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deleteddewewted · 2 months ago

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Supermarket Romance P3

Modern! Titus x Reader

S: His first conversation has inspired him to try and build greater connections with the people he already speaks to. His therapist is overjoyed with this development advising him that in due time he will see his anxiety dwindle as exposure is the best type of therapy. Titus is motivated and encouraged even, to pursue further socializing with you. Hopefully, this could be the start of a new connection.

W: PTSD episodes, Depression, Anxiety Disorders, Reader is a broke Artist, Titus works as an Analyst for a company, Ableist comments (From Titus and to Titus)

Previous / Next

He didn’t know why he continued to do this to himself. Guilliman had told him to buy a notepad or set reminders on his phone but Titus refused to do so. It got to the point that Guilliman bought him his very own notepad with differently formatted pages so that he could use it for whatever he needed. He once again forgot to take the notepad or write anything down in it as he was browsing the grocery store shelves searching for something he knew he needed but forgot.

His forgetfulness only grew worse with the more he remembered the conversation he had with you a few days back. He couldn’t stop himself from reliving it as it was a weird source of comfort. You didn’t frown at him or make a displeased face. You looked at im, really looked at him, and didn’t think any different about his appearance. Even his doctor at times made faces when talking about his injuries. It made it hard to live in his body at times. But you made it tolerable, at least for the moment.

He mindlessly grabbed whatever was in front of him, not even bothering to read the label or check the price as he continued to relish in the memory before being snapped out of it by his phone buzzing. He pulled it out of his pocket, hoping to see a call from his doctor or Chairon but he was instead met with his boss's name. He frowned at the still-ringing phone but still answered the call reluctantly.

“Hello, Mr. Guilliman.” Titus greeted.

“For the love of everything, Demetrian. Stop calling me 'Mr. Guilliman'. I’m not just your boss, I’m your friend. Reframe from such a habit.” The younger man shouted. It never ceased to surprise Titus just how odd Guilliman was. Their age difference made this even more odd considering that Guilliman was also his superior at the office. It felt awkward to have his boss be younger than him but he guessed he couldn't complain too much as he himself was once a young Lieutenant and Captain who led men and women off all ages. Age didn't matter too much in the military if you had the ability to prove yourself capable of the work being assigned to you.

He assumed this is why Guilliman didn't stay longer in the military and didn't resign his contract. His might and his brain weren't worth being wasted in combat when it could be used for more analytical and important tasks such as leadership in the bureaucratic system they lived in. In a way, Titus was glad the younger man had left. Guilliman looked more relaxed working in an office than working in a tent in the middle of nowhere.

“I will do my best to refrain from addressing you in that way.” Titus complied.

“Good. Now, I have a question for you if you aren’t too busy.” Titus could practically hear the grin that was spreading across his boss's face.

“I’m not.” Titus began to walk down the aisle and into a new one as he spoke on the phone. He readjusted his phone so he could hold it with his other hand instead of the same hand that carried his basket full of groceries.

“I have an event that I want you to attend. I’m having some of my best employees come with me to help push and talk numbers with some big players in the industry that Father is interested in doing business with. This will be over the span of a week but won't be until a few months from now.” Guilliman explained.

“Ok?”

“I wanted to ask if you had anyone or any responsibilities that might interfere with this event.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Guilliman teased.

“I’m positive.”

“That’s a shame, I was hoping you’d say yes so I could get you an extra ticket for a potential plus one.” Guilliman added. Titus stopped in his tracks, processing what his superior had just said. Plus one? The only person he could think of that Guilliman might be insinuating is you and it made him feel unease.

Titus had mentioned you in passing during their lunch break. They had been speaking on the phone and decided to have lunch together to catch up on what the other was doing outside of work. He had been talking about how he had met someone at the supermarket who had caught his attention because of how they shopped. He didn’t know how to explain to Guilliman that you reminded him of his mother and how she would take great care in reading and observing costs and food contents when buying food. He didn’t know how to explain that he liked that you dressed the way you did, uncaring if some may criticize you for looking poorly in the middle of the day. He thought it was unique and quirky that you gave such a lacking amount of care to what those around you thought of you. It almost helped him feel less judged when he shopped.

