Berries and Greed

After finishing my huge, squashed burger dripping with cheese and topped with crispy bacon—which was, without exaggeration, the best thing I’d ever eaten—I managed a few fries before giving Greid the rest. He stuffed them into his mouth, bloodshot eyes glued to the TV.

I groaned as I leaned forward to set my empty container down on the coffee table. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much beef in my life.”

“Mmm. S’good, right?” Greid mumbled around a mouthful before picking up his giant cup of soda to wash it down.

My teeth ached as I took a sip of my own. It was wincingly sweet and fizzy, but delicious. I had no idea how I’d react to the caffeine and sugar loaded into it. Hopefully the pound of beef in my stomach would soak it all up.

My belly strained against the front of my pants as I sank back into the couch. If I’d known Greid any better, I would’ve popped the button to give myself some more breathing room. Despite suspecting that the bubbles were probably bloating me even more, I kept sipping my soda as I watched the Smiths bickering about whether to go over to the Aktonars and ask why they were digging a load of holes in their backyard.

“Why are they digging the holes?” I asked Greid.

“Huh?” He set down his own containers, then fished another joint out of his tin and dragged one of the blankets over his head and shoulders to wear it as a cloak. “Oh. Just a tunnel network for the kids to play in. Like a human jungle gym, but underground.”

I nodded, glancing over at him with a tiny smile. He’d relaxed considerably over the course of the evening, and it was nice—and kind of sweet—to see him cocooned in a pile of blankets with a lazy, contented look on his face as he exhaled a stream of sweet smoke.

The room grew a little hazy, but I could still see the TV and I liked the smell of it, so I didn’t mind. We were about four episodes deep into Our Neighbours the Humans now, and the silly plotlines and overexaggerated acting from the cast made me laugh. Greid pointed things out to me sometimes, but we mostly stayed quiet, especially after the food arrived.

After a few more minutes of watching, Greid stubbed out the end of his joint and stretched. “Okay, time for dessert.”

I stared at the two Styrofoam containers sitting side by side on the coffee table with mild horror. “I don’t know if I can eat any more.”

Greid shrugged, leaning forward to grab the plastic fork and spoon that had been delivered with the food. He flipped open the lid of his, revealing an enormous waffle topped with whipped cream, chocolate sauce, crumbled cookies and rainbow sprinkles.

“You can put yours in the fridge for later if you want,” he said, already cutting off a chunk.

I watched avidly as he opened his mouth wide—wide wide, those smile lines splitting open so he could fit the huge spoonful inside. He let out a contented sound as he chewed.

“Okay, it does look good,” I relented. Greid picked up my container and handed it over with a grin.

We went quiet again as we devoured our waffles, and by the time I passed Greid the rest of mine, I felt too tired and full to move. Greid didn’t look at all interested in going anywhere either, tossing his empty container aside and pulling the blanket closer beneath his chin so only his dark, sharp face peeked out from the fabric.

I couldn’t stop smiling as I glanced over at him repeatedly. This was probably a completely typical evening for him, but it was surreal for me. Surreal in the best way. And he just looked so… well, high, but totally content and relaxed, with a full belly and one of his favourite shows on the TV. And someone here to enjoy it with him.

This was a good first night in the real world, I decided, feeling my knee brush against his through our mounds of blankets.

A really good first night.

By the time we finished season one of Our Neighbours the Humans, I was falling asleep despite all the sugar and caffeine I’d consumed. As Greid paused before season two could start, I glanced up at the wall clock and balked at the time—3 a.m. We’d had strict sleeping schedules at the compound, having to be in our rooms by ten and in bed by midnight at the latest, and up the next morning for breakfast at seven.

I’d never stayed up this late in my life, which felt kind of juvenile. I was thirty-five, for fuck’s sake, not a little kid. I should’ve done all this stuff already. Eating junk and bingeing TV and staying up all night.

A flash of anger at myself made me pull the blanket off my lap. “I should probably go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Greid moved slowly, turning off the TV and shifting the mound of blankets covering him back onto the couch.

He scrubbed his face, his ears fluttering as he tried to untangle the strands of long black hair caught up in his little spikes. Not really knowing why, I reached out and carefully picked them out for him. His drowsy yellow eyes met mine for a second before he looked away, and I pulled my hand back.