Conri called out of work the next day. He was thankful Thompson was able to take him home shortly after dinner and offered to cover his shift. The self appointed weight grew larger in Conri’s stomach as he added Thompson’s generous nature into his pile of personal debt. Conri let it weigh him down as he lay in bed under his covers trying to block out the warm orange waves of morning, still grappling with his discovery from the previous night. His eyes strained to watch his fingers flex in front of him while surrounded by the dulled darkness created by his comforter. Was his body truly acting out of instinct? Conri never recalled being actively called towards other magic users other than surface level curiosity. 

His phone illuminated his makeshift sanctuary in artificial blue light as it chimed near his head. Blinking to adjust his vision when staring at his screen. A package was just delivered. 

Conri hadn’t ordered anything, but his guess was that it was from his grandparents as it was common for them to surprise him with oddly timed care packages. This time was a lucky coincidence. He willed himself to crawl out of his bed and threw on some loungewear he could shed out of once he got back to his room. He didn’t bother playing music on his phone as he descended the stairs allowing his jingling keys to fill the air around him. Feeling his feet slow as he neared the last set to the ground floor to find a hunched over figure fiddling with the mailboxes. The warm tawny orange hair poking out through the back of the cap and light blue polo was recognizable almost immediately. The new postal worker he saw previously talking to Mrs. Kast. The cute postal worker. 

“Good Morning!” Their voice was deep, yet soft.

Conri felt his social battery struggle to activate since he didn’t anticipate having to be social today. His face warmed in anxiety as he buffered. 

“Morning,” Conri finally managed while taking the last few steps down. “I was uh, notified of a package. Not sure if you have already put it away yet, sorry.”

The postal worker smiled apologetically. “No apologies needed. Guess I submitted the notice a bit early,” he looked at the neat pile he had by his feet before pulling out a tablet. “What’s the last name?” 

“It could be under Murano.” Conri actually wasn’t sure since he didn’t really pay attention. He previously used a name he had in college before dropping out, Neon. His sheltered grandparents never caught on. 

He watched the man raise an eyebrow as he browsed a list before picking up one of the packages from his pile. Their eyes gave it a once over as he extended to his full height looking down at Conri. 

“I have a Millefiori Murano. Is it safe to assume that's you?” 

Conri forced a smile, though mildly uncomfortable at his grandparents still using that childhood nickname. It didn’t hold any negative feelings or hurt for him to hear, it was a name he enjoyed when he was younger, he’d just grown out of it.

“Its Conri,” extending a hand for his mail. “My grandparents still have a habit of using childhood nicknames. Sorry for the confusion.” 

The man smiled. “Don’t sweat it, it’ll help me next time.” His hand briefly touched a patch on the breast of his shirt that read Landis. “Its nice to formally meet you, Conri. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in passing.” His freehand now outstretched for a handshake. 

With the briefest hesitation, Conri reached out and met Landis’ hand. It swallowed his almost completely, encasing it in a shell of soft body heat. He could feel his cheeks grow hot as his eyes spied matching orange hair running up and down Landis’ forearms, it contrasted handsomely against his pale skin.

“Its probably not my place, but can I ask what's got you so down?” 

Conri blinked back to reality as Landis removed his hand, his own hand still semi outstretched. His internal feelings must have grown noticeable on the outside if his new mailman is asking out of concern. He struggled to bring his gaze back to meet Landis’. 

“Well,” his lungs hiccuped as he tried putting words together. “I just got some not great news the other night. It's a lot to take in, but I am trying to work through it. The initial shock is still lingering I suppose.”

He felt his eyes drift to his exposed hand, no longer surrounded in Landis’, it felt cold as the memory of that web like magic replying in his mind. There was a hint of fear that it could’ve reformed right now during their handshake, its edges sinking into Landis like the sharpened teeth of a mad dog. Could it drain all of Landis arcane affinity, leaving him a husk of a person on the floor of the apartment complex? With three Mississippi counts and nothing, Conri felt his shoulders relax momentarily. 