Since then, Guilliman had tried getting him to talk more about you or about any of his few friends outside of himself. Guilliman found it interesting to see just how much Titus needed routines and positive reassurances to know he was doing good. This was in stark contrast to the Captain he had known who didn't seek praise and would scream his lungs out at privates and soldiers during drills and combat. A larger-than-life man who lived to serve was now reduced to an anxious mess who needed reinforcement. It was a fall from grace that Guilliman dared not talk about since he knew that his comments would do more damage than good.

All that Guiliman knew was that predictability and transparency helped Titus and that had remained the same even now. Guilliman wasn't complaining, Titus had been more talkative, more communicative, more present. He had found some strength to come into the office for small project events or meetings that could have been done remotely or even on an email debrief. He was seeing great developments in work and he wanted to nurture these new habits since it slowly brought out the man Titus once was.

"I dont know them well enough for that, Roboute." Titus explained.

"The event is 4 months away, ok. Im just saying that if by any chance there is someone in your life that you wish to bring along I'm more than happy to have them come. The more the merrier." Guilliman added. Guilliman said his goodbyes before hanging up without giving Titus time to respond back. Titus, annoyed, put his phone back into his pocket, not paying attention to the path ahead of him as he did.

"Ouch!" Titus snapped his head towards the noise in front of him. He looked down where he felt something crash into him only to find you sitting on the floor, rubbing your forehead.

"Sorry." He apologized. He put his basket down on the floor before grabbing you by the arm and helping you to your feet.

"No, it's ok. It's on me. I wasn't paying attention." You apologized back. You patted your clothes hoping to clean them from any dirt you might have picked up in your fall.

"Thanks for picking me up, Titus." You smiled up at him, hoping that he didn't misinterpret your apology for sarcasm. Titus looked nervous as he watched you. He looked like he was inspecting you for injuries, not that you would have any, but just to make sure.

"No problem, Y/n."

"So what brings you back to the store, Titus? Anything new you're trying?" You asked wanting to be polite.

"I was told by my dietician to try adding more sugars into my diet. I'm... trying to see what is tolerable enough for me to eat." For someone of his stature, you would have assumed he would be louder but he was soft spoken. Clear and precise, calm but soft. It reminded you of the older gentleman living next door to you who would ask you to help him bring his case of water up if you had the time.

"Do you not like sweet?" You asked.

"I've developed a dislike for overly sweet things so I tend to avoid sugar in general." He explained. In reality, his anxiety made sugar act almost like a trigger. Either he could taste it and it was overwhelming or he'd consume it and it made his anxiety spike. He avoided sugary drinks, sweet treats, and even basic foods that have sweetner in it. The ice cream he had bought was the only thing he could tolerate as it wasn't too sweet and the cold numbed the taste.

"Fruit tends to be the easiest way to get sugar into a diet. It's hard not to enjoy them since there's variety." You explained. This seemed to ease Titus a little. His once furrowed brows eased just a little at the suggestion.

"I will try that." The conversation died from there. While you thought there was nothing more to say, Titus was buzzing with questions of his own. Another conversation with you meant more exposure which meant that his therapist would be proud of his progress and he himself will be proud of his progress.

"What about you?" He asked. He looked at your empty basket before returning his gaze to you.

"Me? Oh, I was seeing what I could get for $20. I don't really have the budget right now to experiment with food."

"What can you possibly get with $20?" He questioned. You thought his question was brash but you chalked it up to shock.

"You'd be surprised. It mainly works if you bargain or use coupons. For the most part, I get the ramen packets or rice." You shrugged.

"So you mainly eat...."

"Poorly? Yeah. When your broke you have to eat whatever, so might as well eat something that's not gross."

"Doesn't it leave you in a nutritional deficit?" Titus was trying to wrap his head around how anyone could possibly live off of this diet. Even the MRE's he would get in his service was better than the food you planned on buying. It sounded horrible and his face must have shown it because you laughed before explaining yourself.

