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Warm Up - 12 | Train Ride to Nowhere

The time was five past nine in the evening but the skies looked like they were past six. A pale blue-green shade, canvassing on barely lit skyscrapers of people who worked overtime. At this hour no one was on the streets, not even on this train other than the two of us. There were five of us when we boarded; a sleeping hooded tiger who awoke startled because he missed his station. Didn't even ask any of us, just left the moment the train stopped. And the others were a pair of robot divas on their way to a sort of gala, and they wore these glittering dresses and crystalline heels that were actually plastic because of its lack of shine and weight on each step.

Once they had gone, it was just myself and my friend who made an unfulfillable bet if one of them would trip at the party and break said heels. I followed up with a rant about my distaste for fake shoes or clothing even though he and I wore knock-offs of more popular brands. We couldn't really name one off the top of our head because even we couldn't afford to think of them.

There wasn't much to continue with that conversation so we lamented more on our day. We spent this last day doing real couple stuff even though he and I were just good friends. Listening to vinyls together in an RnR cafe, watching some lame movie where we made raspberries and laughing obnoxiously loud at the bad jokes, and a walk in the park, along its lake.

I leaned against him then, as we watched the sun dip below the mountain range, and his lovely scent of grass mixed with the evening dew. He knew I enjoyed doing what I did, and had let me do it for five minutes before he told me that his shoulder was getting tired. So I let him rest it around my neck, and I embraced around his side getting closer to him. By the time the sun had gone and the lamp posts were fully illuminated, I gave him a tight hug, and he did to me too.

And I thought it couldn't get better than that. A one-time moment that I had to preserve in my memory for years to come. How Nicholas had told me about Ven before, and even he had to let go of such pleasantries. Because he, like I worried about, only found pain the longer he reminisced of such beauty he would never ever have again.

Yet, here in this train, my friend told me to move closer to the edge of our seat, much closer to the door of the passenger cabin. My heart sank in cold worry when he suggested it, but it arose in gentle warmth when I saw him trying to lie down on somewhat uncomfortable plastic seating. It was quite difficult for him because he was a tall green furred dragon after all, but at least he used his feathery wings as cushions.

After he finished arranging himself, we were facing one another with his head resting on my lap and my face looking down at his. Our smiles were crossed, and he chuckled with blinking eyes that sided to the window across. There I saw our reflection and it did look goofy but in a nice way.

I glanced over to the destination header at the other end, our train going in between apartment blocks. The destination was Eastern Glassdale, and there were five more stations between that and Southern Glassdale, almost like a clock I told him.

He looked above him, thinking about what I said. And it hit him, and then me, that this elevated rail system traveled around the shape of a clock. Around the clock! It was dumb but it made us laugh, and I smacked the wall as I did. I stopped though because the train rumbled, almost reactive to what I did.

My friend taunted me, stating that the train was alive. So I booped his nose and he blepped at me, then I told him that we were alive. And I told him that I felt alive because of what we did today, and what he was doing to me now.

I instinctively reached down after I said it, stroking his left cheek, and he closed his eyes to relish in the caress. His wings fluttered, and that scent from earlier emanated once more, almost like the evening dew clung onto him. And his hand found my belly, rubbing it through my shirt and he hummed as he did.

I stopped my motion and let him as I leaned back and relaxed myself trying to match his hums. It was a slow song it seemed and I only picked up whenever he got to the chorus. And once that trance was over, he had hugged my arm that I stroked his cheek with.

My friend had fallen into a nap, and I stroked the top of his head with my other hand. I felt his horns, sturdy and smooth. My temples felt more conscious at the thought of having horns myself, and trembled at the worry of snapping them whether his or my hypotheticals. Nonetheless it made him smile when I caressed it, and he let out a satisfied exhale when I reached its base.

He felt at peace, happy, and content. I smiled and wondered if I was too. I glanced at that window again, this time we were passing through an area with low-lying buildings. I saw myself contemplating if this joy was genuine. There was a long distraught look on my face, I couldn't just smile whenever I saw myself. I felt guilty, remorseful, and almost on the verge of tears. And I looked down and felt calm, and it shouldn't be this way.

How could I be more to him if I couldn't even do it to myself and for myself? I looked back up, sterned, letting out a sigh of frustration that melted into will. I should follow the advice I would tell my friends, and that it worked for them too. I had to improve myself more for the sake of myself first and foremost. And that way I would find myself in a healthier relationship, or friendships moving forward.

The train rumbled aggressively as I concluded such thoughts, and perhaps my friend's assumption was right; this train was alive. I tittered at the idea, and it awoke the sleeping giant with it.

"Hey, Rick," he whispered. The nap seemed like a full on rest that left him groggy and yawned.

I whispered, "Yeah?" I rested my hand on his chest, feeling its slow and rhythmic beat. "What's up?"

"You're such a good boy." He snickered.

I exhaled hot air from my nostrils and looked away with red cheeks. "I'm not," I answered.

"You are."