“That really sounds rough, I’m sorry you’re going through it.” Landis’ head bowed in thought for a moment. “If I could offer, something my father once said, was to never ignore those negative feelings. The best place to start healing would be to acknowledge what they are and how they make you feel. It may seem like you are looking up a mountain or it could just be a really big pile of pebbles. Start small and take what you can handle.”

Listening had made the weight in Conri’s chest even heavier, his breathing was shallow and it became even more difficult to look at Landis. Their intentions were all well and good, but something deeper inside of Conri stung making him feel like he was being lectured. He was becoming uncomfortable, but he didn’t want to run this time. Dr. Bromley had always told him that therapy would be uncomfortable, but it only meant that progress was being made. 

“Your dad must be one insightful guy.” Conri weakly replied, doing his best to keep his casual smile. 

“You could say that he was,” Landis’ smile never wavered. “He learned it from his mother who learned it from her father and so on. Guess it was some sort of tradition we giants have to pass those words onto their children.” 

“I suppose so,” Conri’s chest finally expanded, forcing himself to take a deeper breath. “But I’m no expert in giant traditions and customs. I do appreciate you sharing with me though.” The more the words mulled in his head, the more they seemed to make sense, he’d have to bring it up at his next session with Dr. Bromley. 

“Its my pleasure! I hate seeing folks get so down, so I like to do what I can, even if it's just delivering their mail.”

As Conri willed his gaze to rise, he found it difficult due to the brightness reflecting off Landis. Both were now touched by the comforting light of the morning sun, saturating their features into clearer view. Conri could see the pink in Landis’ cheeks as he smiled down at him, the highlight from his ginger stubble, reflections in the corners of his golden honey eyes and the softest beauty mark on the right corner of his bottom lip. It was the most color Conri had witnessed in a long time: a symphony in light. Conri’s smile became relaxed when their eyes met.

“Then I offer you my most gracious thanks and appreciation for my mail.” He could feel his wit and humor briefly return to his words, giving Landis a small bow while holding his package. 

“Your praise is overwhelming good sir,” Landis tipped his cap, reciprocating the gesture. 

Both shared a laugh. Landis watched the sunlight glint and reflect off Conri’s piercings and glasses as his head bounced. The joy was quickly hushed as Conri remembered they were mere feet away from Mrs. Kast’s front door that sat across from the mailboxes. He brought a hand to his mouth to stifle the noise; though she enjoyed Conri as a friend, she enjoyed her sleep that much more. Landis followed and lowered his head, uttering a giggling apology as he finished. In the moment, it reminded Conri of something he and Mrs. Kast were both curious about. 

“Oh! How is Ruchi doing by the way? Is he on a new route or has he finally taken some vacation time?” 

His question seemed to cause Landis’ customer service demeanor to crack, his smile shrunk and brows furrowed inquisitively. It was the first notable change Conri could see from their interaction. The change made Conri hope that Ruchi wasn’t fired.

“I was hoping someone on this route would be able to tell me,” Landis replied after a pause. “No one at the warehouse has seen or heard from him. The higher ups haven’t been able to contact him either, so they gave me his route to pick up the slack.” 

“That's so unlike him. Ruchi is always so on top of everything.” He glanced toward Mrs. Kast’s door. “Do you mind keeping us posted if you hear anything?” 

The postal worker nodded reassuringly as he had his own concerns over the matter. “Absolutely. He’s my friend too, so we’ll keep each other informed.” 

The two exchanged their verbal promise, sharing their hope for their friend’s safety. Conri’s mind added Landis’ ability to cheer him up to the mental pile of debt he wanted to pay off through his own kind gestures. He already started thinking of ways he could pay back Landis, possibly out of personal bias for finding the giant attractive.     

Without wanting to overthink on the spot while Landis still had a job to do and mail to deliver,  Conri excused himself. Taking his departure back up the flight of stairs with the temporary relief over his anxiety lingering. His body felt much lighter as he ascended, feeling his lungs circulate air easier and overall tension lessening with each step. Taking one last look at the package in his hand, he stopped near the top before rounding the corner. “Landis?” He called. 