"It does, but again, I dont have the money to buy anything other than the things I really need." You smiled up at him again, the corner of your eyes pinching against your cheeks.

"It was nice talking to you, Titus. Hopefully, next time we see each other you can tell me what fruits you liked." You winked at him teasingly.

"Of course. I will make sure to do so." He nodded. You couldn't help it, but you chuckled at him. He was amusing, to say the least. There was no way he was an actual person. He was too formal, too forward, too honest. You kinda felt bad for being able to know so much about this man when you haven't said enough about yourself.

As you walked away Titus sighed. This had been the longest conversation he had with you. This was good! He wondered if he had said too much or not enough. Maybe it was invasive to ask the questions had asked. It was all said and done but he couldn’t help but worry. He shook his head, he wasn’t going to allow doubt to consume him. Not now, not when he had just gained such a positive thing.

When he made it back home he made sure to go about his usual routine with as much urgency as he could. He double checked his locks, took a shower, put away his groceries, and grabbed his laptop from his desk to bring it over to his bed. He laid there, silently waiting for a call to come in. The ticking of his clock unnerved him as he waited. No matter how many times he had done this it still never stopped being stressful. The waiting, the anticipation ate at him as he counted down the seconds.

*bzzzz* *bzzzzzzz*

Titus clicked on the green answer button that appeared on his laptops screen before readjusting the camera and himself.

“Demetrian, what a pleasure it is to see you once more.” An older man with glasses that looked almost comically round, greeted Titus. He smiled, teeth showing as he waved at the man.

“Dr Galeo, it is good to speak with you again.” Titus greeted back.

“You’re looking well. I hope you’ve been following instructions given to you by your physician?”

“I have. There’s no need to be concern.”

“Good, good. I’m that case, let’s talk about your progress shall we? What have your most recent interactions with other people have been?” Galeo ask.

“Positive. I’ve been meaning to tell you abott it my interactions either Y/n, actually.”

“Do tell, Titus.” Proded Galeo.

It was as if the flood gates had open. Titus talked and talked and talked about you and the conversation you had had with each toner. Every moment, every word, every movement you had made was described in detail as he spoke to his therapist. Be couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, he just needed to talk to someone about his new friend. Galeo didn’t mind his team kings, if anything, this was the whole reason why he enjoyed his weekly check in with Titus.

When Titus had first started therapy he was closed up. He refused to speak or even write down his thoughts or feelings. It was frustrating as it didn’t seem that the man would open up any time soon and Galeo would have to fire him as a client. So when Galeo proposed Titus begin making small interactions with people in his gym, this seemed to spark a reaction. Titus didn’t take recommendations but orders and a life of service made this even more important for how Galeo was going to treat him. So he began giving Titus orders. Do this, do that, you must complete this. This worked even if it felt like it was degrading to do but it gave Galeo space to work with. Titus began reporting back that he would speak to the kind woman in the front desk at his gym if only to say “hello” and “goodbye”. This began to slowly evolve into him speaking to the new security guard at the gym that had approached Titus asking what his workout routine was. Story after story of the security guard became frequent but what threw Galeo off guard was the story about the person Titus had met at the supermarket.

“They spoke to me, again.” Titus said. His voice was in awe, almost as if he couldn’t believe that a basic human interaction could possibly be directed at him. Galeo knew Titus was deeply insecure but to see him genuinely surprised that something so small such as a greeting or acknowledgment would be directed at him made something in Galeo mourn for his patient.

“And they said that they wanted to hear if I liked anything new that I tried.” Titus finished. Galeo smiled and nodded his head in acknowledgment.

“That’s wonderful Titus. You and your friend seem to be making progress."

"They even gave me their name. Y/n."

"See, and here you were worried about rejection. You're making good progress. This is something to celebrate." Galeo encouraged.

"It feels childish to celebrate something so normal but I truly feel like I've progressed in my treatment, Galeo."

