Tooth Fairy:

Let's start tomorrow.

Sun 17:47 pm

-----

Eric found himself staring at Allen's last message from the previous day, as if it were some kind of puzzle or riddle that was very hard to solve. Then, he asked himself, How exactly are we supposed to make our fake relationship more realistic?

If someone were to ask him that same question right now, he wouldn't have a single helpful answer. Well, for starters, he'd never been into any kind of relationship aside from his family and friends. And second, well, Eric wasn't exactly what people would call "romantic."

In other words, he wasn't built for it.

Sure, Eric was a good-looking guy, but he had zero charm, no natural flirtiness, not even a single sparkle of sex appeal that would make a person's heart flutter just by standing next to him. And it wasn't really his fault anyway. His body was wired for something completely different in that regard.

Therefore, he will likely rely on Allen regarding this matter. After all, Allen seemed like a total veteran when it came to dating women. He had both the looks and the body, especially the body. Like...seriously! How did he manage to keep those sculpted muscles, those well-toned arms and chest, even the abs? With all that going for him, it was hard to imagine the guy ever going a single day without someone being interested in him.

But right now, Eric really didn't have the energy to think about any of that, even if he wanted to. He hadn't slept well last night, and even his taste buds were somewhat off. The longer he stared at the message, the more he could feel his brain starting to throb, like he'd woken up with a nasty hangover he was pretty sure he hadn't even earned.

Definitely, it was stress!

Allen tried to squeeze the bridge between his eyes in the hope that it would somehow ease the pounding pain in his skull. If he hadn't been stressed yesterday because of his father and his soon-to-be fiancée, who were both insisting and imposing the idea of marriage, he wouldn't have stayed up late.

He wouldn't now be suffering from a migraine attack.

With that, he wasn't sure if he could meet Allen today when he felt this awful, so he decided to type a message:

Then, after clicking the send icon, Eric leaned back in his office chair for a moment while waiting for a reply. After a few minutes, his phone buzzed, where Allen's name appeared as Tooth Fairy.

Tooth Fairy:

Have you had breakfast yet?

Mon 9:14 am

Tooth Fairy:

Where do you work?

Mon 9:27 am

Eric hesitated the moment he saw Allen's reply, which took ten minutes for him to receive. Should he tell Allen where he works? He didn't know this person well enough to share everything about himself.

So Eric decided to divert the conversation and replied:

Tooth Fairy:

Do you really want to know?

Mon 9:35 am

Tooth Fairy

I just finished feeding and bathing my pet cat, Husk.

Mon 9:37 am

Then Allen suddenly sent a picture.

It was his pet cat, whom he apparently named Husk. It's just an ordinary street cat, fat and fluffy enough to pass as a living throw pillow. Its fur was pure white, and its eyes were mismatched: one was green, and the other was blue. Husk was sprawled across Allen's lap, looking slightly damp, as if Allen had tried (and failed) to dry Husk enough right before snapping the photo.

"Pfft..."

Eric couldn't help but smile when the picture popped up on his phone. Not because he liked cats, no, he didn't, really. But there was something undeniably cute about seeing someone like Allen, who looked more like a bouncer or a bodyguard, doting on a fluffy street cat. It wasn't that Allen actually looked like one, but the image still amused him.

Somehow, the headache he'd been suffering from eased up a little the moment he saw the picture of Allen and his cat, Husk. It was an unexpectedly nice feeling, really, how something so simple like that could make him feel even slightly better.

Tooth Fairy:

Really?

Glad it helped.

By the way, I have something for you.

Just wait until it gets there.

Mon 9:46 am

"Until it gets here? Wait...what? What does he mean by gets here?" Eric said to himself in surprise. He even tried to reply and ask for clarification, but by then Allen had already gone offline.

"Shit!"

But before his brain could completely melt down from overthinking, someone spoke up nearby. His secretary was standing in front of his desk, holding a brown paper bag and a cup of hot tea.

"Uhm, Sir Eric, someone sent this to you through Lalovemove."

"Eh?"

His secretary immediately handed him the brown paper bag. Eric peeked inside and found a bottle of water, a packed breakfast, and a small pack of ibuprofen for his headache. On the back of the paper bag, a note was taped neatly:

Have breakfast first. You need to eat.

—Allen—

Eric had no idea how to react.

First of all, how did Allen even know where he worked? And second, how did this stuff get to him that fast? They'd only been chatting for about an hour.

Eric decided to quickly type out a reply.

Allen came back online a few minutes later and replied to Eric's chat.

Tooth Fairy:

Yes. Is there a problem?

Mon 9:58 am

Tooth Fairy:

Let's just say I have many ways of knowing where you work. Anyway, eat before the food and tea get cold.

Mon 10:01 am

Eric's fingers hovered over his phone's keyboard to reply. But then, he stopped typing the moment he realized how strangely intimate this was starting to feel. First of all, he had never received this kind of treatment from anyone except his family's confidants or people like Emil, who had practically treated him like a prince since childhood.

But...this?

This was different.

He didn't know how to respond to such treatment. They'd barely known each other for a day, and yet here he was, sending breakfast, medicine, and tea like it was a normal thing to do to someone even if that person's a total stranger.

And Eric had no idea what to do with that.

But before he could untangle that knot of confusion in his chest, he realized he'd already typed out a reply.

"I don't know how I'm going to respond to this, but...thank you?" For some reason, Eric isn't sure why his response came out sounding like a question instead of showing gratitude.

Then a few minutes later, Allen responded.

"I'm your boyfriend, remember? Even if this is just a fake relationship, consider this part of the practice. We need to make it feel believable, right?"

Eric just stared at the message. He's right. What Allen said was true. Maybe it's part of the practice to make their act more convincing to people. But somehow, for Eric, it feels like it was some kind of puzzle or riddle that was very hard for him to solve.

Except this time, there was something in Allen's words and actions that didn't feel fake at all.