The bar, the music, the people... everything was just so, so loud.
Kyran didn't want to be here, except... no. No. He couldn't let himself go back to thinking that way. He'd promised himself that he wouldn't give up. That this summer, he was going to make changes. He was going to step outside of his shell and make a connection, after one too many conversations with colleagues and members of his family that had fixated to an embarrassing degree on how solitary he seemed, and how, according to them, that must have meant he had little to be happy about. Of course, the musk deer had at first tried to tell them that he was perfectly content. His life wasn't perfect, and goodness only knew he dealt with a lot of anxiety and added complexities given some of the stuff going on in his brain. But no matter how he tried to word it, he could never quite find the right combination of phrases to make anyone believe that he was happy with his life, while also admitting that he had reached his late twenties without any dating experience whatsoever, despite being very much interested in at least the idea of a romantic relationship with the right person.
Thus, after years, truly years of being metaphorically poked and prodded by the people he knew, Kyran had been worn down, and half convinced that maybe he really wasn't doing enough. Maybe he was resting on his laurels by trying to live a quiet, relaxed life free from so many of the things that had made parts of his childhood and teenage years a living hell of enforced social obligations and engagements with the overall social hierarchy of society that with all their unspoken, supposedly easily intuited but non-codified rules, had always remained something of an enigma to the deer. So, starting last month once the weather had gotten warm enough, Kyran had embarked upon a plan he'd spent more or less the entirety of the spring working on. A list of activities, a totally altered schedule for how he lived his life beyond work and slumber, which was all devoted to doing the things others had told him he should be doing. `Getting out there', `meeting new people', exposing himself to the kinds of places and situations where it was possible to `hook up' with someone he hadn't even met yet.
And after a month of such activities, a month of putting aside almost all his normal, house-bound hobbies like reading and video games, and instead filling as much of that free time as he could with events and visits to places that were filled with other sociable, outgoing people, Kyran had ended up here on this particular night. The biggest, most bustling event of all those he'd attended so far, at an outdoor bar area set up just for the summer a short walk away from the city's beach, and one which, after just ten or fifteen minutes spent there... was without a doubt Kyran's least favorite of all the awful, stressful, utterly unenjoyable activities of the entire past month.
Fighting not to place his hands over his ears and clamp them down to block out just a little of the relentless noise assaulting his battered, overstimulated senses, the musk deer tried to focus. He tried to take his mind off the overlapping cacophony of the music and the voices and the rattling of cocktail shakers and the honking of car horns nearby and the squawking of seabirds overhead as they hovered in search of dropped food, by instead turning his attention to his primary goal for places like this. He wasn't just there to soak in the atmosphere after all, he was meant to be meeting
people. Seeking connections, whether they came in the form of friendships or potential romances, or, though he personally couldn't imagine this latter option whatsoever, even just casual, spontaneous one-time flings. Those words alone, `casual' and `spontaneous', made the routine and preparation loving deer want to wince and curl up into a ball in the corner of his bedroom back home. But every time he considered surrendering and just returning home, he thought of having to sit through yet another conversation with his parents or his younger sister or his work colleagues about how they were worried about him being lonely, about him being too quiet and too solitary, and the anxiety and guilt of having to deal with those expectations and concerns, however unwanted, forced him into staying.
``H-Hello!?''
Suddenly, Kyran heard himself speak. It was so awkward and abrupt. He had been sitting at the bar for a good ten minutes now, nursing a can of soda while everyone around him was holding pints of beer or frosty glasses filled with some sort of cocktail or another. And for most of that time, sitting and chatting with a friend, a woman had been sitting next to him. A woman who was currently alone, her friend having wandered off perhaps to the bathroom, a minute or so prior. Thus the vixen sitting next to him was unoccupied, and as she idly stared down at her phone while her free hand tapped at the edge of her glass in time with the thumping bassline of the music echoing around them, she glanced up slightly, only to immediately look shocked as she saw the face of the figure sitting beside her.
``Hello! I'm... um - ! M-my name is Kyran! Hi!''