"And I see that progress, Titus. In due time, you will see all of these efforts pay off." Galeo comforted him, hoping that his words held some value to the man.

They spent the rest of their session making idle conversation on things Titus could improve on. Galeo hoped that more social interaction could help Titus see that the world wasn't against him. They ended their session with Galeo tasking Titus with trying to extend this connection with you outside of the supermarket. friendship is good for his health and Titus, unfortunately, has lacked those platonic relationships ever since he left the military. Titus agreed with him and even stated that there had been a few people who had reached out to him but he hasn't had the courage to reach back out of discomfort. Galeo reassures him that all in due time, there's no need to rush but there needs to be an attempt to try. With that, Titus ended the call and began preparing an early dinner for himself. He ate his meal in silence as he thought about the events of today. Would you want to be friends with him? Would you feel comfortable spending time with him outside of the occasional bumping into each other in the supermarket? He made sure to clean his dishes and then take a shower before heading to bed. He lay in his bed contemplating the plans for the next day. He had it off, there was nothing for him to do. Maybe he would be kind to himself and explore the city he lived in.

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deleteddewewted · 2 months ago

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Supermarket Romance P5

S: Titus is flying high on your compliments he finds the courage to reach out to an old friend who had been trying to get ahold of him since his discharge. He hopes this old friendship could still be saved even though he’s neglected for so long. In his efforts, he also finds a new confidant in you.

MDNI

W: Vomit, Puking, Nervous breakdown, panic attacks, mild suicidal thoughts, Calgars here now, Titus and Guilliman are friends, You guys start to develop a romance

Taglist: @kingmagnificolover @garlickedbreads @eliferraris @justeverythingnothingelse @absent-still @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lichkingofangmar @hatsubara-8chan @riokunova @sk-3-tch @futtorliya @missmannequin

Previous / Next

Titus sat on his bed with his phone in his hand, only donning his boxers as he had planned to go to bed, Titus watched as the screen lit up with the name of an old friend. Marneus Calgar. He was his superior during his service and they eventually became friends. Calgar was the only person who visited him when he was in recovery in the hospital besides his parents. He would come over and drop off small things like clothes or food that Titus liked, every so often he would read to Titus as an excuse to spend time with him but to also keep him informed of what the chain of command was saying. All of that had been nearly a year ago, and now Titus sat on his bed avoiding one of the many phone calls Calgar had made to him since the day he was discharged from the hospital. The phone continued buzzing before stopping. A notification appeared on his screen reading ‘Missed Call: Marneus Calgar’.

Titus inhaled deeply before letting out a shaky breath. He unlocked his phone and quickly clicked worked his way to his call history. He clicked on Calgars' name, hands trembling as he slowly brought the device up to his ear. The phone rang, and rang, and rang. Finally, the sound of someone picking up the call reached Titus' ear. He waited for a moment, sweat beginning to form on his hands as his body grew cold. The anticipation was killing him. What if he pushed his luck with Calgars patience and he wasn't planning on speaking to him? What if he misunderstood why Calgar had tried reaching out to him? What if this was Calgar telling him what he already knew about himself? That he was a failure, a nuisance, a waste of space, a waste of lif-

"Hello?" Calgars voice rasped through the phone's speaker. His voice was something Titus thought he would have forgotten even after spending the majority of his life being given orders by the man. His voice was a comfort he didn't know he was missing. It brought him back to his earlier years as a young private and back to the time when they would share drinks at a bar after a long assignment in the middle of the desert. Calgar was like a father to him and a friend. He knew he could share his shame and doubts with him and receive feedback that would help him instead of antagonize him.

"General Calgar-" Titus began but he was cut off.

"Demetrian, it’s been so long. It's good to hear your voice." Joy was evident in the older man’s voice, something almost tender was present there too. It had been so long that Titus had forgotten that their relationship had long transcended the use of formalities.

