Yawn {Phan}

five

dan

I stand in my kitchen, having paused skinning the apple I am holding as I stare at my trash bin, as if I think that if I look irritated enough, the problem will just solve itself.

Full.

I roll my eyes at the thought of actually having to do exercise to take the bag out of the bin and carry it all the way to the can at the end of my driveway. Putting the apple, half of its skin still hanging off, down on the counter along with my knife, I begrudgingly walk over to the bin and take the bag out, closing my nasal cavity while I tie a knot in the plastic handles. Within a moment, I am out the door and heading up my driveway.

I am so focused on not dragging the bag on the ground that I almost knock into a man who is jogging down my street.

"Sorry sir, I really didn't mean t..." he trails off mid word. I recognize him too. "Hey, weren't you shopping at Orc's Nest like four days ago?"

"On Monday? Yeah, that was me. I bought Tokaido from you."

"Thank heaven it was you. That would be awkward if it wasn't."

"It really would. Say, what're you doing around here? You were just in London."

"I could ask the same about you being in London. This is your house, isn't it?" He gestures to the modest building behind me. I nod.

"Yeah, home sweet home. Your shop is the closest place to me that had the game I needed. But you never answered my question. I hope you don't mind me asking."

"Oh, not at all! I'm here for my grandmother's birthday. It's tomorrow."

"What are you doing in front of my house, then?"

"Oh." Phil goes quiet and looks to the side while he speaks. "I kind of got into a right argument with my granddad and I decided to take a walk to blow off steam." I can see his eyes becoming misty as though he is about to cry. Those beautiful, blue...

"Do you want to come in for tea?" I find myself asking the words before I think about the consequences. He glances back at me, and for a moment I try to formulate an apology for being too forward when he cracks a smile.

"Sure thing, Dan."

phil

"Sure thing, Dan."

I mentally cringe and scold myself for using his name. Is it strange that I remembered it after all this time? He doesn't notice, though, and after he swings the trash bag in his hands into the bin, he beckons for me to follow him in.

His home looks somewhat small on the outside, but it feels perfectly comfortable as soon as I step in. Immediately we are in what I assume is the kitchen. Under my feet is a black doormat with the word "chill" embroidered into the centre. I wipe my feet subtly and begin to notice the room. The floor is a brown, swirly kind of tile that I envy, compared to the black and white ones Lotus and I have back home. To my left is a long counter that follows the corner of the room and only stops at the staircase on the left wall, as well as in the middle of the left wall as to accommodate for the stove. To my right is the right wall, and on this wall is the refrigerator. On the other side of it is a large, floor length pantry and yet another L-shaped counter which doubles as a breakfast bar.

Dan turns left once he enters and picks up a half peeled apple, resuming what he was doing. "If you want," he says to me, "you can go ahead and sit in the lounge. I don't want to keep you standing in here, that'd be rude of me."

"No." I object a bit too quickly, and so before I speak again I take a breath. "No, I'll stay in here."

"Alright," he says. "When I'm done with this, should I put on the kettle for you?"

"Not if it's too much trouble."

"No, I was going to make some for myself anyway."

"That would be great, then. I guess I need some tea to calm down from earlier."

"If that's what you need, I can hook you up. I bet a guy like you has never had tea like mine before."

"I bet I haven't," I laugh.

dan

My hands shake as I peel the apple. I hope he doesn't notice.

Why is he talking to me?

Hasn't he smelled me?

phil

I take a whiff of the tea Dan has made me. "It's Ashwagandha tea," he explains. "Not what you had in mind, was it?" He laughs nervously.

One sip of the tea and I'm in love. The hot liquid burns my tongue slightly, but not enough to hurt me. It has a caramel taste, but it doesn't have the same consistency. I look at Dan with a face signalling to him that I like it. He lets out a breath he was apparently holding and chuckles, shaking his head.

"Wouldn't want to give you bad tea the first time you came round," he says. "Ashwagandha is supposed to clear your mind and help get rid of stress and hypertension. I like it a lot, but not as much as I like lavender or lemon balm tea."

"That's really fascinating, Dan," I smile, "I'll have to learn how to make it sometime."

"I can give you a recipe if you'd like. Just don't let me forget."

"Thank you."

We talk for a good half hour about things we have in common. Turns out that "shitty music you like, Phil!" that Lotus isn't a fan of isn't so bad after all, at least not in Dan's eyes. He also shares my obsession with Tumblr and random animes you can come across on Crunchyroll. I find myself becoming more and more comfortable with him as each minute passes.

There is a sudden silence that falls among us. Dan twiddles his thumbs and I take a long sip of my tea, stalling until I think of what to say. I consider asking him about what it's like to live with his personality type, but I doubt myself, thinking that it may be a touchy subject for him. People like Dan are often discriminated against. Still though, any conversation would feel better than none at all.

"Dan?" I ask, my voice small.

"Mm?" he responds, halfway through a sip of tea.

"I...hope you don't mind me asking, but what it is like? You know, with your neurocategory and all..."

"Oh, er, it's just fine when I'm by myself. I always feel pretty good, well rested. I don't really get out much so I have a lot of time to look after my health and well being and stuff." He gives a halfhearted smile and takes a breath.

"How much time would that be?"

He blinks and looks away. "Pretty much most of...who am I kidding. Nearly all the time."

"Can't you, like, have friends over or something?" I lean in, interested.

Dan looks at his lap, suddenly becoming very interested in his fingernails. He mumbles something sounding like "Idunhavanee."

"Please?"

He looks up, brow furrowed and eyes glistening. "I don't have any friends, Phil," he says, a sudden intensity in his wavering voice. "You should know this. We never have any friends. Our goddamn society tells everyone I'm lazy and incompetent and can't hold relationships because I'm always asleep. I can't get a job because when I go in for an interview, the boss smells me and sends me off, thinking I'm too lazy to get any work done. Whenever I meet someone new, they smell me and try not to get too close because I'm too busy sleeping to manage a relationship with them. I'll always just be alone, Phil. Don't fucking rub it in." By now he is crying, and so am I.

"Dan..." I start, but I cannot finish. Dan cuts in.

"Why are you still here, Phil?" Dan whimpers.

It might be a bit too much, but I move closer to him and envelop him into a tight embrace. "I want to be your friend, Dan."

HOLY CRAP MY HEART CANNOT TAKE THIS