Trying not to recoil at her initial surprise, having lived much of his life getting that same reaction due to the long, almost vampire-like fangs that protruded down from his upper jaw, the musk deer forced down his self-consciousness and persisted with his plan. All he had to do was introduce himself, and then -
The woman stood up, turning away from him as she did so, and walked away without so much as a word.
Kyran's heart sank. It was fine, she was totally welcome to do that. He couldn't, and didn't want to blame her for not wanting to get into a conversation with a stranger, the deer knew that same feeling all too well after all even if he didn't have nearly the confidence required to just blank someone and walk away, usually too confined by social obligation to escape no matter how uncomfortable he was. Besides, if it was bad for him as someone who was, to rather over-simplify his neurodivergences, socially awkward, he could only imagine the struggle that a pretty cisgender lady... or really any lady, would face in trying to avoid unwanted interactions on a daily basis. So, of course he wasn't going to be upset at the vixen for just totally shutting him down like that as he greeted her. But still, even though he absolutely understood and accepted her response, it still hurt, and it was only going to make his next attempt even harder.
``AY! Anyone sitting here, my dude?''
A brightly beaming squirrel in a vibrant Hawaiian shirt and shorts called out over the ear-splittingly loud music as, before Kyran could even answer, they scooted into the seat the vixen had just vacated. The squirrel was pretty, and neither by their choice of attire nor any other immediately visible physical characteristic could Kyran accurately pin down their gender. They were friendly though, smiling at him even as he awkwardly looked at them, still not having answered their initial question.
``You good?''
They asked with a playfully raised eyebrow, and Kyran answered, only for his words to be swallowed up by the music.
``What!? Say that again!''
The squirrel urged. Kyran whimpered under his breath, inhaled deeply, and though he couldn't bring himself to fully yell, he felt his throat straining as he forced out the words as loudly as he dared.
``Y-you can, it's fine! To sit... on the chair, there.''
And after he'd said that, his tongue tangled up on his own words, that was when he saw the squirrel's expression change from warm and friendly to amused, as the musk deer before them went from a potential new conversation partner that evening to a weird little anecdote they'd undoubtedly tell other people about for the rest of the night, if not longer.
``Uh...huh... well, hope you're having a good night! Hey, can I get a strawberry daiquiri please? Ooooh, and I love your bracelet there. Where did you get it?''
With seamless social grace, the squirrel called out to Kyran one more time, before turning their attention away from him and to a passing bartender, smoothly and simply not just getting their attention in order to get served, but immediately guiding the two of them into conversation, and thus freeing themselves up from any obligation to continue interacting with the awkward figure sitting beside them.
Kyran didn't give up though, even as a gnawing pit of doubt and dread opened up in his stomach warning him that tonight was going to be as bad as many of the other nights he'd endured that summer. Nights that had left him ready to abandon his plans entirely until a night's restless sleep had let the worst of his panic and frustration pass, to the point where guilt and obligation could force him back on track once more. Thus, once the squirrel was gone, he tried again. And again. And again.
A few times, he actually made it through the introductions, but the conversations always fizzled out after it became abundantly clear that Kyran had very little to say, hoping for the person on the other side of the conversation to take some initiative after he'd broken the ice, only to realize that wasn't going to happen simply because they had no interest in striking up conversation with someone who seemed as though they'd started talking to them with seemingly no purpose, no real actual interest in them at all. The important thing was though, or at least that was what the musk deer kept trying to convince himself was the case, he didn't give up. He didn't stop trying. He didn't listen to the voice inside his head and his heart screaming and begging for him to give it up and just go home and quietly enjoy a nice book for the rest of the evening. He outright ignored the internal pleading for himself to wake up the following morning, restart his subscription to his favorite MMO, and just lose an entire day to grinding duties and dailies while listening to podcasts. He just stayed there as his ears pounded harder and harder, as his head span, as he flinched or shuddered each time someone unexpectedly yelled in a tone that seemed less than jovial nearby, each time a glass broke, each time a new song began to play seemingly ever louder and louder, while every so often he forced himself to strain his voice yelling over all that chaos just to talk to a person out of obligation, not at all surprised when they failed to engage with him in return and too paralyzed, overwhelmed, by everything going on around him to persist for more than a sentence or two even when someone did seem willing to respond - whether out of a feeling of pity, their own obligation or whatever other reason they had to waste their time in such a way.
