Roy got up from the bench and started walking back ho. It was starting to get late and he never really stayed out late except when on missions, etc.
His mind was still elsewhere, half a step behind his body, caught in the rhythm of pavent underfoot and the quiet drag of night air against his face. The city had thinned out by then. Streetlights humd softly, spaced far enough apart to leave pockets of shadow between them. It was the kind of walk where you didn’t really go anywhere; you just let yourself move until the noise inside you dulled.
So when a voice cut in from his left, it took him a second too long to register it.
Graham stood a few steps away, coat buttoned, hands tucked into his pockets like he’d been walking for a while. His expression wasn’t stern or surprised, just neutral and observant. The kind of look that made it feel like he’d been there the whole ti, waiting to be noticed.
“Oh,” Roy said. “Um. I was just… out walking.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, exactly. It settled naturally, like both of them understood there was no rush to fill it.
“I see.”
Roy thought for a second and raised a question for Graham to answer. “And you?”
“Oh, I was just coming back from Kieran’s place because I left sothing there.”
“Oh. Okay.”
They stood there for a mont, neither of them moving, the street stretching on in both directions as if it didn’t particularly care which way they chose. Sowhere in the distance, a car passed. The sound faded quickly.
Graham glanced ahead, then back at Roy. “Mind if I walk with you?”
Roy nodded. “Sure.”
They fell into step together, not quite in sync. It had the strange feeling of two people walking the sa road for different reasons, intersecting briefly before continuing on their own paths.
For a while, they talked about nothing important.
About how cold it was getting. About how the streets looked emptier at night than they actually were. About how Kieran’s place always felt louder than it should, even when no one was talking. It was an easy exchange, the kind that didn’t demand much thought. If soone had been watching from a distance, it might have looked like a normal, unremarkable walk between two people who knew each other well enough.
But there was sothing unspoken running beneath it. Not tension but sothing quieter. Like both of them were circling a subject without acknowledging it.
Eventually, Graham broke.
“So”, Graham said after a mont, “you always go walking this late?”
“Not really,” Roy replied. “Just… when I don’t feel like sitting at ho.”
“That bad?”
Roy tilted his head. “Not bad. Just I can’t sit still.”
Graham huffed softly. “Fair.”
They walked a few blocks in silence, the kind that didn’t demand filling. A shop window reflected them as they passed—two figures moving side by side, indistinct and ordinary.
“Is the park any good tonight?” Graham asked.
“Empty,” Roy said. “Which was nice.”
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“Yeah. Crowds ruin things.”
Roy smirked. “You say that like you don’t cause half the noise in a room.”
“Noise that made people laugh,” Graham said. “Big difference.”
"Debatable, in my opinion.”
They passed a closed café, chairs stacked upside down inside, lights dimd but not off. Roy glanced at it briefly.
“Is Kieran still doing alright?” Graham asked.
“Yeah,” Roy said. “As alright as he ever is.”
“That’s vague.”
“That’s all I know.”
Graham chuckled. “Fair enough.”
Another stretch of quiet followed. Not heavy. Just thoughtful.
Roy adjusted his scarf, eyes forward. “Do you ever feel like days blur together?”
Graham considered it. “Depends. Sotis.”
“Like you wake up, do what you’re supposed to do, go to sleep… and none of it sticks.”
“Sounds like a routine.”
“Sounds like stagnation to .” Roy replied back to Graham.
Graham glanced at him. “Those aren’t always different things.”
Roy humd, unconvinced.
They crossed an intersection, footsteps echoing faintly as they moved. The light changed behind them, painting the road red again.
Roy exhaled slowly.
“I don’t know why,” he said, staring straight ahead, “but my life feels… slow.”
Graham didn’t respond imdiately.
Roy exhaled through his nose, a faint, humourless sound. “That sounded stupid, didn’t it?”
“It did,” Graham said. They walked a few more steps.
“But still,” Roy continued, the words slipping out now that he’d started. “Everything feels slow. Like I’m stuck between things. I haven’t progressed toward anything. I’ve got nothing ahead of . Nothing to look forward to.”
His voice stayed level, almost casual, which made the words land heavier than if he’d forced emotion into them.
“It’s like,” he went on, “I’m just living for the sake of it. Walking down this empty path just because it’s there. Not because it leads anywhere.”
Graham nodded once, subtly. “That’s life, you know. There are highs and lows.”
Roy shook his head. “Yeah. But I haven’t had either recently. No highs. No real lows. Just… flat.”
They stopped at a crossing. The pedestrian light was red, bathing the pavent in a dull glow.
Roy stared at it, hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched.
Then, Roy started to think to himself.
I never did like myself. The thought surfaced fully ford, as if it had been waiting for the right mont.
But I never hated myself either.
I think… I just accepted myself. Not in a good way. Not in a proud way. Just a tired one.
He didn’t say these words out loud. They stayed where they belonged. Inside, steady and unadorned.
He thought about all the things that made him who he was. The personality. The distance he kept between himself and others. The way he watched instead of acted, analysed instead of felt. None of it felt dramatic enough to resent. None of it felt noble enough to admire.
'These are my defects,' he thought. ‘And they’re mine.’ But can I still like myself?
The light changed. They crossed.
Graham glanced sideways at him. “Do you ever think that maybe you’re expecting life to announce itself?”
Roy frowned slightly. “What do you an?”
“Like there’s supposed to be a sign,” Graham said. “A mont where everything clicks and you suddenly know where you’re going. What you’re doing. Why you're here and all that other bullshit.”
Roy considered that. “Isn’t there?”
Graham smiled faintly. “If there is, I missed it.”
That earned a small, genuine laugh from Roy. It surprised him how easily it ca.
They walked on.
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with feeling stuck,” Graham continued. “It doesn’t an you’re broken. It usually just ans you’re paying attention.”
Roy absorbed that in silence.
The street ahead split into two. One path leads toward the apartnts, the other toward a quieter residential stretch. Roy slowed.
“This is ,” he said.
Graham stopped too. “Yeah, I know.”
Another pause.
“Well,” Graham said, “try not to disappear on walks too often. People tend to notice eventually.”
Roy looked at him, confused for half a second, then nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
They parted ways without ceremony.
Roy stood there for a mont longer, watching Graham’s figure recede into the dim light. Then he turned toward ho.
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