FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

The knocking of the door became so insistent, so perversely annoying, it disrupted the young male's sleep. With a loud groan he got up and sleepily walked towards the bathroom. It had been a short night, a heavy day at work the day before... His mind wanted more sleep, but whoever was at the door knocking didn't share that goal with him.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Ugh... Coming..." He said as he washed his face a little bit with cold water, trying to wash away his sleepiness. He gave his reflection in the mirror a couple glances, as if the essence behind that sleepy face would change if he looked at it enough. His fur wasn't brushed, and his eyes looked heavy and tired.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"I said, I'm coming!!" He said a bit more exasperated. It was Friday, and he had the day off. He would've loved to sleep in, but apparently that wasn't an option anymore. The heater rumbled as it tried to fend off the cold air from a February morning that was trying to sneak in.

"I swear, if it's that vacuum salesman again..." He groaned. His hands made a motion as if he was snapping someone's neck, obviously an exaggeration but nonetheless an indication of his current frustration. He walked to his room again and got his naked furry butt into a pair of old jeans and a shirt that was in dire need of a pressing. He didn't care, he only needed to look decent enough to drive whoever was out there out so he would return to his delicious slumber...

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Grumble mumble..." He made out beneath his breath, as he finished up with his clothes and headed towards the door. He paused for a second, collecting himself before opening the front door slowly, hissing softly at the rush of gelid air that rushed inside once he did. Without giving whoever was at the door a look, he began to talk.

"I already have a vacuum cle-" he began, before he was greeted by a massive hug from a fur in an equally massive trench coat.

"LUCKY!!!!!" Came the voice. It took him a couple extra seconds to really get who the fur beneath that massive coat was. His anger dissipated at once, now that he knew who this mysterious and unannounced visitor was.

"Danni! What are you...?" He said quickly, returning the hug.

"That can wait, I'm fucking freezing out here, care to let me in?" Danni asked.

"Uh? Y-yeah! Yeah, no, yeah, absolu... Sure!" Lucas said, still a bit sleepy and groggy as he got out of the way for his friend to come in.

"Sorry for almost tearing your door down with the knocking, I was just too cold..." Danni apologized.

"It's fine, don't worry about it" Lucas said softly as he closed the door and upped the thermostat a couple extra degrees.

"Thanks... So, how've you been? I heard that the business meeting yesterday went like shit..." Danni said softly, reveling in the feel of warmth inside the house.

"Oh, don't even mention that... Fuck, I thought that gross-berg and associates wanted to merge, but apparently they wanted to buy us out of the competition for the new litigation process... I had to spend five hours just convincing our rep team that we would most definitely go bankrupt if we took the deal..." He began, moving towards the kitchen. "But I don't want to bore you with the details. Hot cocoa?" He asked as he got some chocolate and a small bag of marshmallows.

"That would be nice, thanks"

"Sure... But yeh, I was gonna just take the day off. Not that I don't like you being here though" he said with a chuckle as he prepared a couple of mugs full of delicious hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows on it. Both paused to take a sip, and moaned softly at the warm sweetness of the drink.

"I've always loved how you make these..." Danni said softly. "Does the fireplace in your living room work?"

"It does. I keep it burning most of these nights, since the central heater usually needs a bit of help in heating up the place when it's this cold..." Lucas said with a chuckle.

"I thought as much... It's the part I love most about this house. That, and the big ass fluffy rug you have in front of it... I'd sleep there every single night of my life" Danni said with a giggle and another sip of the chocolate. "I'm sure I've said this like, a million times, but you have a great house to live on..."

"Thanks... So, what brings you here on this cold morning?" The male asked, yawning softly.

"Well, it's Valentine's Day, you silly...!" Was the reply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. At once Lucas remembered that that was one of the reasons he had the day off.

"Oh! Right, I forgot it was today... It's so nice of you to swing by to wish me happy valentines..." He said with a smile as he took a sip and set the mug down.

"Oh, I didn't come here to wish you a happy valentine's day" Was the reply. Lucas looked at Danni with a weird gaze.

"Wait, then... Why...?" He began to ask, but then noticed that Danni's trench coat buttons were being undone.

"Lucky, silly silly Lucky..." The fur said as the trench coat fell to the floor. Lucas' jaw dropped as well. All traces of sleepiness were taken away from him in that very instant, his hands shaking. Had he not placed the mug on the counter it would've shattered on the floor.