Finally though, at around ten thirty PM, more than two hours after arriving at the bar, Kyran couldn't take it anymore. After a group of drunk college students began to crowd around him, being friendly in the same way his teachers insisted the bullies he'd faced in middle school had been friendly as they urged him to speak in a stereotypical Dracula voice and say things like `I vant to suck your blooooooooood!' while they recorded him on their phones, he pulled himself away from them. He pushed through the thronging crowds, blinking away the tears welling up in his eyes as he clenched his hands into tight, impotently frustrated fists, and he ambled swiftly, stiffly out of the bar and off into the midsummer night scene, not even really thinking about where he was going beyond trying to end up somewhere as quiet as possible, as different and removed from everything he had just experienced as he could possibly find.
Twenty minutes later, no longer crying, just sitting with a blank, empty expression on the low concrete seawall that separated the city's edge from the golden sands of the beach itself, Kyran silently tried to wrestle with justifications for giving up his plans. He begged himself to figure out something he could say to the people in his life to make them realize that this wasn't what he wanted. That this wasn't going to make him happy; quite the opposite in fact. But if he couldn't figure out a way to actually make them believe him, their questions, their well-meaning but misguided concerns would just continue, and then he'd be made just as miserable by their judgement and expectation. He was trapped. He was helpless. He was fucked, no matter how he acted, no matter what he did, no matter how badly he just wanted to live a quiet, predictable life.
The musk deer flinched slightly as someone moved past him on the path behind the sea wall, a jogger by the rhythm of their paws patting against the asphalt path and the slight heaviness of their breathing. Even here, pleasantly more quiet as it was, he still had to deal with too many people. He wanted to go home. No, he wanted to already be home, having never left in the first place.
But before he could act to make that wish a reality, before he could rise from his position and begin to make his way back to the peace and quiet and comfort of his own home, he heard a voice.
``Um... excuse me, hon. Tell me to buzz off and stop sticking my nose in if I'm totally off base here, but... are you okay?''
Kyran's brow furrowed in confusion as he looked around, only to find... a woman, a woman maybe ten, fifteen, perhaps even twenty years older than himself; he wasn't good at judging things like that. She was soft around the middle - in fact, she was kinda soft all over with ample thighs and what seemed like large breasts contained within some sort of sports bra with a light vest top draped over it and the rest of her torso, and a pair of Lycra shorts wrapped around the upper parts of her legs. He was correct in his earlier assumption that she was a jogger. In fact... looking from left to right and realizing there was no-one else nearby on the path, she was the jogger who had run by just a brief while ago. She hadn't stopped to look at him then, she had just passed quickly by, yet somehow, for some bizarre reason, she had noticed him. Not only that, she had picked up on his emotional turmoil, too.
But none of that mattered.
Kyran copy/pasted the kind of smile he was so, so experienced at putting on in public, no matter how bad he truly felt underneath. The sort of acting he could only do around people he didn't know, total strangers for the most part, to save them the trouble of having to actually pretend to care about any problems he had and to ensure their interactions ended as rapidly as possible for both their sakes.
``Oh, thanks, but I'm fine.''
He murmured. But, after that, something happened that didn't normally occur in situations like this.
The woman didn't take the out.
She didn't accept his generous offer of making her look like a kind and caring person while actually not having to put in any work at all. Instead the woman, a plump golden retriever, folded her arms under her chest and shook her head.
``No, sweetie. I don't think you are. I know I'm definitely overstepping here, and I know I literally just said you can tell me to go away if I'm butting in. But... the way you were sitting there just now?
I'm sorry, but it made me worry. You looked so defeated and... and like you just wanted to fade away. Like you wanted the whole world to forget you exist.''
Kyran's eyes widened before he could catch himself. Had anyone ever said that to him before? Had anyone ever recognized that fact, or at the very least, acknowledged it even if they had?
