#technically a taste since I probably won't fully post it until it's entirely done

[inkrabbit]

It's the End That You Prayed For - Chapter 1

The city of Stockholm had always been beautiful, living up to it's reputation of being “one of the most beautiful capital cities in Europe.” The colorful architecture coupled with the cobblestone roads and open water had given the city a wonderland ambiance to it. Its style is something they show in movies to sell a magical feel or to push a budding romance. Shops, museums, and countless hotels line the streets of every small island in the city, along with an abundance of parks. It's no surprise that so many tourists from around the world visit Stockholm, their eyes always wandering and never seeming to look at the poor citizen they're about to bump into. It was always the same, a half-assed apology, typically in shoddy Swedish that they most likely had memorized from Google translate. Then they would go on to say how beautiful the city was and they just weren't paying attention to where they were going. If Mary had a krona for every time something like that happened, they'd be richer than their parents.

Stockholm was beautiful, yes, and Mary wouldn't trade it for the world. But the tourists were starting to wear them down. In the beginning, he tried to be nice, biting his tongue and saying that he understood the fascination when it came to the city. But after years of the same thing happening over and over again, it became tiring. What's worse is that these same tourists would somehow stumble into the exact same bar Mary was working at and waste their time by opening up with their whole life story before ordering a simple cocktail or some beer. It got even worse when the patrons would overstay their welcome, drunkenly calling out to Mary and his usual co-worker, DD, in poor attempts at speaking Swedish. It almost became a routine and Mary was genuinely surprised they hadn't gotten fired yet for firing off at some of the patrons. If it hadn't been for DD's never-ending patience and offering to take care of the more rowdy patrons, Mary's sure they would've snapped long ago. Most nights, he would go home and just flop down on the couch, groan or yell loudly into a pillow before turning on a movie or some music to fill the silence of their apartment.

Unlike the outside of the building, Mary's apartment was anything but colorful. Owning the unit meant that Mary could change everything to their liking and they took full advantage of that. The once blinding white walls were painted a dark red, black wood cutting through half of the walls. Much easier on the eyes, and he even changed the doors to be black. The brick wall that was opposite the front door, encasing a glass window that led to the kitchen had been painted over, the once red and orange brick now being a solid black, another way to contrast against the white frame of the windows. Around the walls were paintings Mary had done and genuinely liked, enough so that they were willing to hang them up. They also owned four different animal skulls and had carefully hung them up on the brick wall, spaced evenly above the red string lights he had also gotten for a soft light source whenever actual lights would've deemed themselves too bright for his eyes. Even in the small bathroom that was placed underneath the loft, Mary had painted the walls black and used matching tile to line the bottom half of the walls. In the beginning, they had left it the off-white color, but after being blinded too man times during their drunken haze, Mary had enough.

Everything had been set up to Mary's liking as well. His easel was placed right next to the large windows and to the right of the TV, a semi-comfortable stool sitting right in front of it. It was something Mary had considered moving several times, since they had a nasty habit of glancing over at the movie playing on the screen, only to get sucked into whatever story was playing and they'd neglect the painting they were working on for almost five hours straight. But next to the easel had been Mary's couch, a plush black and gold sofa that occasionally acted as Mary's second bed, complete with a pillow and blanket. The nights where they couldn't pull themselves away from the canvas until early morning were also the times they would grab the black blanket crumbled up towards the edge and curl up on a part of the couch, always being too exhausted to trudge up the stairs to his actual bed.

There were, on the odd occasion where Mary just couldn't sleep, nights that they would just stay awake. Somewhere, deep in their mind, a certain dread would kick in; something their medication couldn't touch or take away. The deep-rooted fear that, should they fall asleep, something awful would happen, and Mary needed to stay awake in order to make sure he wouldn't be caught off-guard. On nights like these, Salem would immediately come out of hiding and trot on over to Mary, pawing at his pant leg until successfully catching his attention before letting out a series of loud meows to be pet.

