Loud creaking steps near Erik finally brought his shut eyes to a light flutter. Turning onto  his back, the cold leather of the couch stuck to his uncovered skin. Orange sunlight peeked through the window, illuminating the blanket that had fallen to the floor.

A blanket that Erik hadn’t put on himself last night.

“Morning.” Erik croaked, watching Talvi as they rustled through the cabinets to retrieve a blanched orange bowl. They had changed out of their pajamas, now donning jeans and an oversized scarlet sweater.

Talvi turned on the heel of their foot to look at him. Pressing their back against the kitchen counter Talvi poured cereal into the bowl, the little cereal pebbles clinked against the ceramic as they filled it. With still a morning dampened velvety voice, Talvi nodded to him, “Morning, do you want cereal?”

The memory of last night played in Erik’s mind as vividly as ever. Like he could conjure the being to stand in front of him just by reminiscing. The water soaked feathers, giant stature and protruding jaw. Modarr had been there, watching him as the rain crashed through the sky.

“Nah, I’m good right now.” He rose from the couch and stretched his arms above his head, not looking out the window as he did. He folded the blanket neatly before placing it on the couch.

Moving into the kitchen, Erik searched for a small cup by rifling through the cabinets. “It’s here.” Talvi spoke as they opened the cabinet to the left of the fridge.

“Thanks.” Nodding, they sat at the table, shoving cereal down with one foot on the floor and the other resting on the chair opposite to them.

Filling his cup with water, Erik heard Talvi cough beckoningly. “So…you slept on the couch last night? Can I ask, why?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, like a bobber in the water, “I think I just needed time to process…all this.” He bit at the pink of his lips as he spoke, completely unsure of how to describe what he was feeling.

“Look, I know you don’t remember…well basically everything, but this is your house Erik. Don’t tiptoe in it on account of me. Sleep in your bed, make a mess, I don’t care.”

Hesitating for a moment before, Erik pulled out a chair diagonally from Talvi, only sitting to slurp on his cold water. “You’re not going to work?”

He saw the shadow of a grin on their face as he drank. Talvi shoved down another spoonful, “Took the day off.”

“Oh!” Talvi sat up straight as something popped into their head, “Where’s your phone? It was on the counter yesterday. I want to add the doctor’s contact information to it.” Dr. Mah, Erik remembered.

“My phone? That’s a great question because I have no idea.”

Smiling lightly, Talvi slipped their phone out of their back pocket, “I’ll call it.”

“Oh! I hear it!”

Pushing the couch cushions to the side, Erik felt around blindly before feeling the solid frame of his phone, “Found it!...Kunym?”

“Yeah?” Talvi turned.

“No, sorry, my phone…your contact says Kunym instead of Talvi.” He looked back down at the phone for what seemed like the thirtieth time in the last five seconds. Each time reading missed calls from Kunym, once again.

Unfazed by his stunted speech, Talvi began to clear up their dishes. He could hear them stacking the bowls and glasses into the tiny dishwasher, “It's your nickname for me. I think it means sun in Kazakh or something like that.”

“Yeah…yeah, no wait I knew this. I recognized this word. I know Kazakh…?”

“Erik. You’re Kazakhstani.” Talvi chuckled, re-entering the living room.

“I am?”

< >

The knock on the door was more akin to a song than a knock. Two slow knocks then three fast rumbled at the door. “That’s probably him.” Talvi spoke from the couch.

Erik cracked open the door, “Hey man.”

Oumar stood across from his, a plastic bag in one hand and his wicker basket in the other. “Hi,” He lifted the white plastic bag, “I brought dinner.” He was wearing a long sleeve, tight skin orange shirt and dark blue jeans.

“What is it?” Talvi bellowed from the couch.

Oumar slipped off his shoes before making it further into the apartment, “Indian food.”

“God I love you.” They yelled pushing themself up from the couch and running towards the table. “I haven’t had Indian food in forever.”

“You’re welcome. Gosh, do you not eat? There’s gonna be none left for Erik or I.”

“Then eat quick.” Talvi said, grabbing a spoonful of butter chicken, “Should we start?”

Erik gulped down his worry and took a seat at the table, “I guess now is a good time as any. I want to remember.” Oumar nodded and added himself next to him.

“Actually, before we start I’m gonna get a notebook so I can actually remember this stuff.”

“How’s the wound on your head feeling?”

“Good,” Erik chuckled, “I actually forgot about it until now.” Before he lost the confidence to ask, Erik spoke, “The first thing I want to learn about is my parents, I’m guessing by the lack of phone calls that they’re not in my life.”

Talvi and Oumar exchanged glances, but it was Talvi that spoke lightly, “You’re right, they’re not in your life. Do you remember when I said that you dropped out of college?”

“Yes. Did they have something to do with it?”

Talvi rubbed their lips together before nodding, “They died in a car crash when you were 21, so you never finished college.”

“Oh.” All the other questions died on his tongue. He’d thought about his parents perhaps being distant or maybe even being really busy but he’d never really entertained the thought of death.

His gaze lingered on the steaming chicken on his plate. “Erik, are you okay?” Talvi’s head was slightly tilted, eyebrows raised as they waited for an answer.

“Yeah, I’m good I-” He began only to be interrupted as scarlet blood dripped down his lip. Craning his neck forward, Erik tried to stop the bleeding by holding his palm beneath his nostril.

Rushing to the bathroom, Erik let droplets splatter into the porcelain sink as he wrapped toilet paper on his hand. Lightly smeared blood tinted the skin below his nostril, Erik gazed at himself in the mirror as he tried to fix the bleeding.

A few droplets had made their way onto his grey shirt, mixing with the stain from yesterday. “I’m gonna change my shirt!” He bellowed before going into the bedroom. The blinds were still drawn tightly.

Talvi hadn’t made the bed which made Erik chuckle as he opened the drawers and searched for a new t-shirt. Donning a blue shirt with the logo for the New  York Tribune on it, Erik rejoined everyone else, “Sorry about that.”

“No worries.”

Instead of continuing with more questions, the three of them decided to eat their food and talk about everything else under the sun. Oumar talked about a patient who stepped on his foot four times during a consult. Soon enough the sun was darkening in the sky, illuminating the city in orange.

Oumar slipped on his shoes as Talvi and Erik stood near the door, “Thanks for coming.”

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Erik nodded gratefully as Oumar made his way out of the apartment.

Pulling out Erik scribbled another couple words down into his notebook as Oumar disappeared into the grimy hallway. Talvi leaned over, “What are you writing down?”

“I’m writing about Oumar under my - people in my life - list.”

Intrigued, Talvi took a step closer, Erik could feel their presence at his back, “So what did you write down for him?”

“That he’s caring. That he’s my friend.”

“I know he thinks the same about you.” Talvi patted him on the shoulder before stopping mid-pat and leaning back over him, “What did you write down for me?”

“Don’t be nosy!” Erik pressed the notebook into his chest hiding it from their sight, his tone was cheeky, “It’s my notebook not yours.”

Talvi raised their hands in surrender, “Okay, okay, but you’ll have to tell me one day if the only things you’ve written down are insults.”

Closing the notebook, Erik’s smirk widened, “You know that means I have to lie then right? Cause the entire page is just insults.”

Rolling their eyes, Talvi brushed him off with a smirk lifting the corners of their lips, “Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not kidding,” he said, smile lines creasing their way around his lips, “I wrote that you’re smelly and stinky and that your hair is weird.”

Talvi smiled so wide Erik could see their gums. “My hair is not weird! You’re such a liar.” They shook their head as they walked away, further into the orange hue of the apartment.

“...Maybe.”