Nice Bathroom

Azriel couldn’t suppress a smile when Rickie’s question cut through the thick silence. It was a peculiar question one that felt too simple, too childlike for someone who had been around him long enough to know better. What was he thinking? There were times, like this, when Rickie’s bluntness seemed like a remnant of the carefree youth he once was, before the world demanded he grow up.

Azriel sighed and tilted his head slightly. His smile softened into something more amused than anything else, and with a hint of frustration, he responded, “Do I look like someone who's been kicked out?”

Rickie blinked at him, his brow furrowing with confusion, as though he genuinely couldn’t understand why Azriel would ask such a thing.

“Not really… But then why did you leave the office?” He gestured toward the kitchen, his hands still sticky with the remnants of the ribs he'd devoured.

Azriel’s gaze wandered to the far corner of the room, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of his soup bowl. He hadn’t really expected Rickie to understand. They were family friends almost like brothers but there were things that even time and familiarity couldn’t bridge. They had lived together for a while back when Rickie was just a boy, but now... now they were different.

Azriel was tired of the game, tired of the weight of responsibility, tired of the constant pull of influence. He had spent years working his way to the top, but now it felt like he was suffocating in the very success he had built. The life of power, the politics, the constant maneuvering it had drained him.

“I’m just... tired,” he said softly, meeting Rickie’s gaze. There was no joy in pretending.

“I need a break. Money can’t buy everything, Rickie. Not peace. Not time.”

Rickie didn’t quite seem to believe him. He scrutinized Azriel, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he shrugged, the muscles of his shoulders flexing beneath his shirt as he took another bite of his rib.

There was something about the casualness of his movements that suggested Rickie didn’t entirely understand what it meant to be truly exhausted, to feel as if every part of your life was an obligation.

Azriel, in contrast, had always been more restrained with his emotions. He had learned, long ago, to hide behind an impenetrable mask. He could spend hours in meetings, dealing with power players, making decisions that affect millions, and yet he had no outlet for the pressure that built inside of him.

Rickie, still eating, looked up at Azriel from time to time, seemingly aware of his silence, but choosing not to disturb it. It was a strange dynamic they shared. Azriel could remember a time when Rickie had been just a boy, eager to impress, eager to learn from his older "brother." But now Rickie had grown up, had become a man in his own right, and Azriel often wondered whether he even remembered those simpler days.

Azriel didn’t eat much. His appetite had waned in recent months. His body felt sluggish, worn down by too many sleepless nights and too much stress. He picked at the few dishes in front of him and sipped at his soup, half-heartedly.

Rickie glanced at him, his eyebrow raised in mild disbelief. “Finished already?” He couldn’t help but chuckle.

Azriel gave him a small smile. “I’m eating less tonight.”

Rickie shook his head in amusement. “You eat like a cat, barely touching the food. Don’t you like it?”

Azriel chuckled lightly, despite the exhaustion in his bones. “It’s delicious just not in the mood to gorge myself.”

Rickie’s face softened. He had always been one to appreciate food. In fact, he was the type to dive into meals with such zeal that it was almost comical. But Azriel had always been the opposite: methodical, restrained, always keeping things just so.

“I guess you're still the same, huh?” Rickie muttered, half to himself, as he finished the last of his meal. He cleared the plates away, his movements automatic. He’d always been like that efficient, almost mechanical when it came to tasks. It was one of the things Azriel had always admired about him. It was also something that reminded Azriel how much Rickie had changed since their youth.

“Are you done?” Rickie asked, standing up and wiping his hands on a napkin. He didn’t wait for a response before moving toward the sink to finish cleaning up.

Azriel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The sudden feeling of restlessness had crept up on him, his stomach feeling unsettled from too much food. As if on cue, his body reminded him of its limits, and he leaned forward, placing a hand on his stomach.

"Think I’ll sit down for a bit," Azriel muttered, pushing himself up from the table. His joints ached, a deep, persistent pain that had started to become his constant companion.

Rickie, finishing his task, glanced over his shoulder. "Alright. I’ll join you in a minute."

Azriel walked slowly toward the living room, the weight of his body dragging him down. Each step felt like a little more effort than the last, his legs stiff, his chest tight. When he sank into the sofa, it felt like a small relief, but it didn’t last. He opened the newspaper on the coffee table, though he barely registered the words. His mind kept drifting, back to the things he’d left behind his old office, his old life.

Rickie eventually joined him, his footsteps light, almost carefree. He had finished his meal and had become more relaxed, as if the mere act of eating had given him some semblance of contentment.

“So, which room do I take?” Rickie asked, standing in the doorway.

Azriel blinked, momentarily lost in thought. "My room’s on the second floor. You can choose any other room. There should be clean towels and toiletries in the other bathrooms."

Rickie looked at him with mild curiosity. "I didn’t bring anything with me, so there’s probably nothing in my room, right?"

Azriel nodded, not really surprised by the question. Rickie had always been somewhat forgetful when it came to his personal belongings. "There are new toiletries in the guest bathrooms, but I’ve left a set of pajamas in my room. I’ll bring you two sets later."

Rickie grinned. "Then bring them now. I need a shower."

Azriel’s lips twitched at the familiarity in Rickie’s voice. It was funny. Even after all this time, Rickie still had that... bossy tone. The tone that Azriel used to humor him when Rickie was just a kid. But it wasn’t a demand now, just a simple request. Rickie hadn’t changed all that much, had he?

"Alright.. Alright, I’ll get them for you boss." Azriel replied with a soft sigh, standing up and feeling the ache in his legs as he did.

"But if you’re not careful, I might start charging you for my services," he teased, though it didn’t quite mask the tiredness in his voice.

Rickie chuckled, his face lighting up with that same mischievous energy he always had. "I’m in for it."

Azriel moved toward the stairs, taking them slowly. He could feel his knees protesting with every step, the familiar ache of years of use and wear. Rickie followed behind, his steps light and carefree, though Azriel could hear him breathing lightly, almost too eagerly.

Once at the top of the stairs, Azriel turned toward his room, though he didn’t head straight for it. Instead, he motioned toward one of the guest rooms. "Here. This one’s got a nice bathroom, and it’s big enough for you."