Berries and Greed

As I looked at him, I suddenly thought of Greid. My chest tightened, and my stomach went all warm and fluttery. With Greid, I felt in control. Not like I could control him, but he was always so generous with me, letting me decide what we had for dinner and what we watched and giving me free rein of his house—minus that mysterious closet I had still somehow managed not to peek into.

He was giving me little hints of control over my own life. Giving me a safe space to navigate all the new things I was experiencing, without ever making me feel stupid or small for being so clueless about things that were second-nature to him. Like how to use a computer or a phone, which he’d also taught me so I could call my aunt’s office number and let her know I was doing okay.

Greid was… Greid was amazing. And as I stood looking at Pidni, I realised with perfect clarity that if I was going to flirt with anyone—demiurgus or human—it was not going to be with this guy.

“Yep, recently moved here,” I said, my tone a touch cooler than normal. Pidni seemed to pick up on it, because he nodded and ducked his head as he put my order through without another word.

After handing him the cash, I moved to the side to wait for our drinks. I took my phone out of my coat pocket and smiled as I pulled up my conversation with Greid.

ETA five minutes, I sent him, even though he was probably still asleep. But after just a few seconds, three dots appeared.

Hurry im dying, he sent back.

I snorted, slipping my phone back into my pocket as Pidni set our drinks down on the counter.

“Never seen a human using one of those,” he remarked with a wry smile, nodding at the big demiurgus-made phone in my pocket, apparently unconcerned by my lack of interest in him. He probably flirted with everyone who came in here, so I shrugged it off and smiled back.

“I prefer it,” I said, even though I’d never used a human-made phone. “Thanks for the drinks. See you tomorrow, Pidni.”

“Bye, Beryl.”

I took a sip of my plain black coffee as I left Deep Brew and headed for home. I’d tried different drinks on each visit before settling on this. Maybe it was a boring choice, but I liked how strong and bitter it was. Greid’s drink of choice was an almond milk latte with two extra shots of espresso, but it was still too milky for me.

He was up when I got home, shuffling into the kitchen in his blanket tent with a grumpy look on his tired face. But his eyes lit up at the sight of me, before becoming even more eager as they dropped to the drinks in my hands.

“Thanks.” His voice was still croaky from sleep as he took the coffee I held out and greedily gulped it. As I shrugged off my coat and hung it up, he asked, “What’re you doing today?”

I sighed, reaching down to pull off my boots. “Kind of don’t feel like getting annoyed at job listings today.”

He grimaced, but said, “You’ll find something soon, Beryl. But there’s no rush—”

“I know,” I said, cutting off his now-familiar reassurances. “But I think… I think I want to go out for a little while today. I’ve already made a new comfort zone here,” I added with a rueful smile. “So I need to take a step out of it.”

He nodded. “Do you want me to come with you?”

I grinned, but shook my head. “You’re my comfort zone, Greid, and the point is to get out of it a little. I can’t make you give up a day of work every time I want to leave the house. And that would be weird anyway.”

Even though his ears had twitched with pleasure when I called him my comfort zone, I worried that I might have upset him or made him feel rejected, but he simply gave me a tiny smile and a nod.

“I get it.” His long fingers fidgeted around his coffee cup. “You’ll be fine, Beryl. You don’t need to talk to anyone if you don’t want. But maybe… maybe stick to the busy streets?” he added worriedly. “Don’t go wandering down alleys or anything. Some parts of the city are kinda rough, even around here.”

“I won’t. And I’m not going yet.” I picked up my coffee. “I want to have breakfast with you first.”

“Okay.” He turned for the kitchen. “What do you feel like?”

“I’ll make us some eggs.”

I’d started teaching myself how to cook after Greid showed me how to look up recipe websites on my phone. So far, I’d mastered eggs, but my one attempt at making breakfast muffins had been a disaster. Greid had choked down one of the sad, dense little discs—that looked nothing like the fluffy-topped muffins in the pictures—and told me in a strained voice that it was delicious. When I’d bitten into one, I’d had to spit it back out.

“Scrambled?” Greid asked hopefully, already nibbling on a slice of leftover pizza from last night even though I was about to make him breakfast. I knew he’d eat it though, so I didn’t care. Greid’s stomach was a bottomless pit.

“Sure.” I pulled out a frying pan. “You go wait in the living room. I’ll bring it out.”

I always said it because I knew he was sensitive to the hum of the appliances in here, and he always refused, just like he did now.