The Necrodancer

Chapter 9- Date

Warning: rape mention

Cicero went to the coffee shop to meet Thomas wearing real clothes, not the getup they were wearing that morning. They wore a mustard yellow sweater, black jeggings, a black beanie, and pointed black leather ankle boots. Thomas was in the same booth he was in the first time they met there, the night Cicero was mauled by their teacher's assistant.

"Aww, I liked the onesie!" Thomas whined sarcastically when Cicero sat down across the table from the human after ordering a peppermint mocha.

"Well, I'm actually awake now, so I thought I'd put some real clothes on," the reaper chuckled. "How are you?"

Thomas smiled. "I'm all right. What about you?"
"I'm fine. I've got a busy weekend ahead, though," they sighed exasperatedly. "I'm leaving town for some... family stuff."

"Oh," Thomas' expression turned serious, "is everything all right?"

Cicero's eyes went wide. "Of course, yeah, everything's fine!"

"Oh," the human relaxed, "good. What's going on then?"
"Oh, I'm just visiting my grandma. She's got some stuff that needs taking care of around the house. She won't hire anyone, but there isn't any nearby family to help besides me. Reyna and Tilde are always busy during the weekends with... well, you know... so I'll be going alone."

Thomas smiled. "Good luck, then."

The reaper nodded. "Let's get started." They opened up their notes, textbooks, and laptops. "Okay, how about I read your proposal, and you read mine."

The human nodded in agreement. "Sounds good!" They exchanged laptops and notes and took a few minutes to read. "Wow, your handwriting is really nice."

"Thanks." Cicero grinned a little as they read through his proposal on lengthening the time period for the statute of limitations for rape and domestic abuse victims. "This is really good. You've got some good arguments and evidence to back yourself up."

Thomas chuckled, "Yeah, and now I know why you were so passionate about the death penalty talk today." Cicero's proposal was about abolishing the death penalty and the mental effects it had on prisoners who were facing it and those who were not. "You've got... a lot here. You could probably right the whole thing with what you have and turn it in right now and get a good grade."

Cicero shrugged. "At least yours isn't really debatable. Mine is controversial, and there are arguments against my claims, which I have to include in the paper, of course. Your claims aren't really opposed. Who would? Rapists? Abusers?"

Thomas shrugged again. "Well, that just means that I have to go look for my opposition to include in the paper. We immediately get a quarter of the grade off if we don't have the counterargument."

"Right, right." They gave their laptops back to one another so they could start working. A barista delivered their drinks to their booth. The two students thanked her and slipped her £3 before she headed back behind the counter. "Mr. Vanson... I'm not sure if he likes you or hates you," the human chuckled.

Cicero grinned mischievously. The mere thought of calling a demon "Mr. Vanson" made the reaper want to laugh until they cried. "I think maybe a little bit of both."

Thomas shrugged. "Maybe."

While they worked, Thomas noticed how tired Cicero looked; he attributed it to the college load. The truth was that the souls of England never stopped coming to them. They looked no older than him, yet he felt as though they were much, much older. Although it was because of injury, they walked like an old, feeble person, like their bones would crumble to dust at any moment. Under their sarcasm and apparent emotionlessness, he felt that they were very wise somehow. He also felt that they would beat the shit out of anyone for the smallest reasons.

"You know, Cecilia, next week..."

Cicero looked up from their notes. "Yeah?"

"Maybe we could... take a break from the project and... see a movie or something." When Cicero's expression didn't change, he added, "Or, we could stay in and watch something, or just have dinner, you know, it doesn't have to be out-"

"I'd love to," the reaper interrupted with the tiniest of smiles. They now realized they were being asked on a date of sorts.

Thomas' entire countenance lit up. "Really?"

Cicero wanted to say that yes, really, because you are a tolerable human being that seems to genuinely give two shits about me. Since they couldn't, they said, "Why not? You're pretty cool."

"I don't know," the human shrugged, "it's hard to figure out what you think of me, if you like me at all or hate my guts."

The reaper nodded, shrugging, too. "I get that a lot," they sighed happily, smiling.

When it got late, Thomas rode the bus with Cicero to make sure they got home safely. They sat next to one another in silence, stealing glances at one another every now and then.

"You know," Thomas murmured suddenly, "that yellow on your sweater..." Cicero looked up, a little startled, as they rubbed the fabric of their sweater between their thumb and forefinger. "It really brightens you up... kinda makes you look like a sunflower." He scratched his ear. "It's a good colour on you."

Cicero would never admit it to anyone, but their favourite flower was the sunflower. They admired how they grew towards the light and had their pretty yellow petals but their dark insides. The reaper liked to think about people like sunflowers. The pretty petals are what they are on the outside, what they let people see, but their insides are mysterious and unseeable, only visible when they open up for you.

The reaper blushed and nudged his shoulder with theirs. "Thanks, Thomas."

Thomas nudged their shoulder back. "You're welcome."

When the bus halted at Cicero's stop, Thomas helped them down the stairs, letting them hold his hand for support on their left side while they used their cane on the right. "Have a good night and weekend, okay?"

Cicero nodded. "I'll see you next week."

Thomas smiled. "See you." He held onto their hand for as long as he could before he had to pull his arm back in so the doors could close. Cicero waved and watched as Thomas got back in his seat on the bus as it drove away; he waved back with a big smile that the reaper could see as he got farther away.

"I think he may actually like me," Cicero muttered to themselves as they began walking to their house, drawing their black leather jacket around themselves with one arm as they used their cane in the other. "What a terrible choice?"