Three
Aris
Elio didn't expect a reply to his note, honestly. He taped it to his neighbors door when he woke up, and then immediately forgot about it. He went about his business, spent another 9-and-a-half hours pretending to be happy while being yelled at at work, and then drove home whilst regretting his existence. Which is why he was surprised to find a similar-colored sticky note attached to his door upon returning home.
Elio's first thought was why his masculine neighbor had a stack of hot-pink sticky notes handy. His second thought was where his masculine neighbor got his glitter gel pens from, because, based off of the note, they were great quality. Elio grabbed the sticky note and unlocked his door before sticking it in the notebook on his nightstand, where he kept sticky notes he wanted to remember and cute stickers.
The curly-haired man quickly changed out of his work clothes while in his bedroom, and then moved back out to his living room to watch some TV and call his mamá; it was Monday and that was when they had their weekly chat. Elio had managed to get it down to once a week, which was much better than the daily call his mamá had wanted to schedule. Living in Colorado, far from his family and hometown in Minnesota, had made Elio's mama very protective. Just in time, the phone rang.
"Hey, Mom," the man said distractedly while browsing movies on his TV.
A shocked sound came from the phone. "Is that how you greet your mamá? The woman who carried you for 9 months and spent 16 hours giving birth to you?" Elio's mamá said in Spanish.
He groaned. "Hola, Mamá. Do you have to bring that up every time?"
"If it works, yes," his mamá replied smugly. "Now tell me how my favorite son is doing?"
"I'm your only son, Mamá," the man replied, also in Spanish.
"Hey, Rosalie is much closer to a son than a daughter." the woman reasoned. "She's the one that plays soccer with your Papá and chops the wood, you know."
Elio gasped sarcastically. "Rude. Who do you think painted the living room?"
"Whatever. That wasn't what I wanted to talk about anyways," his mamá replied in Spanish. "How are you doing? Any girlfriends yet?"
"No since the last time we talked, Mamá," Elio grumbled. Girlfriends were a staple of their conversations, and one that Elio wanted removed immediately considering his mamá didn't know that he would never have a girlfriend.
His mamá sighed. "A mother can hope. I just want you to be happy, hijo."
"I know, mamá. But I'm not looking for anything right now." Wrong. He was absolutely looking, just not at girls.
After another 20 minutes of dodging his mother's questions and trying to provide answers that would satisfy her without making her keep talking, Elio was set free.
He decided on watching a nostalgic movie from his childhood while he knitted. Mind you, Elio had only knitted one thing in his life — a blanket three years ago — but he had confidence that he could remember his non-existent skills easily. Brain moving 100 miles an hour, Elio went online seeking tutorials on how to knit a cardigan. It was summer, but by the time he finished it would be cardigan season. After spending way too long finding his old knitting stuff, Elio finally got settled in front of his TV.
He had left the movie playing, shit. The end credits were showing up. And now he was hungry. But it was nearing 2 AM. Elio groaned, threw his head back against the coach, and regretted his existence.
Then his phone rang. God, he couldn't catch a break.
The dark-haired man grabbed his phone and answered without checking who it was. "Yes?"
"Who died?" spoke the concerned voice of Elio's older sister, Rosalie.
"What? No one died. Wait, did someone die?" he responded, entirely confused.
"That's what I'm asking you! Mamá texted me at 10 o'clock saying that you weren't okay and that you'd probably tell me more than you'd tell her," Rosalie continued. "I just saw it now because I just got off of work, but her text made it seem like you were sobbing on the phone."
Elio groaned. Of course his mamá had said that. She had let him hang up far too easily. "She's concerned because I told her I don't want a girlfriend right now," he explained.
Rosalie snorted. "Now, or ever?"
Elio couldn't help but laugh. "Ever, but she doesn't know that," his voice grew soft. "You know how she is with both of us living away from home."
"Yes, I know. God, that woman needs a dog or something. A hobby," his sister replied. She chuckled at the end of her statement, and Elio couldn't deny that it was a nice sound — familiar. With him living so far away, and Rosalie living even further in Maine with her husband, they didn't see each other much.
"Yes she does," Elio glanced at the knitting supplies he had sprawled out across the couch. "Maybe she'd like knitting? I know she isn't into pets because of the mess."
He could hear Rosalie's sigh through the phone. "Yes, but I feel like she could really bond with a dog. It's a shame. She'd probably say she's not old enough to enjoy knitting, too."
Elio hummed his agreement. "Stubborn woman, she is."
"Just look at her kids," his sister commented, forcing a laugh out of Elio. He continued to talk to his sister until she had to go inside and get ready for bed. Elio decided to do the same, leaving the mess of yarn and knitting needles for Future Elio to deal with.
He stripped to his boxers and threw on an oversized gray T-shirt, grabbed a snack from the kitchen, and then flopped face forward onto his mattress. God, he was so tired. Elio turned his head to the side so that he could breathe, and caught a glimpse of the pink sticky note on the front of his notebook.
He'd forgotten about that. With newfound energy, Elio jumped up and pulled the notebook toward himself. Stuck to the cover was a small pink note with the words, written in neat cursive:
You're welcome.
– Aris
Elio was giddy with excitement. Aris. It suited the man perfectly. Now that Elio knew his name, he couldn't imagine him being named anything else. Aris. God, even his name was hot. The curly-haired man got distracted saying Aris' name for a few minutes, before he remembered that he was meant to be sleeping.
Elio went to bed with a smile that night; and with the resolution to form a reply to Aris' note in the morning.
𑁋⟡♡⟡𑁋
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