"You don't really...?" Lucas asked. His voice wasn't nearly as confident as it sounded when he thought he was going to confront the vacuum salesman.

"Lucky oh Lucky... I'm here to MAKE it a happy Valentine's Day" Danni said with a teasing smirk.

---

She shifted her arms back, allowing the coat to slide down to the floor, and I sat there awestruck as I watched the flickering fire cast dancing light upon her sapphire blue scales. She swept her long, finned tail in lazy sweeps as she stretched backwards just perfectly to flare her webbed wings and show off every gleaming inch of her naked body.

She gave me what had to be the sexiest "come hither" look in the whole world. I knew that look well. It was the way she looked when she wanted me, when she needed me, when she was about to fuck my ever loving brains out. With a shaking hand, I reached out to grab my hot cocoa and took a faltering swallow. Of course it would be today. It couldn't have been tomorrow, or yesterday, or any other day at all, of course it would be on Valentine's day. I slowly got up, turned my back to her, and walked to the kitchen, single step by single step. She could tell by the ashen look on my face that something was amiss, and she took a few faltering steps after me, trailing me to the kitchen.

"Lucky... Lucky, what's wrong?"

I didn't answer. Into the pantry, up to the top shelf; it was where I kept the strong alcohol, the good stuff, only to be used in dire circumstances. This counted. If she'd been anxious and confused at my reaction, she was alarmed by the half-empty bottle of tequila in my hand.

"Lucky, please, talk to me, What's going on?"

I couldn't answer. Not now... not yet. I took a fortifying swig from the bottle and padded past her with dead eyes, into my room. She trailed after me still, fear plain across her face. Perhaps she knew, deep down, what was about to happen. It was something that she'd thought of, perhaps, but never really considered as a possibility. I was her love. Her calm harbor. She could depend on me no matter what. That was what she told herself, but her reassurances did nothing to calm her fear.

The little bedside table. It was too small to keep anything in it, so I didn't bother. That was what I'd told her. That was what she'd always believed. I set the bottle there, then opened the top drawer. There they were. Right where I always kept them. My two most precious possessions. Danni had realized, perhaps, that I wasn't going to talk until I was ready, so she stood in my doorway, naked and silent, watching me. It felt surreal. I felt like an actor on the stage, walking through the steps of someone else's life, and that was good. The pain would surely come later, so I was glad for the dull lack of feeling while it lasted. I withdrew the items fro the drawer, then sat on the bed, holding the two things that mattered most to me.

In my right hand was my father's hunting knife. The blade was the bayonet from my great grandfather's rifle in World War one. After the war was over, he took one of the antlers from the first deer he'd ever killed hunting with his father, and he made a knife from the bayonet and the bone. It was a family relic, passed from father to son ever since. The tempered steel was blued until it was black, but the cutting edge still showed bright silver.

In my left was a little velvet box, the kind rings come in. Danni gasped when she saw it, confused by my apparent pain. I set the box on the table and grabbed the bottle instead, motioning her towards it while I took another drink to hold back the emotion. She stepped forwards, still town between emotions. At any other time, this would have been the happiest moment of her life, but here? Now? Dread almost stilled her heart as she forced herself forwards.

Inside the box was a golden ring, with a small diamond set on top. It was nothing special, nothing ornate, but it was still precious to me. It had been my mother's, passed down her family line from mother to son for longer than anyone could remember. around the golden band, thirteen unevenly spaced notches were cut in the soft surface. The first tears fell from her face then, but I wasn't looking. I was staring hard at the unseen horizon, eyes unfocused so that her pain wouldn't tempt me to change my mind. Then, in a soft voice, I spoke.

"The first time you walked out my door, it broke my heart. I don't remember what we were fighting over, I only remember that we were both so infuriated. On the way out, you denounced me, and all that I was, and I shattered into so many pieces that I couldn't stand any taller than the floor. You came back though... Two weeks, three days, and fifteen minutes after you left, you walked back into my life begging me to take you back. I was overjoyed... My life was complete again, and I realized how much I needed you with me. It was at that moment that I decided that I wanted to propose to you. The moment you were gone on some errand, I rushed into my room, grabbed my father's knife and my mother's ring, and I cut a notch in the gold, near the diamond. It was symbolic then. I would marry you, and the notched ring would be passed down, with a lesson; everyone deserves a second chance. I had a plan for how to propose, when, where, everything. You were gone at work, but I had the day off, so I spent the entire day getting ready. I homemade a delicious meal, pork tenderloin with mashed potatoes, your favorite. I set the table for a candle lit dinner. I dressed in my best suit. Then I sat on the couch and waited. And waited. And waited. At two A.M., you walked in the door, drunk off your rocker, stumbled straight into bed and went to sleep. It hurt. It hurt almost as bad as the day you walked out, but I wasn't mad. I was a little disheartened that you hadn't even called me to tell me you would be late, but I didn't blame you. I had long ago put dinner into the fridge, so I showered, then went to bed where you were already snoring."

