Prosaic Days Off

It was the hottest summer Saffron had ever experienced, and he had experienced a lot of summers, thank you very much. This rivaled that of the day he emerged from the Earth’s crust through the violent tremors of a volcano eruption. He was molded from the magma and stones of the fiery wreckage. However, that was ages ago.

Today was a Tuesday and it had been some time after the incredibly violent fight him and Asher had, almost a year ago. They both said things they did not mean and even broke up for almost six months. In those months, Saffron found himself in his work, playing his piano tirelessly. Asher did the same thing; the proof was evident with the amount of fabric and thread that had accumulated in his office.

Asher had his back to Saffron. Pastel pink hair lay loosely along his shoulders, and his tanned skin freckles from sun exposure. Saffron caught himself admiring the shafts of hair that seemed to always find themselves in his face, the way his hands diligently worked at scrubbing the flatware. Trying to distract himself, Saffron reached for the broom and started sweeping the kitchen.

“So, you always wanted to be a designer?” Saffron spoke up, filling the silence.

“Yes, and no.” Asher responded after a few moments. “It started out with the love of owning several styles of clothing and morphed into a wanting to design my own, when I couldn’t find what I was looking for. I took an elective when I went to school online called art history, and there was a section on clothing, and I just knew that it was up my alley. I haven’t really started to pursue it until now.” He had stopped his washing, suds still littering his wrists and hands. Saffrons knees got weak, as his stomach churned at the attention from the male. Despite having known him for three years now, he still felt like a lovesick schoolboy. “Was there anything you did before you were a pianist?”

“Oh, loads. I was a meater-” He stopped himself for a minute, and then explained, “Which means I was a coward, anyways, before making a name for myself in France, I figured out Iwas really good at working with my hands. So I worked in textiles, where we produced clothes, rugs and what have you, using handlooms.” He could recall the motion with his hands. The tugging, the roughness of the cloth as it was sewn. It was not just the sweltering heat and the numbing cold winters of working in those factories that sometimes kept him up at night.

“You know, it’s kind of hard to imagine you doing so much hard labor,” Ash had resumed his cleaning, the common noises of dishes clanking and rushing water followed his words.

“Oh, just wait.” Saffron chuckled, grabbing the dustpan and throwing away the debris that had accumulated on the floor. “Then I was a farmer for a while. Vampiri such as you and me, we need a lot of Iron in our diets, so we found jobs easily on farms. Our kind were always good with the Earth, and we tended the fields at night for the most part to avoid the sun. So, most of the farms I worked on grew iron rich crops. That is where the disconnect of stereotypes seems to appear because Vampiri have mostly plant-based diets.”

Saffron walked over and stood beside the smaller male, helping him wash the soapy dishes. “Anyways, after that I got into construction. I did this for almost fifty years; back then we mostly made boats and then the age of the railroads came.” He continued, recalling the pound of the hammer and the aching of his fingers.

“Blimey,” Asher winced at his words.

“Yeah, then I found an old piano that did not work for the most part and learned to play on it. Using what I had learned throughout those hundred years, I was able to repair it enough. Then I learned and got so popular I played for royalty. I owe you a lot for that, you know.” Finishing with that, he noticed the glowing in Asher's cheeks as he smiled. Ash had been told several times about the dreams Saffron had. Chasing down the pink haired love of his life and stumbling into music and a tenacity for life.

The buzzer for the dryer was heard as Saffron leaned over and kissed the male’s cheek. Asher swatted him away, chuckling while finishing the last of the dishes. Walking through the home made him feel nostalgic. Recalling the things that had gone on in the past years.

After entering the basement Saf loaded a laundry basket, then walked up the stairs back into the kitchen. Asher was drying his hands with a bright pink kitchen towel.

“Have I ever told you that I built my house by hand?” Saffron said, setting the basket down on the floor and sat at the dining room table.

“You did?” Asher's mouth was agape, his eyes wide with wonder.

“Used my daddles, I sure did. I had started my career as a pianist, I was invited to all the butter up bacon events-” Saffron started to say, while pulling clothes from the basket and was rudely interrupted.

“Woah , woah, butter up bacon? Daddles?” Asher's voice raised in a cacophony of confusion. The male walked over and sat beside him, helping Saffron fold.

“My apologies. Daddles means my rather unextraordinary hands and the former means really fancy. Anyways, pay attention. Now, I had all that a famous man such as myself had except a fancy house of my own to throw parties in.” he made sure to show his flourish by using exaggerated hand movements as he paused his folding.

“You did it all by yourself?”

“Well… No, but it was just me and two others. It took forever and I got the morbs halfway into it. Which means extremely miserable, mind you. Anyways, after it was built, I was so proud of myself, because I had designed and built it from my own brain. Of course, I did ask someone to help me with the specifics. About twenty years later, I set it on fire.”

“You did what!?” Asher's voice went up three octaves, the shirt in his hands instantly on the floor. His eyes were as round as the moon and his mouth agape.

“Yeah," Saffron chuckled. "And that's when we realized that balloon framing was a fire hazard, so we took it apart and fixed it up to what you see now. We added an extra bath and two additional rooms, plus the basement since there was only a small crawl space destined for mold and despair.”

