Page 40 of Urban Decay
“What’s your real name? The one you were given when you were born as a human baby?” he asked me once the door closed behind me.
“Laurent.”
“I like that. It suits you.”
“Thanks. I like tweed and flat caps,” I blurted out.
He raised his eyebrows at me. “Okay, that came out of nowhere, but I think I see the connection. You’re Laurent, you were the age you resemble somewhere around 1920, and you prefer to wear the tweed and flat caps of your time?”
“Yes.”
“Guess tomorrow, we’re going shopping, then. We are going to be us, not whatever persons they want us to be. Get me?”
I nodded.
“Good. Now, it seems to me they are even more fucked up than they have to be, so that’s why Arrakus decided to have us straighten them out.”
Yessss. Beeelovveeedd.
“He says you’re right. That, among other things,” I replied, thinking back to the man on that long ago shore.
“Mmhmm. So, we’ll sort out all the little things like clothes that say who feel we are, to wear about when we don’t need to dress a certain other way. And in return, we become part of this Family, of this city.”
Part of the city, with its urban decay. It was fitting, as was his observation of regeneration.
“We’ve got this,” I said, agreeing. I would do anything, as long as we remained together.
“We do, now come get in this bed with me. I’m frazzled from dealing with all this shit.”
I disrobed, not bothering to grab a pair of undies from the drawer. Pulling him to me, I spooned against him. The mental strain having exhausted him mentally, he soon fell asleep. I didn’t mind. He was now truly mine for eternity, and I was his.
Beeelovvveddd, Arrakus agreed.
