It turned out that, while Em didn’t really have any particular skills, he didn’t mind doing the dull, humble jobs - like folding a thousand pamphlets into 3 equal parts - that no one else wanted to do, and he stayed late, as long as there was someone to open the house for him.

He sat at the corner desk with his work load and quietly beavered away, working methodically and unhurriedly, and soon became as much a part of the background scenery of the Blue House as any of the Menagerie. He rarely spoke unless he had no choice but to answer, and then in small clipped phrases, minimal expressions. People would often show their surprise at hearing the rough, grating hoarseness of his voice, then move quickly on past it, preferring to pretend they hadn’t noticed that it sounded like he had been screaming for twenty four hours straight. No one was so blunt as to ask him why his voice sounded that way, and since he was mostly quiet, his presence was accepted and eventually ignored.

Since Cressida complained about the smoke, he would go outside to have his break. He never joined in on the general cacophony of conversation that existed in the Blue House these days, obviously preferring his little island of quiet. Bren never said anything about it, though Eddie would occasionally see them talking briefly and quietly together.

Eddie was also spending more hours there now, more than anyone else did, and it was mostly voluntary. (He had stopped pretending to be bothered by it.) Richards felt absolutely no guilt about piling on as much work onto Eddie’s shoulders as there was on his. He justified it by saying that he was a teacher, and had an actual paid job to do, whereas Eddie was a student and had nothing better to do with his free time.

Eddie made some half-hearted objections to that, but the truth was, he was good at this. He was good at directing and managing people, and being completely entrenched in something, his mind actively occupied at all times was both exhausting and exhilarating. Besides, in his mind, he was better at it than Richards was, because he was good with people.

Eddie found himself often sharing the Blue House with Em of an evening, once everyone else had gone home and the bustle had died away. Eddie was collating some final procedures; honestly, with the amount of red tape the college was throwing at them, one wondered if they wanted this centre to happen at all. In spite of the fact that the Rossi name was now officially on the guest list for future elbow-rubbing parties - a fact that he could keep secret since he was the one who had made the list - he had to make sure every T was crossed and every I dotted because, really, if they didn’t just give them the go ahead at this point, he was going to start getting rude.

Em was sitting at the opposite end of the room, carefully filling envelopes with flyers to send to the residents in the surrounding areas near the college, to drum up community support. Em sat in a vague haze of smoke, since Eddie didn’t mind him smoking indoors as long as the window was open behind him and the smell wouldn’t linger the next day. Eddie watched him circumspectly. Em had finally covered up in the colder weather, but that only meant he now wore a plain black woollen sweater, with a round neckline. As far as Eddie could tell, he only owned black clothing, even down to his socks.

Em was a puzzle. No, more like an itch. Whereas everyone else either didn’t notice Em or accepted his silent presence with equanimity, Eddie had a bit more perspective on him than that, and so he couldn’t. Apart from having carnal knowledge of the man, there was also their strange conversation that Em had obviously no intention of revisiting. Eddie, usually fairly content to let people stew in their own stories, couldn’t let it go. Add the fact that Em was an inexplicable addition to the team, and Eddie was officially Curious. He would have thought Em would prefer to stay isolated, judging by the way he made absolutely no effort to socialise. Joining a social organisation, now, that didn’t really fit did it?

He pushed himself away from the table, feeling the ache in his back bone from sitting for so long, then walked to Em’s table and tapped on it lightly.

“Smoke break?”

Em raised an eyebrow at him, indicating the cigarette in his fingers.

“Fresh air, and a smoke break for me then.”

Em paused for a minute then stood up, following Eddie into the open.

He offered his pack to Eddie. This had become another odd little pattern, Em offering Eddie a smoke if they happened to be alone together. Eddie never refused, and only smoked when Em offered one. It had somehow become rude not to.

He pulled on the stick deeply, and blew the smoke into the coldness of the night air, his breath making it look thicker and more cloud-like.

“I suppose I should get my own.” Eddie said. Em didn’t reply.

“Still not entirely sure why you offered it to me in the first place.Eddie mused, somehow becoming comfortable with the fact that Em was unlikely to reply. Maybe he did reply, in his head. Was his head crowded with the words he didn’t say? Or was his mind as calm and placid as his silence? Or was it raging with loud, screaming music? Did Em go home and have one man mosh pits?

“Told you, you looked like you needed one.” Em replied.

Eddie looked at him in shock. “Good grief, it talks.”

The thing was, Em spoke so seldom that when he did speak, his deep, rasping voice almost always came as a surprise, to others. Eddie had grown to anticipate it, even enjoy it, made more enjoyable by its scarcity.

Em didn’t go on so Eddie did. “What do you mean then?”