His family pretended nothing was wrong, like the autism diagnosis he'd received as a young kid had been fixed by the quack doctor they'd taken him to, who insisted a change of diet and a homeopathic `cure' to neutralize the vaccines he'd been given as an infant had been the reason he'd begun to speak and engage with the world more, rather than him just developing those particular skills a year or so late, and even then rather more slowly than many of his non-neurodivergent peers. His colleagues meanwhile, for the most part, all knew and totally accepted the way he was, but failed to understand that the way his brain worked was anything more than what they'd seen in movies and TV shows. A collection of quirks that made him naturally excel in some areas and cope poorly in others, but poor in ways they were certain they could help him with, help him fix, if they just gave him enough thoughtlessly enthusiastic encouragement.
Sure, he knew folks online who understood the way he was, either because they actually seemed to get it due to actually listening and understanding, or more frequently because they had similar diagnoses and experiences of their own. But in the real world, Kyran was so, so totally unaccustomed to having anyone talk to him, someone try to empathize and understand him, and actually get anywhere remotely close to what he really was actually feeling.
But still, just because this lady had actually connected with some genuine feeling of discontent within Kyran, his desire to withdraw from the world even more than he normally did exceptionally high after the events of that evening thus far, it didn't mean he was going to actually tell her anything. After all, it would just lead to more trouble for her if he did.
``N-no, I'm just... tired. That's all. Thank you, though.''
He smiled, and waited for the retriever to shrug, or nod, or smile in gratitude for him letting her off the hook, and turn away.
To the musk deer's confusion though, that wasn't what he saw. Instead, he saw the older woman moving towards him. Scrambling up onto the low sea wall, only a couple of feet high from the street-side, with several more feet down on the beach side to the sand below, and lowering herself down with a soft grunt as she bent her clearly stiff, aching legs, and sat facing the beach right next to Kyran, her footpaws dangling down towards the beach just like the deer's own hooves.
She didn't call him out for lying to her. Actually, she didn't say anything at all. Not for a long time. She just sat there next to him, quietly, peacefully looking out at the endless pitch blackness of the night sky, encompassing the waves gently approaching and receding towards the ocean, and occasionally glancing over, not surreptitiously or nervously - nor trying to hide the fact she was doing so - at the musk deer himself.
Kyran could have left at any point. He could have stood up and started walking away and there was nothing that woman, that total stranger, could have done about it. For whatever reason though, be it
a totally new sense of obligation even to this entirely unknown figure, or maybe even some vain hope that if he didn't reject her out of hand she might actually be able to offer him the kind of comfort, the kind of companionship he had always longed for but never dared to expect, the musk deer didn't leave. Nor did he suggest that the dog do so. Not even after the golden retriever silently made it clear that she wasn't leaving; squirming and wriggling her rear comfortably in the spot right next to the surprised young man. Ten silent minutes passed. Then twenty. Almost an entire half an hour was spent in silence, which only came to an end when the dog grimaced slightly, giggled, and looked over at the deer sitting next to her.
``I really do want to keep sitting here with you, for as long as you need. But... this wall is super uncomfortable. I know this is a ridiculous thing for me to ask since you didn't say anything about wanting me to be here in the first place, but... would you mind if we stood up, and maybe took a little walk instead?''
Kyran's eyes widened once again, and as much at the silliness of the situation as anything else, he actually chuckled softly, and smiled as he nodded to the golden retriever.
``Um... s-sure.'' So, they walked.
Along the beach, for half an hour. For an hour. Until it was well past midnight, and Amy... by that point, the woman had introduced herself, and Kyran had briefly, nervously shared his own name in return... suggested they turn back, though still at no point did she suggest wanting to actually leave the deer's company.
Beyond their introductions and the brief discussion regarding their direction of travel, they had remained quiet more or less the entire time they were walking, and they were similarly peaceful, calm and without any attempts at small talk all the way back to the same stretch of beach where they'd first stepped out onto the sand, too. Side by side they walked up the same set of steps they'd used to get onto the beach, and then, just a handful of meters from where the golden retriever had first set eyes upon the musk deer...
``I like your smile, Kyran.''
