Monday came and with it a new work week. Montag woke up feeling sad, it had been ages since he felt genuine sadness, it was replaced by indifference a long time ago and he was actually surprised by the development. He pondered for a moment and came to the realization that the cause was probably the band ending and Julian not speaking to him anymore. He was used to the man checking on him regularly and trying to include him in his plans and conversations.
He mentally slapped his pathetic self, he was 25 years old, there was no time to grovel about the situation. By now he was aware everything ended. Love and friendship, whilst real, they still were finite. There was no point in getting attached to other people when everyone eventually left. He cringed mentally; those melancholic thoughts were inappropriate for a grown man.
He took his time performing his daily routine, his inability to maintain a healthy sleep schedule despite being constantly tired, made it easier for him to be a punctual person, so he had time to spare getting ready. He looked at the calendar on his phone. May 20. Two days to the 15th anniversary of his mother's death and three to his 26th birthday. Decades will pass and he'll never understand why she decided to off herself that day.
He took his antidepressant with his last sip of coffee, packed his water bottle, a sandwich and a pack of cigarettes and stormed out the door. Being a clerk at a library wasn't going to make him rich but it was a busy job with little time to think or get distracted.
The library was 5 blocks away from his apartment, saving him money on transport. He entered the building, greeted his coworkers and went straight to the back room to start working on the books left from last week. He tied up his hair, washed and dried his hands and put on a pair of gloves. Given the number of books left to fix he was confident in not being idle.
"Montag, someone's asking for you at the front desk" two hours later, Marina, the library assistant, touched his shoulder to get his attention.
"For me? But I don't deal with visitors"
"You're the only Montag Welsh working here. Go before Paul gets pissed"
"I was already in the zone" He got up and stretched his arms "I'll deal with it and take the opportunity to use my smoking break"
He left the room and approached the front desk, a man dressed in a white t-shirt and black jeans had his head down checking his phone, his brunette hair looked shiny and his tan skin appeared as if warm to the touch. As soon as Montag saw that skin, he knew who it was.
"What are you doing here?"
Alex looked up and those hazel eyes pierced through his own stopping him in place. Montag felt a pang in his heart and his hands started sweating. He didn't remember him looking so attractive. It was probably the morning sun playing tricks with his mind.
"We need to talk" Alex used the same old boring expressionless voice "I won't leave until you agree to, at least, meet me later"
"For God's sake, where do you get your lines? You always sound as if out of a drama" Montag stood beside him and handed him his phone "save your number and I'll text you later to meet"
"No, I need you to give me an exact hour." Alex pushed his phone away "I also don't need your number, Andrea had it written down alongside this address"
"Why would your sister have my job address?"
"I have anxiety and sometimes she forgets to charge her phone which makes it hard to find her so she has a list of her acquaintances' relevant info for me to use"
"What does anxiety have to do with that?"
"I'm prone to get worried and make up catastrophes in my mind. I'm working on it"
"I thought your anxiety was only social"
"I have some symptoms of generalized anxiety disorder but I don't fill the whole criteria" He sighed in frustration "So? Time?"
"You're also impatient. I see" Montag pretended to give it some thought "I leave work at 5, there's a café around the corner, we can meet there at 5:15"
"Thank you, I'll see you there"
He left without a second glance. Montag watched him walk away and noticed he didn't feel sad anymore nor did he need a smoke. In spite of being an anxious man, his presence appeared to calm him, like a buffer. He'd never meet anyone who made him feel like that.
Alex looked at his phone for the fifth time since arriving at the café. He ordered a Cappuccino and waited for Montag to arrive. He decided to be the bigger person and try to fix things, having too much on his mind to keep on worrying about Andrea's guilt and self-recrimination on the situation. He witnessed Julian comforting and reassuring her but she was blind to the fact that she had no responsibility in the whole issue.
"You're here early" Montag's deep voice snapped him out of his thoughts
"I'm always early"
He lifted up his gaze and stopped breathing. Montag's hair got undone and several strands fell on his face, his cheeks were red and his breathing labored. He looked so young with his hair down.
"I also like to be on time. That's why I came running" He moved the chair with his foot while tying his hair in a bun with both hands "I was so focused on fixing a book, I lost track of time"
"You fix books? I've heard that's a meticulous job, lots of opportunities for mistakes"
"I bring them back to life" He smiled while looking at his hands "I've been working there for 4 years, since I dropped out of college. They were kind enough to hire me despite my lack of experience and at first, I was just cleaning and organizing books but I quickly discovered my ability for restoring them and I've been doing that ever since"
Alex was so enthralled listening to him and watching his lips move that he didn't notice himself resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his hands.
"You're good at everything you do" he whispered
"Except for being a nice person, according to everyone" Montag interrupted him.
Alex blushed and lifted his head from his hands. Montag's words broke the illusion. He looked and sounded like an infatuated teenager. Maybe the floor could open up and swallow him.
'Is this some sort of delayed puberty? I'm making a fool of myself'
"So? What do you need me for?"
Those words flooded his head with images of Montag kissing him, stroking his face, singing for him.
'Singing for me?'
He sat up rigidly and made a mental note of writing an email to his shrink. As far as he knew Venlafaxine was supposed to decrease your sexual desire not increase it, but he could be wrong. He needed to know if he could do something about it. He took a deep breath and focused on the issue at hand.
"I need you to apologize to Julian and by extension to Andrea since he's not going to let it slide if you don't talk to her"
"I won't do that"
"Good afternoon, guys, I'm sorry for the delay, we had an issue with the espresso machine" The waitress put the cup of cappuccino on the table and turned to look at Montag. She perked up and smiled seductively "Gosh, you have such long eyelashes, do you use something to make them grow?"
"It's just genes. Could you please bring me a latte and a cream cheese scone? There was no waiter nearby and I couldn't order earlier" He spoke so flatly he could be a robot
She deflated like a balloon "Of course. I'll be back shortly"
She left and Alex took a sip of his coffee. He regretted it immediately; he was so focused on the interaction between the other two he didn't pay attention to how hot the drink was. He set the cup on the table loudly and sucked in his breath through his mouth trying to cool his tongue.
"Did you burn your mouth?" Montag dragged his chair closer "let me see, open up"
Alex shook his head and covered his mouth self-consciously. He wasn't going to show his tongue to Montag, just the thought was making his body all hot and his heart beat faster.
"Don't be stubborn, what if you have a blister?" Montag went to grab his face and he dropped his head back, panicked. "I'm sorry, I forgot about the no touching, at least let me see"
He removed his hands and opened his mouth, defeated. Montag moved his face closer and started inspecting his lips, he then gestured for him to stick his tongue out so he could look at it. Alex did as he was told and stuck his tongue out with his mouth still open.
"Enough" Montag got up pushing his chair back and quickly picked his jacket up in his arms covering the front of his thighs "I need to go to the bathroom; I won't be long"