After finishing the laundry, they both put on sun hats and made their way outside where the fiery orb glistened like a jewel in the sky above.

“It’s so bloody hot,” Asher complained, wiping accumulated sweat from his brow.

They had been outside for only fifteen minutes, and Saffron was only starting to perspire. The hedges in front of the house needed trimming, so instead of paying professionals, they had decided to do it themselves. A stranger walking on the sidewalk approached not too far off, Saffron felt his ears prick but he did not look up. The clank of a leash sounded and suddenly Asher was gone, approaching the lady.

“Oh, what a cute dog!" He exclaimed, carefully approaching. "Can I?" He asked the lady.

She nodded, "Thank you,”

After a minute he had come back over to Saffron. He was grinning like a child and Saffron felt his heart flutter for his mate. After several moments of silence, Asher spoke.

“You know, I had a dog once. My parents were gone a lot when I was just a lad, my dad worked an hour away and mum had so many clients she was gone often. So, It was just me and Comet, he was always chuffed to see me.”

“Chuffed?”

“Excited,” Asher grinned.

“Ah. What happened to Comet?” Saffron asked, genuinely interested.

“He just got old, ya know? I was a cheeky lad, according to mum, so I cried a lot. My dad told me that real men didn’t cry, so I was taught to bottle it up after that. That’s how I kept it for a long while. When we first met, I was incredibly bad off. Two Jobs, going to school and I had no regard for selfcare.” Asher trailed off, growing increasingly quiet.

“Sadly, I remember. Do you miss having a dog?” Saffron asked gently.

“Well… It took almost fifteen years for me to realize that I wasn’t treating myself right. Hell, it took a prat like you leaving to make me realize just how bad I was treating myself. Though, I do miss having a dog. I was less alone, then. I think if I were in the state I used to be, there would be no way I would be able to provide the care that a dog would need." He looked intently at a shrub, as if in deep thought.

“It seems we both had a bit of growing to do,” Saffron alluded. “We should celebrate,”

“Celebrate what?”

“Growing.”

“Maybe.” Asher smiled at the thought.

After about an hour the two could not stand being outside any longer. The sun had toasted them up so bad they ran inside longing for the cool confines of their home. After a bit, they went onto their next and last task for the day.

“I made a list of the groceries we need.” Asher walked into the living room where Saffron was on the brink of sleep.

Without opening his eyes, Saf responded. “You know what would make me mad as hops?" He took a beat, building suspense. “Doritos.”

Asher squinted at him. “This is incredibly important, what kind and what does that mean?”

“Happy and Cool Ranch.”

“Okay- we must break up, you sod.” It only took a moment before the male had caved. “Okay, I’m kidding, we will get Cool Ranch and Nacho cheese.” Asher laughed, scribbling on the paper.

“Ash- I was thinking-” Opening his eyes, Saffron sat up.

“I know, I added that wine you really like to the list.” Asher had turned away from Saffron grabbing his purse.

“No, well yes thank you I just finished that last bottle yesterday, but that’s not the point Ash?” Saffron stood up, approaching the pastel beauty of his.

“Mhm?” Asher said, ambiently fingering through the small purse making sure that it held everything. After the long pause from Saffron, he turned only to find that Saffron was on one knee. “What are you-”

Saffron didn't let him finish. “Will you get a dog with me?”

The males’ eyes filled with tears as he clasped his painted nails around his mouth. "Saf- I…" Asher wiped a tear, but instead of responding he grabbed a pillow from the nearby couch and proceeded to nail Saffron in the face with it. "Don’t scare me like that! I thought you were-" Asher’s face brightened with a shade of red as he swatted away those thoughts. “Yes, I’d love to.”

So, the two continued their day of mundane work. Going to the local grocery store, supplying themselves with the food and things they researched beforehand on what to get for a dog.

The next morning, they went to the rescue shelter, ready to take on the world. The receptionist was delighted to find people wanting to adopt and showed the two males to the back where all the dogs were. The atmosphere was ripe with barking and the clanking of kennels.

Saffron’s mate was up to the fence saying hello to every dog they passed. Saffron sat back, hands in his pockets as they walked admiring each of the pups they passed.

“I love them all,” Asher squealed, and Saffron smiled at him.

A long time passed before Asher finally got on his knees, his hands over his mouth as he approached the kennel of a dog who was sitting and vigorously wagging its tail. She had a wiry brown, gray coat, with a perky brown nose, with fuzzy eyebrows and a beard. Her mouth was open, and her tongue lolled out as she pawed at the fence, tail end wagging so hard it was practically off the floor.

“Her.” Asher pointed; his eyes filled with tears. Saffron smiled approaching the door where the dog stood, to press her nose against the metal keeping her in.

“Her name?”

“Uh… What about Rhapsody?” Asher said after a moment, in thought.

Saffron surveyed the mutt, her dark eyes looking at them both, and her exceeding excitableness that just reminded him of his music after he found Asher. Inspired by music, the dark night-like orbs and monotone fur he clicked his tongue and placed a hand on Ash’s shoulder. “Nocturne.”

A sound escaped Asher’s mouth, his hand wrapping around the thin metal of the kennel. “Nocturne,” he said lovingly at the dog. “Yes, that’s it.”

Saffron leaned down kissing Ash’s soft hair, “Let’s take her home then.”