Her words were so gentle, so simple and sincere, even all of Kyran's self-conscious feelings around his species, his toothsome, oddly vicious looking muzzle, couldn't convince him that she was trying to make fun of him in any way.
``It's much better than what I saw when I first jogged past you. I... I know I don't know you at all, basically. I know I have no right to be giving you advice about anything, most times I think that people give advice way too freely just because they want other people to hear and value what they're thinking, regardless of whether it's really helpful or not. But, even if that's true for me too right now, I still do feel like it needs to be said. Whatever made you feel how you were feeling, how you looked like you were feeling earlier? If you're struggling over deciding whether to stop it... how to stop, I'm here if you'd like to talk about it. If you'd like some advice, or even just a sounding board for your own thoughts. I can't promise I'll understand, but... I promise I'll try.''
After that, she fell quiet again. It was almost 2AM by that point, and though the beachfront was far from deserted, groups still wandering past from where most the bars and clubs had started to close, alongside more than a few individual drunks wheeling and stumbling their way towards hopefully nearby homes or hotels, the silence that existed just between the two of them was a cozy slice of heaven. Kyran reveled in it for several minutes, before finally, looking down at the ground between them, he murmured his answer.
``I... I do want to fade away. But, not in a bad way. Not in a... n-not by hurting myself or, y'know, anything like that. Really. I just mean... I want to live my life without having everyone looking at me all the time. Expecting things. Waiting for me to grow, to change, to... to become more than I am. I feel like I'm enough. I feel like my life, t-the way it is already, is enough for me. But other people don't understand that. They won't let me accept that, and every time they try to help, they try to make things better by encouraging me to be more like them, or more like some idealized version of what they think someone like me should be... it just makes it worse, because as soon as I show any sign that I'm upset or anxious o-or... or anything because of what they've suggested, they just take it as proof that I'm really not happy with my life after all.''
Kyran fell silent, glad that he barely knew the woman in front of him at all, because he knew deep down that if he really had felt any real connection or obligation to her, he never would have been able to be so honest. Even considering that though, he could still feel the weight of guilt in his heart. The anxiety of anticipating her reaction, of her dismissing him or trying to awkwardly change the subject now that she realized he was dealing with some issues that simply couldn't be cast aside with a smile and a `hey, it gets better', or worse yet, her thinking that what he was saying actually applied to her, and taking it as an insult, as though his honesty was in fact cruelty that he should have been smart enough to keep to himself.
Instead though, Amy said nothing. Not at first, but... for a few moments as they just stood there near each other, Amy's eyes directly focused on Kyran's face. Not in doubt or pity, simply in quiet observation. About two more minutes passed where no words passed between them, and only her gaze met his overcast thoughts. Only then did she speak up, and even then, the words she spoke were nothing like anything Kyran could have possibly predicted.
``I think I understand. I'm sure many of those people mean well, but... even so, that's really, really kinda shitty. They should know better. They should listen more, and trust you if you tell them you're okay.''
The musk deer blinked, almost dizzy as for one of the first times in his life, he heard someone respond to a rare outpouring from his heart with almost exactly what he had always, always secretly longed to hear. Not advice. Not some self-referential anecdote that had absolutely nothing to do with his situation. Just warmth, sympathy, and sincere understanding of why he was struggling so much.
His expression must have been something special, because it made the woman in front of him giggle.
He blushed slightly, and she put a hand to her mouth to quiet herself.
``O-oh, I'm sorry if that seemed a little out of nowhere. It's just... I have a younger sister. I say `younger', I'm just guessing but she's probably still a few years older than you. She... without meaning to assume anything specific about your mental health, I think the two of you are very similar. Our parents - and a lot of other people in her life - were a lot like what you described. Still are in many cases, unfortunately. For whatever reason though... I don't claim to be some genius at interpersonal communication; maybe it was just luck that I understood what she was getting at... but, whatever the cause, I did understand her. And... really, it was just a hunch, but when I saw you today... You reminded me of her, back before she was out on her own, when she was still living at home and struggling under the weight of advice, of `help' from others that was really anything but
helpful.''