“It’s good to hear your voice as well." Titus paused for a moment. His breathing had begun to change and it was more erratic and deep. "I've been... struggling to accept that I do enjoy speaking to friends.” Titus replied. His hands were shaking violently. He knew there was no danger, Calgar wouldn't pose a danger to him, yet he couldn't seem to find the ability to rationalize his thoughts in the moment.

“Where have you been hiding, Demetrian?” Calgar meant nothing by it, he was merely teasing him, but Titus couldn't help the guilt that washed over him.

“I’ve been home mostly or attending physiotherapy.” He replied meagerly.

“That’s good….” The conversation paused for a moment. Titus' anxiety made him want to fill the silence but he was stopped by Calgar filling it for him.

“Demetrian, I hope you know you can speak to me.” Titus choked on his breath. He hadn’t noticed just how much he had been shaking or that he was feeling light-headed. The room around him felt overly hot and it began to spin.

“I know civilian life can be hard after a life of service. I’ve seen it before, you’re not alone. But just know that even, after everything, I am here.” The words left unspoken hung in the air but Titus understood just fine what his once superior was conveying. “I am here for you”. It made him feel sick, and he couldn’t help it but he vomited into the trash bin next to his bed that was already prepared in case something like this happened. He retched into the trash can seeking relief from the tight and painful bile that forced itself from his stomach into his throat. Tears that once pricked his eyes now flowed with abandon as he relieved himself of the contents of his stomach.

Calgar stayed on the line, waiting silently as Titus let his body wreak havoc on itself. Titus composes himself and finds the time to breathe between wrenching. He coughs whatever is left in his mouth and grabs one of the bottles of water he had by his nightstand to wash his mouth with. He spits the dirty water into the can and picks up the dropped phone from the floor.

"Im sorry-"

"Dont be, Demetrian." Calgar comforted. "Would you like me to stay on the phone with you?" He offered. Titus thought about it for a moment, asking himself if there was truly anything he could do to embarrass himself furhter.

"Please." Titus pleaded. He got under his blankets and kept the phone by his ear. He began asking Calgar questions about his day, asking if there was any news he could share with Titus. Calgar spoke to him for hours until Titus fell asleep to the sound of his friend's voice. Calgar, not wanting to break his promise, left the call running as he also succumbed to sleep.

Titus awoke the next morning to his alarm. He turned it off, searching for his phone in the process. He looked at his phone log and saw that his call with Calgar lasted 7 hours. He didn’t even remember when he had fallen asleep in their conversation, but he appreciated the older man for staying with him. He sent his former superior a message saying the same and got ready for the day ahead of him. He took out the soiled trash bag and threw it into the bin outside hoping that no one else was awake to see him walk outside in just his boxers.

He showered, brushed his teeth, shaved, and made sure to make a note to get a haircut sometime this week, before heading out to his car in a suit he had been dreading having to wear. The suit pants leg snagged on his leg brace making walking uncomfortable and annoying. He had a "meeting" that Guilliman had personally asked him to attend. The man had also bought him the suit he was wearing as Titus found them unnecessary to own. Titus buttoned up the jacket but he struggled to get the tie correctly knotted. He left it hanging to the sides of his neck instead, he would find someone in the office to help him out. For the time being, he needed to get something to eat before the meeting. He drove to the supermarket and grabbed the closest-to-go sandwich he could find and a bottle of orange juice before making it to the self-checkout lane. He swiped his items with haste and pulled out his wallet to pay but as he did he saw you entering the store. He wanted to walk over to say hello but he didn't have the time. He walked over to the entrance, leg brace snagging in the inside of his pants causing them to get stuck in the hinge.

"What the fuck." Titus murmured under his breath. He tried lifting his pants legs, hoping that the fabric would loosen itself or at least move from the hinge it was stuck on. He tugged until he felt the fabric pop out from where it was stuck and patted his leg to readjust the pants leg.

"Titus?" He turned his head, and his scowl eased as he spotted you walking towards him.

"Y/n, it's good to see you." He felt his ears grow hot as you approached him.

He didn't notice but you were ogling him, taking in his attire, his neatness. You never expected to see him in a suit, with the buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and tie undone. It was charming in a way.