Salem was another one that kept them sane. After moving to Stockholm, Mary had passed by an animal shelter. There, sitting in the window and staring at them with big, amber eyes was a black cat, headbutting the glass. It was enough to get Mary to stop and, after playing with him through the window, go inside the shelter. The workers told Mary that Salem was a stray an elderly couple had found, huddled inside their car's engine and freezing in the snow. How could he leave him there? Mary adopted Salem and a couple days later, the cat was running around Mary's apartment, settling in comfortably and being treated like a king in the apartment.

Even now, as Mary laid in bed, cuddled up under the comforter, Salem had jumped up and began to paw at the Swede's nose, a series of purrs reverberating throughout his body. While Salem's bowl stayed filled thanks to an automatic feeder, the self-proclaimed king still wanted everything to run on his schedule, and 8 a.m with the sun out meant that it was time to go on a walk. Mary had themselves to blame, really. Hating the idea of keeping Salem trapped in the apartment forever but also being wary of letting him roam free had led to Mary purchasing a cat harness and getting Salem comfortable enough to walk with it on. Exploring Stockholm became part of Salem's morning routine, providing it wasn't raining or too cold for both of them. And today was no exception. So when Mary had swatted his paw away in their sleep, Salem resorted to more drastic measures.

Stooping his head down, Salem nipped at the tip of Mary's nose, his sharp teeth being enough for the Swede to inhale sharply and jerk his head back. Bloodshot green eyes opened as Mary rubbed at his nose, blinking the sleep away.

“Salem...” they groan softly, reaching out to gently pet the cat. “I was sleeping, buddy.”

A soft meow is tossed their way as Salem triumphantly hops off the bed, staring up expectantly at Mary again. Now that they were awake more, it was clear what Salem wanted.

“Okay, okay. Give me a bit.” Mary lets out a yawn, stretching his lithe arms above his head. Something pops softly in their lower back, a sigh of relief escaping through their nose. Probably some leftover tension from their shift the night prior. Those doubles were going to be the death of him. At least the alcohol had made up for the shitty patrons. But another loud and obnoxious meow from Salem has Mary finally pushing the covers back and swinging their legs over the edge of the bed, standing up for another round of stretching. Running their hand through their messy hair, Mary followed Salem down the black stairs, snatching an old band shirt on the way down. It smelled clean enough when he threw it on, or so Mary had hoped.

By the front door, Mary grabbed the harness and leash, slipping it onto Salem and locking everything into place. With the snow they had seen laying on the ground outside, Mary was positive it wouldn't be long until Salem was crying to get up onto his shoulder. That's how their walks always went; Salem would get tired or he would hate his paws getting wet from the snow, so he would put his front paws on Mary's leg and scream up at them until Mary finally knelt down and let Salem jump up onto their shoulder. But the walk wouldn't end there. Mary needed to complete the route or Salem would throw a fit, meowing loudly and even batting at Mary's head with his paw. As annoying as it could be sometimes, Mary wouldn't trade him for the world.

Snatching up his leather jacket and slipping on his old shoes, Mary followed Salem out of the apartment, locking the door behind them. It's cold, even in the silent hall, a shiver running up Mary's spine as he follows Salem towards the stairs. Salem never liked the elevator so taking the stairs was all they could do. Their footsteps echoed throughout the stairwell, Mary always letting out a soft “I'm coming” whenever Salem would stop to look back up at them.

The second the door to the lobby opened, cold air hit Mary in the face, his features automatically scrunching up. This is something he would've loved to avoid this morning, but Salem's needs were obviously more important. So making a sharp right onto the cobblestone sidewalk, Mary walked down Dalagatan with Salem trotting in front of them. The church that neighbored the apartment building loomed beside them as they walked past. Ironic, Mary had always thought, that they would buy an apartment next to the one thing they tried to avoid for nearly twenty years. They continue along the street, casting a glance to the large, ornate wooden doors that greeted citizens, a little welcome board in front of the church. The ringing bell was easily heard from the apartment, and Mary lost count of the times they'd be focusing on a painting, only to jump when the bell went off. That damn thing had ruined a couple of his paintings.

