leg right now?"

"Have you seen my books—?"

"How could I miss it? They're in our fucking living room." The other reminded.

He ignored it, and continued. "They're thick as hell! One – or a dozen – hard whacks on your head and its bye bye Clifford."

The surgeon muttered something under his breath before giving him an annoyed stare. "Listen, okay? You're an idiot. End of discussion." He knitted his eyebrows together and was about to retort something back when Clifford shushed him back. "First of all, you don't die from that. Concussion? Yes. Some kind of brain damage? Most probably. But instant death? No. Never. If you do whack me with your law books, then I'll still have a chance to kill you and then get thrown in either the jail or a mental institute – depends on what damage my brain had to suffer. But you probably already know that right?"

He looked away in guilt. Clifford only shook his head in slight amusement, slight exasperation. "So? Are you done evading the subject?"

Anthony released a long suffering sigh. "No. And if possible, I want to forget this whole thing even happened."

"But you can't." the surgeon pointed out. An irritated hiss was his answer.

"You think I don't know that? And really, why do I have a soul mate? Why didn't I become one of those few lucky people who never had a soul mate or never met theirs? My life would have been much easier."

"And since when had life been easy?" His friend retorted back. He only groaned and was about to reply when a succession of loud annoying beeps interrupted them. It was Clifford's beeper.

"Duty calls," the surgeon murmured and stood up from the bench, hands fumbling with the beeper.

"Is it serious?" He asked. Clifford shook his head and smiled lightly.

"Nah, just a reminder." The other didn't elaborate further. He only nodded, knowing the other would tell him all about it later. They hurriedly cleaned and threw all their mess and walked together back to the hospital, parting ways immediately after with pats on shoulders and bye's.