"The next morning, as we both got ready for work, I mentioned in passing that I would like for you to text me at least if you were going to be out late. You took offense to it. It turned from a simple comment into an argument, and old water was pulled up from under the bridge. You walked out on me again, and you promised that you would never come back. The pain was almost as harsh as the first time, but I convinced myself that it was my fault, that I had insulted you. So I waited. A week, two, three, an entire month, and then you came back, drunk again, flowing tears and begging me to allow you to make it up. Begging me to let you take back what you assured me was the worst mistake of your life. You were hung over on that morning. You were still half drunk from the night before that. You promised that you would never do it again. We made up, had sex, and then, when you were asleep, I cut a second notch into the ring. That notch too was symbolic. Some people need time to realize what is right for them, what they really need."

"From there, cutting the ring became a habit. We'd be madly in love for a few months, have a huge fight, then you'd walk out my door with the promise that you would never return. It got to where I didn't even wait for you to come back, I'd walk over and cut a notch in the ring the moment you left; you would come back. You always came back."

"When I was halfway around the ring at four marks, I became afraid. What if I ran out of space on the ring? What would that say? I told myself that it didn't matter, that this time you meant it. You weren't going to walk out again. You weren't going to break my heart one more time. All the same, I started to cut the notches closer together, as close as I could. At eight marks, 3/4 of the way around the ring, I made myself a promise. The bayonet had saved my great grandfather more than once in the war. The knife saved my grandfather from a wolf who caught him in his hunting blind. It had saved my father's life, gave him a weapon to bluff with when a mugger drew a knife on him. Now, if it ran out of space to cut against my mother's ring..."

I couldn't finish the sentence. I took another long pull from the bottle, and it burned all the way down. I hadn't had breakfast yet, so the heady warmth was already spreading through my veins. She was openly crying as she examined the ring, sniffling quietly as tears poured down her face. Along one side, the cuts were widely spaced, thoughtless marks made by a brash hand. Along the other side, the cuts were tightly pack, as tight as could be, with the last one scraping against the diamond itself. She set the ring back on the night stand carefully. Everything made sense now, and she sobbed as she tackled me to the bed. The knife was lost amongst the sheets, and the tequila started to leak out against my pillow. I managed to upright the bottle even as great shaking sobs wracked through her body.

"Lucky, I'm so sorry... I... this changes everything, I swear. I'll be your wife, I'll be faithful. I swear I'll never get mad at you again, I swear that I won't break your heart."

It was an old song, bittersweet, filled with emotion, like so many others. It had made me glad every time I'd heard it, but this time it only cut right to my heart with a jagged blade. I didn't move, didn't breath a word, and at my lack of reaction, she loosened her grip to look at me through tear stained eyes.

It was enough. I raised one palm to push on her shoulder, applying gentle pressure until she got off of me. I stood up beside her, then bent down to open the second drawer of that pitifully tiny bedside table. It was way too small to hold anything important... but it was just large enough. I'd bought a blindfold, an old five dollar iCap mini, and the best sound cancelling ear phones money could buy. I took another large pull from the bottle, set it on the table, then walked out with the three items in my hand. She trailed behind me, still crying, but mercifully silent as her heart started to crack. I sat down at the Piano that my mother had insisted I learn how to play, cracking my knuckles as I contemplated the gleaming ivory. I hadn't looked at Danni once since she removed her clothes, but I knew she'd followed me from the soft sound of her talons clicking against the tile. On went the blindfold, in went the ear buds. See no evil, hear no evil, speak only truth. I knew if I looked at her straight, if I heard her voice even once more, my resolve would crack, and I'd take her back. I knew that if I gave myself even half of a chance, I would take her back wholeheartedly.

I also knew that, if I did... then the next time she walked out, it would kill me. I knew if I took her back, and she left again, she'd take my heart with her, and I would be left as just a rotting husk.