Em looked like he might not reply but eventually said, a bit more softly, “I can see how looking at Christian and Bren bothers you.”

Eddie’s hand stilled on the way up to his mouth. Not the direction he had thought the conversation was going in.

“Excuse me?” he managed.

Em shook his head. “I know what that’s like.”

“What what is like?” Eddie said non-committal, as if he could somehow save face.

“To watch someone you’re into loving someone else.”

Eddie fancied he could feel the world turning, under his feet, tilting in infinitesimal movements on its axis. Then he pulled himself back to himself, trying to find an internal balance.

“I…” he started but the words vanished. Eventually he laughed, but it was a desperate little laugh. “Am I that obvious?”

Em shook his head again in a small movement. “No. They’re all pretty self-absorbed. And I watch, so I see.”

“Are you watching me?” Eddie asked, looking at Em them from the corner of his eye.

“I watch everyone.”

“Well, aren’t you fucking mysterious.” Eddie let his hand drop to his side, cigarette forgotten. “Are you going to tell Bren?”

Em looked at him then, his hazel-brown eyes shot through with annoyance. “No. I don’t spill other people’s secrets.”

Eddie thought he should feel relieved, but he wasn’t. “I confess myself embarrassed.”

Em pulled at his stick. “There’s a first.”

Eddie felt a flash of anger then surprise. “Was that a joke? Did stone-face just make a funny?”

Em stubbed out the butt on his sole and flicked it away, turning to go back inside. Eddie followed him in, after doing the same.

Instead of going back to his computer, he sat at the table across from Em and started helping him with the envelopes. Em looked at him briefly before carrying on, and they settled into an easy silence. Eddie didn’t usually enjoy monotonous activity, but suddenly his mind was very full and he needed his hands to work while his brain did other things.

“How did you know?” Eddie asked quietly.

Again there was a pause in which Em might or might not answer. Then; “That guy says ‘I’m thirsty’ and suddenly everyone has a coke.’”

Eddie flinched. “It is obvious then.”

“No. You’re always looking after everyone, so everyone thinks it’s just how you are. Easiest to hide in plain sight.”

Em had stated it so perfectly, that even Eddie hadn’t reflected on just how easily he hid his infatuation. No one saw, because no one expected to see, and if they looked too close, Eddie turned up the volume until they forgot to.

After some more silence, in which Eddie’s hands had forgotten their work, Em spoke again. “It’s ok, you know.”

Eddie looked up and saw Em had already lit another stick, which was now hanging between his index and middle finger , his one arm resting on the other and looking off.

“Wanting someone is ok. Not pushing it. That’s hard.”

Eddie let his hands come to rest in his lap. “Sounds like experience talking.”

Em tilted his head slightly in a shrug. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Eddie’s forehead furrowed. “Look, my aching heart aside, could we clarify something? It’s been buzzing around in my brain.”

Em waved his cigarette to indicate he should continue.

“You said you’re out, then you made a vague reference to being gay or straight. Which is it?”

Em looked at his from under lowered brows. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I would like to know who I slept with.”

Em breathed out a laboured sigh, and put his envelope down, leaning back and looking straight at Eddie. The effect was jarring. Em never looked directly at anyone, and the intensity of his gaze could unfreeze ice.

“If it means so damn much to you, you can call me bi.” He said in his rolling-over-gravel voice.

“Like Bren.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know Bren’s story. I only know me.”

Eddie leaned forward on his elbows now, eagerly meeting Em’s gaze. It was a mix of boredom and intensity that was completely bewildering and sexy at the same time. “So tell me ‘you’.’

Another drag. “I don’t see why I should tell you anything.”

Eddie gestured to the empty space around them. “It’s just us, and you know I don’t go around spreading gossip.”

A quiet, assessing silence. “Do you know what ‘gender-blind’ means?”

“Ah.”

“Don’t assume.”

“You’ve left a lot of room for assumption.”

Em sighed like he was over the topic, leaving the cigarette dangling from his lips and coming forward to carry on with his folding and stuffing.

“So why did you come on to me, that first night?” Eddie asked, because he couldn’t let it go.

Em’s shoulder hunched slightly, like he was getting to breaking point. When he didn’t answer, Eddie went on; “Because being gender-blind means you’re more attracted to a person than a gender. But you didn’t know me from Adam.”

Em let the papers fall from his hands and stubbed his half-burned cig out on the desk before looking at Eddie then.

“I was there for the same reason as you. I needed a fuck. That’s it.”

“You could’ve have fucked anyone else.”

“I should have. Then I wouldn’t be having this conversation now.”

With that, Em stood and walked out the door into the night, leaving Eddie alone and perplexed.