“Yes?”

“Are you a fan of coffee?” 

A pause. “Who isn’t?” 

“You should try The Drip. They have a wonderful menu, you should stop by.” 

____________________

Back in his room, Conri sat on his bed while the package sat on his living room table, staring at each other. The mild shock of indirectly telling Landis to see him at work caused his cheeks and ears to erupt in a warm pink hue. Excited, yet guilty butterflies were fluttering in his chest the longer he thought about the interaction. There was something about Landis that was so warm and alluring, but so did Emmett. Despite the circumstances of the break up, the fact he was now single was the same. Emmett’s family made it explicitly clear that they would never see each other again and the ghost of that realization still lingered, plucking at his heartstrings. Conri wished to damn Emmett’s family and damn their conservative customs though he knew it was only out of frustration, doing him no good. 

Taking this as a cue to slow down, he pushed the idea of having a proper date with the mailman in the back of his mind. Rovin was prowling around the city somewhere and the reason was a mystery. The butterflies had dispersed and a familiar nausea replaced them as he tried to dig through repressed memories for any clue to explain the reappearance. It was easier to remember the very beginning before he witnessed the real Rovin: the one whose words burned through emotions like acid, whose temper always seized control, and the one whose hands imprisoned Conri for so long. He brought his hands up, protectively covering his ears, feeling the cool metallic studs and rings he chose to embrace after Emmett saved him from Rovin. He should have wished to damn Rovin instead.

It became dissociating as his mind fought back against Conri's desire to dig deep out of its previously set survival conditions. Pressure built behind his eyes causing his living room table to grow out of focus, the outline of the package blended in with the table while his grip on his ears tightened. As the world around him became muffled, he reached for his phone out of fear of being consumed in silence. He turned on the playlist specifically made to settle himself. None of the songs contained lyrics, but only soft stripped down melodies. The repetitive ease from each song was hypnotic as they sent comforting chills down his spine as if a ghost stroked his back gently. Pain began to subside as his vision recalibrated. Stains of grey followed his gaze making his surroundings look like an unfinished painting. 

Foregoing his grounding technique, he turned up the volume on his phone before stumbling toward the package. Shoulders relaxing as he heard the mild piercing sound of the tape being torn off the cardboard. Inside, nestled in a bed of tissue paper, was a tightly wrapped tray of biscotti next to a full bag of coffee beans with a small handwritten note. *We are thinking of you and always praying for your strength to do great things. Love Nana and Papa.* The smell of the whole beans were strong and a clear indication that they were dark roasted. It was his favorite. 

The thought itself was a welcoming addition to his easing anxiety, so he did what he usually did when presented with coffee beans. He made himself a pot: the sound of the grinder overtook the music, but the bubbling from the coffee machine fell into rhythm with his phone. Once his cup was filled and the steam floated to the ceiling, he unwrapped the biscotti and gave himself two on a plate. One plain with bits of almond and cinnamon and one half dipped in chocolate. The emotions from the morning had suppressed his hunger, but having the moment to feed and caffeinate himself was just what he needed. The color started returning slowly, the grey receding from splotches into flecks.

Landis' words rang through him, forcing a small determined smile to grow on his lips as he took another sip of coffee. Conri rose from his seat and went for his backpack he had discarded next to his bedside table. Thrusting his hand inside and producing a blue book that resembled the one Eli was studying from, the introduction text the academic counselor had lent him from their previous visit. He placed the textbook next to his crumb laden plate as he refreshed his coffee. The playlist continued uninterrupted as he sat down to finally open the text. Just like before, the text started off easy to interpret, but as he advanced from the introduction pages into chapter one, the ink started shifting. Rereading paragraphs was a challenge, but he traversed forward, taking in context clues from the living words. 

His eyes traced each word before they morphed as his mouth moved silently, sounding out each one, hoping that one would show him the way to the key of understanding the basics.