Through Space and Time

30. Think about

“I really can’t help you.”

Brett sighed the words millions of times the past weeks, that it came out of him automatically as soon as he reached his desk. Yes, his “clients” camped there, quite too long for them to name their own chairs, have their own things (research materials) mixed in with the bland office supplies. The three hung out and got closer inside the little of Brett’s cubicle space.

Glasses plopped down his swivel chair, same as a tray of coffee and snacks Brett brought for him and his newfound friends-- no, just one. He cocked a brow at that. The god of hard work's eyes darted around the visible area of the office space against his cubicle dividers, no sign of the goddess. He asked, “where’s Lanna?”

Ray ground his teeth at the question, “yeah,” crumpled the issue of the dirty magazine he was reading for research and threw it hard on the floor in irritation, “she has her flora and fauna.”

Brett said nothing at the early morning mood swing of the god of marriage. He inwardly shook his head and quietly mumbled at his coffee, “the issue’s more of a problem to him...” before he took a sip.

-

Ray watched Brett do his repetitive desk job. He sighed and stretched his neck as if he did a lot more than read the dirty magazines the whole day as the other was engrossed at his work, which the gray-suited man couldn't comprehend, “aren’t you bored?”

“Hm? Nope,” Brett looked up from his names checklist, “why?”

“You do the same thing every day," Ray's hands waved circles in the air as he spoke, "and it seems so easy because you finish it early and just clean up non-existent dust on your desk for the rest of the afternoon until you clock-out.”

True, his small cubicle doesn't get dirty or disarrange, heck, with the few things in there, there's nothing for Brett to clean or tidy up, to begin with.

“And I’m getting sick of this cramped cubicle.”

Brett arranged his finished stack of papers before storing them away on the file drawer behind him. He sighed, his cubicle’s not quite fit for persons to be camping, to be honest, and the god of marriage might be bummed out for the lack of variety in his activities, “you can leave if you want--

“let’s go down to the mortal realm!”

“Umm... with me?”

Even the god of hard work tried to hide the glimmer of wonder and curiosity in his eyes, Ray caught them. As he smiled to himself, “yeah!” the handsome man in gray playfully nudged Brett on the shoulder, “it’ll be fun!”

Brett kind of wanted to go, but he’s got work. And there were these two itching figures. Glasses pointed at the god of marriage’s twin darkness spawns, “what about them?”

“We’re coming with you!” the twins said in unison. With much protest and disapproval in their motions, “no to Ray trying to get rid of us again behind our backs!”

Ray pinched the bridge of his nose, a troublesome headache, “I almost forgot about them...”

“Hmm...” Brett put a hand on his chin, deep in thought. If Ray can’t get rid of those two because they are a part of him, “why can’t you just accept them, Ray? Anyone who’d been alive wanted to live somehow.”

The twin creatures of the night squealed with admiration to Brett, hugged him in delight. The skimpy god gave them light and hope. Just so happy, Lust promised with a wide-toothed grin, “I won’t call you pipsqueak anymore~”

“You’re on their side, huh?” Ray crossed his arms.

“Not really,” Brett scratched his neck, and he felt the arms around him loosed, “but you can’t get rid of them... so... try to live with your demons... I guess?”

The twin darkness spawns squealed louder, pinched, and kissed Brett’s cheeks. They prayed that the god of marriage will let them stay. Both ladies swore to do the dirty work for the gray-suited man.

As if the god of marriage does any.

So, Ray finally decided to (or convinced to) keep the twins at bay, to call upon them just in case.

-

Out of goodwill, Ray invited Brett to stroll around the Earth,

for a change of pace or a breather,

but not even in his wildest dreams he ever thought of,

this may break him or make him bitter.