"I'm sorry Danielle. More than once, I thought you had left me for good. More than once, I thought I had wasted years of waiting for you. More than once, I'd made peace with the fact that I would never see you again. Then you would storm right back into my life and heal my aching wounds just to slice me to ribbons again. I tried... I tried so hard to make this work... I tried so hard to understand. All I wanted was to be here for you, all I wanted was to be yours, but... I can't. I knew this would be the last time, so this time when you left, I followed you. I followed you all the way to the bar. I sat in the corner as I watched you drink and sob. Then I watched a tall, dark wolf walk up and take you in his arms. I watched you go home in his car. I didn't follow you after that. I didn't need to. It's so hard to end it, and I said peace before, but this time I meant it."

There was only one playlist on this iCap, one short list of songs. As the first started, my fingers fell upon the ivory keys, and I poured my heart out into something that could hold it without breaking it. I sang as I played, song after song, I let the music cradle my soul gently, sound flowing through my body in an attempt to hold onto serenity for as long as I could.

Getting Over You, Valentine's Day, Remembering Sunday, You and Tequila, Thin line, Psychosocial Baby, Forget and Not Slow Down, KRWLNG, Best of You, Free Fallin', You Should Have Killed Me When You Had the Chance, Two Weeks, Vanilla Twilight, Jasey Rae, Don't Close Your Eyes, If It Means a Lot to You, The Light Behind You Eyes, Where'd You Go, I Don't Need a Soul, In Between, American Pie, My December

I played until the songs ran out. The beautiful, haunting tunes finally came to an end, my exhausted arms fell to my side. My throat felt like someone had dragged knives through it, but I had sung as best I could right up through the very last song, and I felt better for it. I would never get over the girl who made my life special, but a lifetime of bittersweet memories is better than a lifetime of suffering. My ears rang a little bit, echoing slightly from the emotion so recently pouring through them, music directly into my soul, but I had run out of songs, like I had run out of emotion.

I stood up slowly, turned around, and took a cautious step forwards. I had my right hand held out in front of me, and as I moved to take another step towards my bedroom, I stopped. She was still there.

She was still there, waiting for me. She made no sound, no movement, nothing at all, and although I couldn't see or hear her, I could feel her presence there. The proximity of my love, so close to me... even blindfolded I could still feel her because of the love that bound us. It might have been my imagination, but I even thought I could sense her arm, stretched out to me, wanting so desperately to take my hand in hers, but... she knew that she couldn't. She knew she couldn't force me to love her. She knew she couldn't force me to be with her. She stood there, heart like an open, hungry maw, hand out held, waiting for my fingers to brush hers.

I took one step to the side. Hand still raised, I stepped forwards. One step. One more. One more. I passed so close to her that I could feel the heat emanating from her bare shoulder, but our bodies did not touch like they so desperately wanted to. One more step. One more step. I found my way into my bedroom, then groped around the covers until I cut myself slightly on the knife. I placed the knife on the table, then found the bottle of tequila. I drained it, downing every remaining drop in one pull, and on my already sore throat it felt like swallowing broken glass soaked in liquid fire. It helped. The physical pain gave me something to focus on. Then, alcohol seeping into my blood, I went back to sleep.

I awoke several hours later, absolutely destroyed from the poison flowing through my veins. Groggily, I removed the blindfold and pulled off the ear-buds. Everything was exactly how I had left it. Sliced ring and crime-stained dagger on the bedside table. Empty bottle in my hand. I walked through my house slowly, alone. Her coat was gone from the floor. Her scent was gone from the air. Gone... the word floated through my mind, and I sighed, rubbing my temples. Gone. Gone for the day? Gone for the week? Gone for the rest of my life? I didn't know. I walked into the kitchen to find some food, but instead I found an envelope with my name on it in her flowing script. Numbly, I reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a lighter. I should throw it away. I should read it. I should burn it, erase it from existence. I should rush to wherever she was, and sweep her up in my arms. I should call her, beg her to take me back. I should delete her number from my phone. The flame flickered, inches from the paper, but my resolve wavered, and I extinguished the flame. I couldn't destroy it. Not now. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. I stumbled back into my bedroom, letter in hand, then fell to my knees before the bedside table. Knife and Ring went into the top drawer, but this time, there was a letter to go in with them. I couldn't read it, couldn't open myself back up to the pain. Not now. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. I knew that if I did, seeing her heart poured out on ink and paper would break me.

I gently closed the drawer, then walked out of my bedroom and back into my life. Alone, for now, for awhile at least. Peacefully, blissfully, painfully alone.