Kyran nodded. He smiled. Genuinely. His lips reached past his fangs for the first time in what felt like forever.
``Your sister... is she, is she happy, with her life the way it is?''
Amy chuckled.
``No life is perfect, obviously. And she still has to live in a society that doesn't make it easy for people who like stability and calm, given how much of media and stuff these days is all about making everyone feel the most intense things possible at all times in order to provoke clicks as reactions. But... yeah, I think she is. And when she isn't? She knows she can come talk to me about it. Or, y'know, just hang out quietly until she's able to talk about it.''
The musk deer's smile grew even further, his long fangs glinting in the light of the streetlamps shining down from along the path.
``She's lucky.''
Only after he said that thought did his mind begin to spin, to whirl with concern over how selfish that might have sounded. How ridiculously entitled it was to seem like maybe he was suggesting she, a person with the same set of problems as him, was in any way blessed and privileged just because she had a single person decent enough to look out for her. His eyes fell. His hands began to clench into fists as he wondered if he should apologize, if he should take it back, or if no matter what he did the damage had already been done.
Instead though, he heard a gentle voice. ``Hey.''
Amy didn't sound annoyed. She didn't raise her voice. She didn't even reach out and touch him unexpectedly.
She just calmly, gently drew his attention back to her, back to reality, and shook her head as she met his guilt-stricken gaze with her own more reassuring hues.
``I don't know exactly what you're thinking, but you didn't say anything inappropriate just now...okay? I'm good. We're good. There's no need to spiral on me, okay?''
The musk deer let slip a soft yet ragged whimper, as seemingly out of nowhere his bottom lip quivered. Even that reaction, that spontaneous and emotional response to being understood yet again, made his heart clench with guilt and shame, but it was then that the golden retriever lifted a hand, palm up and outstretched but still not initiating contact.
``It's okay. Here. You can hold my hand if you like. And if you think it feels weird, you can let go whenever you want, no judgement.''
Instinctively, Kyran raised a hand and began to move it towards hers. His heart thundered. His head spun. But... he withdrew the outstretched hand a moment later, and clutched it nervously to his chest.
``I... t-thanks. But, you don't have to. You... your sister. I wouldn't want to... t-to...'' His voice trailed off, and Amy raised an eyebrow.
``To what, Kyran?''
He didn't reply, but the golden retriever shook her head and sighed as if he already had.
``You're not stealing me from my sister. For one thing, it's not like I'm spending every second of my time and all my emotional energy on her. She really is fine, just happily keeping to herself the vast majority of the time these days. For another, if I'm gonna trust you to know, and to tell me what you do and don't need? Can I please ask that you offer me the same trust, or at least... that you start
considering whether you'd be willing to do so... even if it takes time?''
Kyran's cheeks flushed. He nodded bashfully, thoroughly realizing how careless his response had been. To his surprise though, even as he did open his muzzle to apologize for that error, the woman standing before him continued with one last point.
``Most importantly though, I'm not doing this for selfless reasons, because I'm some patron saint of neurodiverse sweeties or anything like that. I know I said the reason I feel like maybe I can understand you is because of my sister, but... that doesn't mean I'm treating you exactly like I would treat a sibling. So please, to avoid any confusion whatsoever so you can respond to any of my actions with the right context, let me be totally up front from this point onward. I started speaking to you because I thought you needed someone to reach out to you. But... I've spent half the night walking with you, and now even talking a little bit too, because of more than that. Because I get the feeling that you're more than just a guy who could use a little support from someone who gets what he's feeling, or at the very least wants to listen and truly understand. Maybe I'm wrong. I don't think so, and I really hope I'm not. But for now, all I can do... all I want to do, is be honest and clear with you, because I hope I'm right in thinking that being direct and not leaving anything to body language or other unspoken social cues will be easier. So... can you take my hand, while I tell you something very personal and intimate, Ky?''
As her voice faded into curious, hopeful silence, Amy reached out with her hand again, and she giggled softly at just how quickly, how immediately and genuinely without hesitation the wide-eyed musk deer reached out to place his own within its grasp.
