He regretted it soon after. He had no idea where the nearest grocery store was, which resulted in at least 20 minutes of aimless wandering. He was about to admit defeat and return to the apartment, when his eyes landed on a lone figure down the mostly empty road. He stopped; his feet suddenly rooted to the spot.

Dark somewhat curly hair, a hoody that was a bit too big on him, tall… and above all familiar. Painfully so. He only saw him from the back, but even that was enough for his brain to go ‘I know this person’. It was impossible not to tightly grab on to the fleeting feeling of familiarly in this post memory-loss world, where everything seemed foreign and strange, and he only hesitated for a moment before forcing his feet to move. He sprinted forward, ignoring the aching in his muscles and the dull pounding in his head. He wasn’t supposed to do anything physical so soon after being discharged, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He reached for the man’s hand before realizing what he was doing and how improper it was, his heart hammering in his chest. Once his fingers loosely wrapped around the stranger’s wrist, he folded in half, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t run far or particularly fast, but he was already out of breath, his muscles trembling with effort. It felt like he'd run a marathon and not merely a short distance. He’d never been so out of shape in his life (not the part of it he could remember at least), and it was clear hitting the gym was an inevitable part of his future.

The man stopped, half turning his head, his only visible eye boring straight into him. August couldn’t tell its color in the flimsy streetlight, but it looked like a bottomless pit of darkness. His gaze felt dangerous, like a look of a predator before a hunt, and August felt a shiver running down his spine. It snapped him out of whatever daze he was in, and he let go of the stranger’s wrist as if he’d been burned, taking a cautionary step back.

The stranger fully turned to him now, his eyes sharp and the rest of his face impassive. Familiar. Everything about him screamed familiar, from his high cheekbones to the slightly uneven bridge of his nose and the beauty mark on his jaw. “Uh.” started August, suddenly feeling awkward. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “Do I…” He swallowed. “Do I know you?”

The man's gaze turned calculating and he took a slow, thorough look at him, his eyes traveling from his head to his feet and back again. “I’ve heard you lost your memory.” he said, his lips twitching up ever so slightly.

“So we do know each other?” asked August, even though the answer was painfully obvious at this point.

“You could say so."

“Uh…” he swallowed, feeling increasingly uncomfortable under the weight of the man's gaze. He wasn’t usually this unsure of himself, but something about the man made him feel like he was being quietly mocked. Was it the slight curl of his lips? The look in his eyes? Was he imagining it or was it real? “What’s your name?”

“Lucian.” Familiar. The name felt familiar too. August nodded, glancing at his feet before looking up again. “Um…” he started, unsure how to continue. Should he ask how they knew each other? What their relationship was? Either of those would be a decent choice, but what came out of his mouth was: “Do you know where the nearest grocery store is?”

Lucian paused, slightly tilting his head. “Sure.” he said after a few moments of silence. “This way.” He gestured for him to follow, and August reluctantly fell into step with him. Something about the situation instilled him with an odd sense of déjà vu, and he shook his head to get rid of it.