Mary shakes their head as they continue down the street, frequently glancing down at Salem. His tail is high in the air and slightly curled, giving the impression of a question mark. At least he was happy. That's all that mattered. He continued down the street with him, giving a half-smile to the people that greeted him or even stopped to coo at Salem. One lady had asked Mary how they got Salem on a leash and they simply told her that with enough patience and treats, Salem had gotten used to the harness pretty quickly. Being a stray cat in the beginning had helped any initial wariness an indoor cat might've had.

And just like clockwork, Salem finally stopped his trotting, turning to face Mary as he let out a loud, continuous meow. A paw went up, the black fur around his black paw pads wet and stuck together as Salem gave it a quick, irritated shake. Lowering to one knee, Mary allowed the cat to climb up onto his shoulder, wet paw prints showing up on his black sweats as Salem used his leg as a sort of stair. When comfortably situated onto their shoulders, Mary slowly stood up, still clutching the leash as their hands slipped into their pockets. Just like every other walk, Salem riding on Mary's shoulders got them a lot more stares, and Mary had even seen a few phones pointed at them, no doubt taking pictures or videos. Though it didn't bother them, there was a feeling, deep down, that hated the attention. Being on stage was one thing. Getting pictures with fans was one thing. But being photographed and videoed while just walking with his cat? A part of him hated it.

They continued down Vanadisvägen, turning onto Upplandsgatan and continuing to walk. The colored buildings towered over them, shop windows advertising the stores in both English and Swedish. Mary's dipped into some of these shops before, even accompanying an old friend inside Piercing Monroe a couple times. A simple septum and lip piercing but their friend had been nervous to go alone and asked Mary to tag along. Why not? He wasn't scheduled for work and he wasn't doing anything else. Mary even looked around at the jewelry they had. Fake, sure, but it was all interesting. If they thought they'd look good with a piercing, they probably would've gotten one. But the worry of it looking stupid coupled with having to care for a piercing had been enough for him to decide against it.

Turning down Frejgatan, Mary catches sight of themselves in one of the empty shop windows, their reflections staring back at them. Mary grins, catching Salem's attention and pointing to the window.

“Look! It's you!” they tell him happily, speaking a few decibels higher. Salem leans closer a bit, getting a better look at their reflections. Without warning, Salem's fur stands on end as he lets out a hiss, surprising Mary.

“It's your reflection, you idiot!” Mary tells him, but Salem's already moved on to growling and yowling. Sharp claws dig into the leather of his jacket and Mary lets out a soft huff, quickly moving away from the shop's window and continuing towards home. Salem still seems to be on edge, letting out a final hiss as he looks behind them. Mary just reaches a hand up, gently petting him and trying to calm him down. It took a few seconds before Salem finally started to lean into his touch, a soft purr kicking up.

By the time they got back to the apartment, Mary's arm had gone numb, having stayed up in the air to continuously pet Salem, smoothing down his fur. Even after the growling and hissing had subsided, the cat would throw a fit if Mary stopped petting him. But now that they were home, Salem was finally leaping down from Mary's shoulder and sitting pretty at their feet, looking up patiently as Mary knelt down to remove his harness. Once it was off, Salem turned and trotted off throughout the apartment.

Mary slipped out of his jacket, hanging it back up by the door and going to the couch, flopping down on it. Kicking off their shoes, Mary, laid their head against the pillow, turning on the TV. The horror movie channel flicked on, some shitty movie playing. He doesn't even care what it is, keeping the volume low. They curl up on the couch, tucking their hands underneath their head and closing their eyes. They still had a few hours before their shift started at the bar. They were going to take full advantage of this time and get some much-needed rest that Salem had so rudely interrupted when he demanded to go on his morning walk.