"Is your leg causing you problems?" You asked. You had managed to catch him as he was adjusting his pants leg and only heard some of his frustrated muttering.

"No- not exactly. It's my leg brace..." His voice faded out. It was something he didn't want to admit but what else was he supposed to say?

"Ah, that makes sense. You might want to get a compression sleeve for your leg or size up your pants. That should help stop your pants from getting caught on your brace." You recommended.

"How do you know it will work?" He questioned. Maybe he had missed it but you didn't look like you were in need of an aid like a brace. Yet again, he also didn't look like he needed physical aids, and yet here he was needing them.

"College roommate broke her leg after a hike. She had to wear a cast and then a brace for a while. Let me tell you, I know a thing or two about assistive medical equipment." You chuckled, hoping to ease the concern on his face.

"Any other recommendations you might have?" He joked.

"You should tie your tie so it doesn't fall off your neck and maybe button your shirt so you don't catch a cold?" You joked, a smirk present on your face as you pointed at the offending items.

"I wish I knew how to tie a tie but unfortunately I do not." He admitted, embarrassed.

"I can help you."

"Really?" He said surprised.

"Of course, Titus." You said softly. "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't help you?" You closed the distance and buttoned his shirt for him before grabbing the two ends of his tie. You began going through the motions, a cross, a loop, another loop on top. You worked with care as you didn't want to touch him by accident and make him uncomfortable. Your eyes, ever strained on the tie in your hands wandered to look at where his shirt had been unbuttoned. You had caught a glimpse of his bare chest. He was hairless, but you also took notice of what looked like a big scar running down his chest and fainter ones circling his neck. You wanted to ask, see what insane story this man had but you didn’t. What if he found the question offensive? What if it was too painful to ask? You didn't blame him for being so secretive, after all, you’ve been the same way with him.

You hadn't noticed but Titus was staring back at you. His eyes took in the small details he hadn’t taken in before. Your eyes were concentrated, those pretty dots of color following the tie you so neatly made. Your mouth was a little chapped and you were biting on your bottom lip almost toying with it as you focused. The shape do your nose to the way your hands seemed to tremble a little as you tried being gentle with the fabric in your hands. You were a vision he hoped to witness again at this distance.

“There. That should do it.” You pushed the knot of his tie up, your hand reaching and pressing against his neck. He was warm and the skin was rough from his stubble that he hadn’t fully shaven off in the crook of his neck. You smiled up at him, and patted him on the chest before stepping back to admire your work.

“Now you won't cause offense.” You jest. Titus let out a low chuckle, rolling his eyes at you before thanking you.

“I’m forever in your debt, Y/n.”

“Don’t be silly, old man.” You teased. He smiled again, this time it was something softer.

“Truly, thank you. I will see you around.” He thanked before heading over to his car.

“Wait!” You you yelled.

“Uh… if you’re not uncomfortable, we can share our phone numbers with each other?” You asked. You pulled out your phone from your pocket and handed it over to Titus. He hesitated for a moment. You wanted to create a bond outside of the supermarket.

“That would be a great idea.” He responded back. He gingerly typed his number in, his fingers too large for your phones screen. He handed it back, his hands sweaty and heart beating rapidly in his chest.

“Sorry, my hands are-“

“Don’t worry about it, Titus. My palms get sweaty too.” You reassured. You gave him a smile and reached out towards him with a cautious hand. He tensed a little, wondering what you were going to do. You grabbed his tie and readjusted it before letting it go again.

“There we go.” He swears his face was red again. The heat in his cheeks and ears must have made him look like a tomato.

“Thank you, Y/n. Message me if you have the time.”

“I’ll make sure to text you when I get home. You better text me back.” You threatened.

“Of course. I promise I will.” He nodded his head at you, a smile overtaking his face before he walked away towards his car. You could hear him from a distance complaining about his leg brace again. You shook your head in amusement. For someone his stature he sure was sillier than what you expected him to be.

