Until the Stars Fade Away [MxM - SaifahZon] [COMPLETED]

Night 14

THE FOLLOWING afternoon, Saifah found himself in his friend's kitchen; the woman's fingers caressed his scalp in preparation for a much needed haircut. The gentle massage mirrored the melodic cadence of the big band playing in the background, while the sunlight filtered through the window, casting orange-tinted shadows across the ceiling.

"You're tense."

"Shut up." Saifah closed his eyes. But Dara, his ex's girlfriend, was right. Amidst this tranquil atmosphere, the storm kept brewing within his heart.

"So how's it going? Besides that interview?"

She poured water over his hair to rinse away the excess shampoo. Saifah had no doubts that the girl took his mood as a result of the impending job interview, and although she wasn't entirely wrong, it was predominantly a result of his fallout with Zon. A fallout that occupied his thoughts more than he wished to admit.

"You know how it is." He gave a small shrug. "Customers are assholes, management sucks, and even my dear team drives me crazy. A bunch of lazy incompetents."

"Okaaay…And how's your friend? The one you brought to the store?"

A hesitation squeezed his chest, the weight of his emotions lingering in the air. "Ah yeah." His smile turned sour. "We fought."

He didn't plan to open up; not to Dara, not to anyone else. It was pathetic the way he'd behaved, and he felt too ashamed to confess about it even to Day. Yet, within the next half an hour, he told their whole story to someone he wasn't as close to, starting with the hookups, ending with their most recent fight. He even confessed to Dara about the whole aromantic aspect of his identity, something he had thus far shared with Zon, and Zon only.

"So…yeah." He ended up on an awkward note, tugging on his damp hair. They were sitting by the table, without the lights turned on, and Dara stroked her tattooed fingers one after another. He could tell she didn't know what to say.

"Well, that sucks," she muttered at last.

"Tell me about it."

For a moment, they just stared at each other, each in their own headspace. Saifah didn't expect any advice, but he'd much appreciated the comforting looks she was sending towards him. And although he still had no clue what to do about it, he knew better than to harbor hard feelings. Slowly, he moved his eyes onto a fly climbing up the green tiles and sighed. Pouring all those words out had helped him find a note of calmness inside of him.

If only that was enough.

He was about to thank Dara for the non-haircut, and go back home, when the lights flickered above their heads and Mali rolled into the kitchen.

"Ohoho, who do we have here!" She beamed at Saifah's sight.

"Didn't I promise I'll come?"

"Months ago." Mali sat next to her girlfriend, rummaging through her backpack. "But you've got timing, boy. I've just got that Tuatara record you asked me about." She passed him the package, her eyes bouncing between Dara and him. "So, what are we talking about?"

"You've got a lot of vintage chairs." Saifah pointed at the mixed-and-matched set, but the girl didn't buy it.

"And the long face?" she asked.