Her thumb stroked the back of the male's hand. He blushed. He trembled. His heart skipped a beat.
``I don't like loud men. I don't like people who are aggressive and spontaneous and eager to shout over a crowd to get their own point across. I'm not like my sister, not entirely. But... I appreciate a quiet life, too. A quiet night at home with a good book, a quiet run by the ocean in summer to try and shed a little of the weight I put on from how much I love just relaxing quietly at home. And maybe that's why... that, and the fact I think you're cute as heck, I've spent all this time with you tonight. Because the more time I spent with you, the more I didn't want our time together to be over so soon. And because I hoped that eventually, if we opened up to each other enough, I'd be able to... well, to say this: Kyran - Ky? Would you... would you like to see each other again some time, after tonight for a date?''
If Kyran had been a very different kind of person, he might have laughed at the irony. At the fact that he had met a woman like Amy, a person who truly understood him, and even seemed to genuinely like him, maybe even like him not in spite of but because of the quiet, withdrawn person he was, precisely because he had in fact taken the unwanted advice of those around him to push beyond his boundaries. After all, without their awful, misguided advice, he would just have been at home playing games and reading, unaware that somewhere by the ocean, jogging her beautiful, plump body along a lamp-lit asphalt path, was a woman who if he'd been there to meet her might actually have asked him out for a date.
Thankfully, Kyran wasn't that kind of person. In fact, he was so shell-shocked by Amy's question that it didn't even occur to him, and it would only be literally weeks later when that twisted irony would finally hit home. Thus he didn't laugh. But, he did smile, and quivered excitely, breathlessly, as he nodded hurriedly to the woman standing in front of him, holding his hand and smiling back as he wrapped his fingers around her own paw in return, mutually held hers back, tightly - in case this wasn't some cruel dream.
``Okay. Good. I... g-gosh, I hoped you'd say yes but... I honestly didn't plan all that far ahead for what I'd say if you did.''
The golden retriever blushed, and giggled. And infectiously, for the first time he could ever remember... he giggled, too. They beamed at each other. They squeezed one another's hand in their own.
Honestly, they probably just could have stood there until dawn, smiling and holding hands without speaking another word.
But, instead... ``Ooorrrr...''
The retriever all but whispered, whimpering bashfully as soon as she said it, her eyes flitting back and forth as if the most salacious and taboo idea was crossing her mind and that the scant few denizens still up at this hour would somehow hear her several meters away.
Kyran tilted his head, eyes wide with genuinely curious, completely unaware but enthusiastic interest at what else Amy, the beautiful lady who he had just agreed to go on a date - a real, actual date with... was about to say.
``A-and please, don't feel obligated or in any way pressured by this. I promise I want to see you again, to go out with you no matter what. But... just because I want to be extra up front and honest about everything I can, everything I feel comfortable sharing with you about my interest in you... I, I still don't want this night to end. I'd like to talk to you more. Or, maybe not even talk. But, spend time with you... get to know more about you, how you are when you're content and relaxed, not so stressed out you want to disappear. So, either way I'd like to go on a date with you, Kyran. But if you'd like to get to know me more too, a-and, if you don't want to wait either...''
Amy lifted her other paw, nodded reassuringly, and beamed as Kyran raised his own free hand to take it alongside the first. She took a small step towards him, closing the distance between them, and giggled when rather than looking worried or trying to take a step back, Kyran's face reddened, and his already bright, eager smile grew all the more into a dazzling, toothy grin.
``Maybe you'd like to come home with me, Ky. And... at whatever pace you're comfortable with: talking, holding hands... a-anything more than that, too... would you like to stay with me for the rest of the night?''
So, I found this commission pretty personal as I drew it from my own experience and abysmal luck in the physical dating scene. I could go on and on about how people are just thrown together in a bar and be expected to naturally hit it off..but we can save that for some long, venty, vaguely self-threatening journal with comments disabled.
I asked him to write a summer-themed story about someone who has just as much trouble climbing the hurdles of socialism as myself or other introverts out there. Pray that one day the sun will break through the storm, and that we will be fixed. 🤞
