The training session with Simone had run late. I was exhausted, as usual, after training with her. They were designed to be stressful, but knowing that didn’t make the sessions any easier. Though I was glad my schedule alternated between the training and my work in the System Information Department – I could get a breather.
I walked up the steps of my apartment complex, the stars and oil streetlamps the only source of light. All I wanted was to go home and sleep, but Leslie had asked me to stop by tonight. When I opened the door to their apartment, a feast was laid out on the table.
I glanced from the food to Leslie, who stood nervously at the end of the table. Even in the shadows of the flickering candlelight, I could see the look of worry on their face. After shutting the door behind me, I crossed my arms, waiting for them to explain. What were they up to with this?
“I’m sorry,” Leslie said. “I shouldn’t have talked to your friend the way I did. Besides,” they scratched at their ear, glancing away sheepishly, “it’s not like the last time you had a friend I didn’t trust.”
I couldn’t help the amused smile that spread across my face. Leslie’s method of apology was adorable. I wandered over to the table, leaning against the chair to take in the delicious scents. Everything looked fantastic.
“You realize I’m not the one you should be apologizing to, right?” I asked.
Leslie shifted on their feet, not meeting my eyes. “Uh… but you were the one who was mad. And itejwotkmlfsdjnhteujifn.”
I narrowed my eyes at them. Leslie looked at the ceiling, their fingers fidgeting with their shirt. They didn’t really think they could get out of this, did they? I wasn’t about to let this go. “I won’t be happy until you apologize to Celeste,” I finally said.
Leslie looked at me, frowning. When I stubbornly held their gaze, Leslie groaned.
“Fine,” they said with a sigh. “What kind of food does she like?”
I blinked. What did she like? Even after all the time we’d known each other, I didn’t know much about Celeste’s preferences… on anything. “I’m… not sure,” I said. “But she doesn’t eat meat.”
“I’ll make her a dessert then,” Leslie said. They glanced down at the food. “This isn’t gonna go to waste, is it?”
“Of course not,” I said, finally settling into my seat and devouring the feast Leslie had made.
To be continued…