Arthur looked up at the fourth floor window. It was dark, but he didn't think Digitalis would be up at this hour. Regardless, Arthur had a key and the front desk knew him.
The damp September morning had an early autumn chill and gray clouds above threatened rain, which would have been more pleasant if Arthur had thought to put on a coat. Arthur's dark wavy waist-length hair was twisted back in a half-undone nighttime braid; his freckled olive skin was pale; and his shoulders were exposed in his wrap-type tank top. His jeans were warm enough for the lower half of his body, but he stood with his arms wrapped around his chest and his black-feathered wings puffed out a little at his sides to keep him warmer. Arthur had awakened to a phone call at half-past five in the morning, to a pleasant voice bearing...not unwelcome news, he reasoned to himself. If it wasn't unwelcome though, why was his stomach hot and roiling like he was angry? He didn't know. He'd simply slid on his sandals and blustered out of his apartment, smashing his bad wing on the doorjamb and cursing all the way down the stairs.
Outside Digitalis's apartment building, Arthur took another look up at the window, steadied his wings, and stepped decisively toward the door-
"Arthur?"
Arthur jumped. The first thing he saw was Digitalis's blunt, glossy bluejay wings, a shade darker than his short wavy blue hair. Arthur couldn't see much of him underneath that though: Digitalis was carrying a haphazardly-stacked pile of groceries in his arms, teetering dangerously in brown bags as he craned his neck to peer at Arthur through a gap. Digitalis's normally tan face was red and he was panting. Arthur approached him and took half the groceries, also pulling open the door.
"Why thank you," said Digitalis brightly. "Are you here to help me with these?"
They entered the building and set down the groceries when Digitalis signed them in, and they made their way over to the elevator. Arthur took an extra stack of grocery bags from Digitalis while he unlocked the door.
Ten minutes later, Arthur plopped back onto Digitalis's couch, brushing the floor behind it with his flight feathers.
"So uh...I thought it was your day off? Did you not want to sleep in?" said Digitalis, entering the room and sitting down next to Arthur. His face was still pink, making his clear, pupilless amber eyes seem brighter.
"I uh...couldn't sleep," yawned Arthur. "Why were you out shopping this early?"
Digitalis grinned. "Well I got some good news yesterday, and I couldn't sleep either."
Arthur's phone vibrated and he took it out of his pocket. He couldn't keep his attention focused, and opened the message. He closed it and set his phone aside when he saw who it was, muttering, "oh of course she knows" under his breath.
"Is it Rabb?" asked Digitalis. "Bear, she told me she doesn't care what happened between you. She just wants to talk to you again."
Arthur sank in his seat and leaned on Digitalis, burying his face in the fluffy shoulder of Digitalis's coat. It was still cool from outside, and smelled like chilly rain. "I know, Digit," Arthur groaned. "Just...I just need a little time. I have to process this first."
Digitalis put his arm around Arthur's shoulders. "Process what? What happened?"
Arthur gritted his teeth, his wing twitching restlessly and still throbbing from getting slammed in the doorway as he'd left his apartment. "Can we talk about it later? I can't do it right now."
"Sure thing, Bear," said Digitalis, sitting up a little. "Would you like some breakfast? I can start some rice for loco moco, or make chocolate chip pancakes - not as perfect of yours of course, but they taste the same."
"I don't know what I want," said Arthur. "I'm tired and..." he sat up, and Digitalis shifted so Arthur could lean on him without squashing his wing into the couch. Arthur gratefully stretched out on the couch against Digitalis, nuzzling into Digitalis's chest through his jacket. Arthur listened quietly to the steady rhythm of Digitalis's breathing for several minutes while Digitalis rubbed his back, occasionally switching to preening the downy black feathers between Arthur's wings. It was comforting, and the frozen knot of indecisiveness in Arthur's belly began to thaw slowly. When he noticed he was finally starting to feel better, he twisted a little to look up at the clock. It was a quarter to seven in the morning: he'd only left his apartment an hour before.
