Eli.

It was a name ringing inside his head. He rolled his tongue to its syllables and yet silence only came out of his mouth, lacking of the volume he needs to hear his own voice. But, for now, it suffices. Lorenzo knows his limits, he treads it lightly, dipping his toes into the unknown and wonder at the other side of his comfort zone. It accelerates his excitement; his smile widens at the thought and the unknowing pain it’ll bring were all brushed off for the memories he’ll treasure.

Foolish, he knows, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t want to.

Lorenzo sighs, looking at the horizon from the window. The sky darkens, casting its shadow on the buildings in front of him and soon people lit up their homes. Others switch on the signs of their business, coloring his view with the neon lights and advertisement with models and actors. He looks around, one by one, questioning the occupants he sees from their place and wonder at the chance he’ll meet his soulmate again.

“Eli,” he said, finally. He giggled, grinning at the slip of his tongue. The name had fluttered his stomach and made his heart skip a beat; his hand began to feel cold too but it could’ve been the can of beer he’s holding. He could’ve been tipsy from drinking it with an empty stomach.

Reasons, reasons. No matter what he chooses, Lorenzo will point his fingers to his soulmate, blaming the man for the jitters he’s feeling. It was reasonable, he thinks and took a sip from his drink, burping at the end of it.

“Reminiscing already, Lorenzo?” He hears a voice from his behind and he didn’t check to see who it was. The taps of her heels on the wooden floor and the mild scent of her perfume invaded his space. However, nothing could distract him from the night.

He glances to the traffic on the road, imagining Eli driving back to his place. Whether it’d be an apartment or a house, living alone or with roommates. Children could be a possibility and the thought left him giddy. The joys of a family formed by him and his soulmate.

“Guess those long hours deteriorated your sanity,” she persists with a conversation, standing beside him with the bouquet he had bought from Eli’s shop. “And your memory too. You know I hate receiving bouquets. I don’t have a green thumb.”

“Shut up,” Lorenzo responds back, lacking the bite of his words and looks at her from the corner of his eye. She was smirking, for whatever reason. She notices his staring and flips her hair at his direction, wrinkling the wrapping paper even further with her hold.

“Oh? And why should I?” Cindy argues, amusement clear from her voice. “I had to delay the party for ten minutes because you haven’t arrived, yet. Even though, it’s my birthday.”

“Got stuck at the store to buy you a present because you’d be a bitch to me if I didn’t give you something,” he explained and dreads at the sound of her shoe tapping once. It was a habit of hers, an unpredictable form of action that is used for various occasions.

Lorenzo is unsure if she’s annoyed by the word he used or his tardiness to the event. Probably both. She could also be testing his patience, riling him up and annoy him to the fullest.

She clicked her tongue. “My, my, a naughty word. I’m sure the parents of your patients would be pleased that their child’s doctor is anything but a good man.”

“A man would still be a good man even if they have a mouth dirtier than their underwear,” Lorenzo tells her, trailing his eyes at her form. She wasn’t shy at the attention and shows off the outfit she wore for the party, turning around to present the backless curve of her dress.

For a moment, something shines underneath the bottom hem of her dress and, in an instant, Lorenzo repulse at the assumption. Shaking his head at the possible thing she’s wearing. He took large gulps of his beer, grimacing at the acid clogging this throat and heaves out the pain. The can had become lighter and he loosens his hold around it.

He cleared his throat, ignoring the chuckle from his actions and continues the banter. Cindy wasn’t the type to enjoy the conversation constantly changing unless she does it and Lorenzo doesn’t have anything else to talk about.

“I’m sure your patients and our colleagues would be shock at the medical inaccuracies you have written in your books,” Lorenzo added, quirking at the huff she lets out from his words. “They’d be traumatized with your horrific endeavors of the female body – like me, unfortunately.”  

“It’s a pet peeve I have come to accept. Besides it’s not liked my readers would know the differences, really. The cervix isn’t the target aim for an eventual orgasm but only a few knows about it through research, others unfortunately had to experience it firsthand,” she said nonchalantly, shrugging off at the gag sounds he made at his words.

“You made it sound like there’s no other choice.” He was curious, overall. Doctors do have hobbies and others tend to create their own business as a side gig. However, becoming an erotica writer in the internet was never a job Lorenzo could think of when balancing with their profession. He’d be more understanding if Cindy just sees it as a stress reliever but his friend made herself a top writer for a website.