You looked down at your phone, his number was now in your contacts with the name 'Demetrian Titus' attached to it. You clicked on the edit button and added an emoji of a blueberry in front of his name. A fitting descriptor for a man with the nicest set of blue eyes you've seen.

The drive to the office wasn't long but it was hecktech, to say the least. Guilliman had texted him asking him if he was planning on drinking and that if he hadn't initially, he should. Guilliman has bought as much champagne and artisanal beer as he could get his hands on cause he himself couldn’t find the will to do the meeting sober. The CEO had decided to do a last minute drop in, all under the gaze of wanting to ensure things were going to be done correctly and no one was planning on doing something dangerous like the last time there was a meeting like this. Last time, according to one of the graphic designers, two of Guilliman's brothers, Dorn and Perturabo, had gotten into an argument about the food caterer that the other had selected. While Dorn had chosen something pescatarian, Perturabo had decided to go with something vegetarian, both selected an array of different meals so that there would be variety to choose from. Dorn, having had the foresight to know some people would for go eating if there wasn’t anything with red meat, decided to also order some meat-based meals. Perturabo had grown upset to find out his brother had gotten another caterer and he decided to sabotage him by demonstrating one of his side projects so that people would pay attention to him instead of his brother's considerate meal planning. To say that the night went without a hitch would be a lie as Perturabo's side project had malfunctioned and a gear had gone flying out only to hit someone in the eye. The person was fine but it was the last time the CEO would allow anyone to bring in their hobby projects to the office and the last time he’d have Perturabo and Dorn host these informal meetings together.

Once Titus arrived, Guilliman had already been drinking the moment he had managed to find the bottle opener in the office breakroom. He handed Titus a bottle the moment the older man had stepped foot into the conference room and asked him to drink with him. Titus declined as he was driving but did accept to take the bottle home instead.

“Good man!” Guilliman praised him, handing him the bottle of what Titus could only describe as overpriced champagne. For the rest of the meeting, Titus anxiously tapped his foot as he waited for your text to come through. Maybe you had forgotten or didn’t feel like sending one in the end? Who knew. He hoped that you hadn’t told him you would text him since it became the only thing he could think about while he sat at a table with his drunk and enthusiastic coworkers.

The night ended with one of the younger office workers throwing up in Guilliman's favorite potted plant. Everyone was laughing and smiling, the mood was up all things considered even though no actual work was done. Guilliman had untied his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He was leaning on Titus, his hand on his shoulder as he used the older man as a support as they walked outside of the building and towards the parking lot.

“You know, you’re a good, hck, employee Titusssss. I’m glad you took my offer.” Guilliman slurred and hiccupped his words. His forehead was against Titus' shoulder, his eyes closed as he begged the world to stop spinning.

“I’m glad I did too. But, was it necessary to drink so much?” Titus questioned. Guilliman raised his head and was about to reprimand Titus but he stumbled forward, falling towards the ground but was stopped by Titus grabbing him.

“Of course it was!” Guilliman chirped. “It’s the only time I get to get drunk with my friend.” He hiccuped.

“Friends?” Titus questioned. His eyebrow was raised as he looked at the slumped man.

“Yes, friends. I don’t get to have much of a social life outside of work and I think of you all as my friends, even if it’s one-sided.” The truth that he had just revealed depressed Titus. Guilliman was well-liked in the military, so much so that many of the privates, sergeants, and lieutenants sought him out for advice. Calgar even sang his praises to Guilliman. So how could someone like that lack friendship?

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Guilliman.” Titus spoke back. Guilliman didn’t respond, soft snores answered in his stead.

"I can take it from here, Demetrian." A voice spoke from behind them. Titus turned to see who it was. Behind him, a man with long black hair that draped over his shoulders. His eyes possessed an air of unmatched authority it had Titus wanting to look away. This man possessed a stature of greatness that was only rivaled by how he conducted himself even at his 6’10 stature. Guillimans father, the CEO, was a man he didn’t usually speak with. Having only once had the pleasure of conversing with him, Titus had felt that conversation had been enough to last him a life time. Imposing was one way to describe the experience of speaking to the man. It wasn’t something the man had done, it was merely the fact that Titus couldn’t decipher the man’s expression or emotions. This version of the man was different. He smiled down at Titus and at his slouched over son. The man got closer, his eyes not leaving Titus as he approached his son.

