Fuzzybootz
Heat
What was it about certain images randomly conjuring within his psyche at the most unusual of times? What triggered them? The brief flashes of memories that seemed so real yet he barely remembered ever living it. They’d been haunting the man for years, ever since the other world chose him. Ever since they decided he was to be one of hundreds to help solve their problems in the mortal realm, and continue the trend of anonymity for the Shadowland.
Changelings never intended to disrupt the lives of their human hosts, but rather allow them to live it to the fullest in order for the essence that flowed in each to fuel the strange world beneath. It was their dependency on the mortal realm which ultimately kept humanity from dwindling.
Warm water cascaded from the stainless steel shower head onto strong, broad, tired shoulders, each muscle in his body slowly beginning to loosen as the heat and steam penetrated and relaxed him physically and mentally. Ethan had been standing there for a good fifteen minutes before realizing he'd still needed to wash, his mind doing it's best to reconcile the dark glimpses into strange places and beings he didn't understand. It had, for the last few years, become almost like a puzzle he was determined to solve, but just when he thought he had all the pieces in their proper places, they would scatter once again, putting the whole process into a chaotic spin and back to square one.
“I suppose I'll simply go nuts before I figure any of this out.” He muttered under his breath, letting out a sigh before grabbing a washcloth and soap to actually finish cleaning up.
His date with Clare was about an hour away, and while he hoped for a little downtime before then, he also wasn't one to be late for anything. Not even “fashionable late” as she used to call it considering the girl's track record for not being very punctual. However, that was then, and they were older, perhaps even wiser to some degree, so it was nice to start fresh. Things in the beginning were good, no, they were great actually. Two people couldn't have been more right for one another, and the sex...well that was icing on the cake. Ethan and Clarissa didn't just make love passionately, they made music. It had been a symphony of moans, pushes, pulls, screams, fingernails, and sweat.
Life was good then. Simple.
Ethan’s ears perked up at the subtle, indistinct sound of what could only be considered echoed whispers. He quickly rinsed soap from his hair and body, before turning the water off, standing in the large gray two-toned tile shower with glass doors, alone and in silence, save for the leftover water trickling from the showerhead. About ten seconds had passed before he stepped out and onto the floor mat, grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist and listen once again for something that could have easily been all in his head.
“Hello?” His commanding tone echoed in the master bathroom and out into the bedroom, but no response came, and he shook his head in disbelief while a half-smile formed along his lips. “Get your head in the game, Ethan.” He sighed, sliding open the wide pocket-door which lead into a walk-in closet more organized than even the most chic of men’s clothing stores. Overall, he felt everything needed to be in it’s spot, something that wasn’t always prevalent in his life up until he began contract work as a “Fixer”, and which now could almost be considered borderline obsessive compulsive.
Being in the entertainment business, specifically as a consultant for nightclubs, he had always been quite the sharp dresser, keeping up with the latest trends in men’s fashion as well as holding onto more casual and simple clothes for days where he just didn’t need to put on a facade. Although each day felt like he had to put on a mask for someone, little by little losing a piece of himself to an unseen world, all while maintaining some semblance of a decent single life. It had been difficult to keep relationships, always springboarding from one to another, but never settling, never allowing the other person to delve too far in his life.
Dammit. Why did Clare have to walk back into my life again?
The face in the wall mirror glanced back at the man with satisfaction as he adjusted the collar on a dark gray fitted button-down, and slid on a pair of simple black slacks that hugged just enough to allow flexibility. A pair of black dress shoes and blazer finished off the wardrobe. Ethan suggested casual dress for tonight, nothing too over-the-top, but also giving them both a chance to impress the other, even if for no other reason than because they could. Neither would care though, not if they had enough to catch up on. And besides, it was a place they’d gone a handful of times before many years ago, and probably one of the best sushi bars in all of Manhattan, so at least it would be comfortable and familiar for them both.
Nerves. It was a strange sort of feeling for someone like him considering very little unhinged the man. But there was something about the thought of seeing Clare again that brought him back to the first time they’d met at a nightclub he had been bartending at. But what was there to be nervous about? Two lost souls coming back around in the circle of life for good food and few drinks. Perhaps. But she’d also been one of the only women he truly loved, and that in and of itself scared him.