Cindy tossed the bouquet on a chair next to them, carrying only a flower that was red on the bottom with a white faded colored top. The innermost petals have lines drawn on a dark shade of red too.

He didn’t get to ask Elijah on its name and its meaning. But he hopes it represents something, not just a random flower Iris had picked up in a hurry.

“I tried, you know, but then I realize I didn’t want to be reminded of my main job – that, and people only read my works just to pleasure themselves with it, not kill their boners,” she said, twirling around the flower on front of her. She tilted and so was the flower she held in her hand. She wasn’t curious, her face didn’t hold much of the expression he was used to when she’s interested at something. But tidbits of it showed, somehow. She hums, curling the edge of her upwards and slightly narrowed her eyes at it.

“Horny.” It was a word he could only let out but there were questions he couldn’t utter and he’d be damned if he said out loud with everyone in earshot.

“I know, and there are times when I get heated thinking about the scenes I’m writing,” she confessed, grinning with her eyes glinting at the pleasure she has on the matter. Lorenzo just drank the entirety of his beverage, hoping to numb the experience. “Of course, I have a schedule to maintain and a fanbase to keep up with. So, I tend hold it in and complete my works.”

“Okay, that is something I don’t need to know about,” Lorenzo interrupts, later than expected. He could only cover one ear at the moment, his other hand occupied at the empty can of his beer.

Cindy just laughs at him, quietly. She covers a hand over her mouth, looking at him with the clear look of amusement drawn on her face and rolled her eyes at the disgust Lorenzo presented.

Lorenzo walked away. Throwing his can at the trash can near the dining table. All of it dishes were finger food; the utensils were only placed next to it out of courtesy. But Cindy has made it clear at her distaste of cleaning up after an event in her home.

He went to a different location, one without his friend unashamed at her antics in the internet and be at peace in solitude. So, he stood at the corner in the kitchen, away from the crowd standing by the living room, engrossed at the show some were watching, others huddled at the chairs in dining room. From the multiple glances he pointed near the windows, Cindy had struck a conversation with someone else, albeit looking less casual than before.

Somehow, that reassured him.

He took out his phone from his pocket, aware at the lack of people crowding the room he’s in. The silence he was surrounded with have heighten the white noises he hears from his head. His heart beat was loud enough to be listened to as well. He gulps, anticipating at the results he’ll find with a couple of words he inputs into the search engine. Lorenzo hums, the top searches were what he expected!

He gulps, hunger coiling his stomach but the crave were anything but food, really.

Soon after Eli had said his name, his soulmate’s phone rang and that alone ended their time together. Eli left the counter and enter to the supposed floral design room behind the curtain hanging on a doorframe. Minutes passed by, with only Iris coming out of the room, disappointing him the news of the shop closing. Other than a name, not a phone number nor a social media account was given to him. Eli also had only answered his question on his second try to garner a name from the man.

His soulmate doesn’t look excited at the sight of him, either. Lorenzo expected his first meeting with his destined lover to be romantic but all he embraced at the scene were the tension he carried on his shoulders. He could hardly breathe in the air and Iris and Oak were treading slightly between him and Eli.

“Eli,” Lorenzo calls out to his soulmate, knowing he wouldn’t receive a reply.

The social media account for The Flower Bee was normal. Like any business with an online presence, the account is filled with products they have made for special events. Weddings have a higher rate of likes and comments. They also posted discounts and specials for holidays like Valentine’s. The reviews have recently reached a hundred but all of it were positive too. Iris and Oak weren’t shy from posting selfies at the store as well, showcasing the cleanliness and the abundance of diverse range of flowers and plants they have.

Eli was the only one who was excluded from any sort of engagement, at least that’s what he assumes at the pictures posted. Lorenzo could’ve guessed that his soulmate prefers to stay behind the camera than be on front of it. Who knows, Eli is taking control of the page and prefers to smile on front of the computer instead.

Lorenzo checks for phone number they wrote in the description box, even an email account was placed underneath it. They were even okay at the direct chat from their social media account too. Whatever, he thinks, placing the other options from the corner of his mind before dialing the number.

It rings.

He’s quick and he’s proud, and desperate, clutching his phone as tightly as he could. Trying to reassure himself that the reason Eli acted so detached and aloof back then was the wrong timing, an incident that affect his soulmate’s mood – and not him, he could never be the subject of one’s misery.