“Thank you for taking care of my son, Demetrian.” The man bowed his head at Titus and took Guilliman from Titus’ arms. He hoisted Guilliman by his arm, throwing one of them over his shoulder and placing his own hand by his son’s waist to support him.

“You are a good man, Demetrian. I will remember this act of kindness.” With that, the man took Guilliman to his car and placed him in the back seat so he could lay down. For a moment, Titus thought of his superior as a child being put to bed by his father. Oddly endearing.

As he walked over to his car, Titus’ phone rang. He pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at the screen. A message from you, “Sorry for getting sidetracked. I’m finally home! Hope you are too!”. His face began to grow hot. You didn’t mean to not text, you were simply busy. Something fluttered in his stomach as he thought about what he should text back. Maybe he should wait and text you when he got home? Maybe he should text now so you also don't assume he read your message and didn't care to answer it.

He texted back once he was sitting in his car, "Hello, Im glad to hear you got home safely. I was just about to head home myself." he wrote. He buckled his seatbelt and started his car but before he could pull out he got another text from you.

"Awesome! Get home safe. Goodnight, Titus." A soft smile made itself home onto his face. He hadn't had someone text him in this manner in so long. Guillimans messages were straight to the point and while Chairons held pleasantries his were also as forward as Guillimans.

He bag a the quiet drive him. Roads, trees pass him by has he focuses on the road ahead of him. Empty streets with their houses lights turned off, not a soul outside as he made it to his apartment and complex and parked into his garage. He groaned as he got of his car, his back and leg aching after spending the day sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chairs the office offered. He unlocked his door before closing shut again once inside. Taking off shoes and proceeding to walk towards his bathroom, he began to undress himself from his restrictive clothes. Everything from the tie to his underwear went into the hamper, not a care in the world for the over priced article of clothing, and stepped into his shower. Warm water and soap lathered his body, his nails slowly rubbing against his skin to clean off what he felt were impurities. He grabbed his loofa and began scrubbing the rest of his body only to stop when he reached the big and jagged scar on his chest and torso. He traced it with the tip of his fingers contemplating how it got there. Dark thoughts began to cloud his mind as he stood under the shower head letting the water wash over.

He spent his night between panic attacks or anxiously staring at his front door. Fears of someone or something bursting flooded his mind and wouldn’t let him relax. He wanted the feeling to stop but it wouldn’t. The persistent fear only grew as the hours passed him, but by the time he felt semi-functional it was already early morning and he could hear some of the neighbors outside greeting each other before leaving for work. His senses were all focused on the wooden door, he was staring at it like it had caused him offense. The emptiness of his home allowed for the ring of his phone to snap him from his trance. It was a message from you: “Good morning, Titus! I hope your day started better than mine. I locked myself out of my house lol.” He couldn’t help it but he let out a laugh. His eyes bloodshot and tired read and reread your words searching for something malignant in them.

'My landlord won't answer my calls so im screwed.' You sent another message before he could reply. Titus gave himself a moment to think about his response his fingers slowly typing out the message he wanted to send.

“Good morning. That sounds horrible, hopefully, you get a reply back. If you’re not too busy, I wanted to ask if you wouldn’t mind helping me look for those compression sleeves you had mentioned.”

“No problem! My landlord said he wasn’t going to be around until 4pm so I have time. Let’s meet up at the supermarket at 12pm?” You were quick to respond to his message and it made the fluttering feeling come back.

“I will see you at 12.” He replied back. He leaned back, laying flat on his bed, his phone still in his hands as he stared into the white abyss that was his ceiling. You two were going to meet at the store in a few hours. Per his suggestion. He asked you to meet him. That fluttering feeling came back again, this time tenfold. He was going to get to see you and you were just as excited to see him too.

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