No one protested as we slipped out the door, the music cutting off the minute it closed. Fluorescent light blinded me before my pupils adjusted, focusing on Uri's hand as he marched down the hall. Rather than hook my elbow, he settled for holding my wrist. His fingers were squeezing harder than usual. Maybe it was because he drank too much?

"Should we stop to get some ginger ale?"

Uri didn't say anything until we got outside. He dropped my arm, keeping his back to me as his shoulders rose to his ears. My lips pursed and I took a step after him, keeping close. It was too hard to grant him space when we were connected down to the very root of our souls.

"I'm tipsy, not drunk. I just, well…"

He trailed off, a shiver traveling down his spine. Winter's chill teased the air tonight, and I didn't want to test the darkness. We didn't have the luxury of standing around out here until drunk Uri could finish a thought. I shucked off my coat and draped it around his shoulders, stalking forward with my hands deep in my pockets toward campus and the warmth of our apartment. It sat kiddie-corner to the theoretical research laboratories. The tether between us told me Uri followed along behind.

"Well, what?" I prompted.

"Are you going to entertain a woman like Alice for an hour, alone?"

"Of course not," I replied with a roll of my eyes. "I'd like your help letting her down easily without causing a public scene."

Uri huffed a laugh. "Appeasing her by giving out your number but refusing anything more in private helps your good guy status. You're more aware than you let on, aren't you? Can't you admit that you play the game once in a while?"

I sent him a glare over my shoulder. "It's not a game. This is about people's feelings."

Uri looked back at me, eyes suddenly vacant of their previous mirth. "That's funny, coming from you."

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

He shook his head and sped up, walking past me, body outlined by the moon. He was taller than me by several inches, and broader, too. It was the butt of many boasts when we were young. Years sped by under the guise of days, leaving me with little control. We needed more time than fate dared grant.

The ideal timeline was three years to finish the research needed to solve the problem my dimension faced without using Uri as my conduit. However, life didn't flow at the pace of human nature. It pushed my boundaries and buttons. I was only as powerful as the man beside me, and that wasn't powerful at all if he didn't cross the divide.

Sometimes I wished we could return to those simpler days before I had to spark difficult but necessary discussions.

"I don't know," Uri finally mumbled. "Maybe I am drunk."

He shouldered inside our apartment building. Before I could follow, a toxic glow burst through the air like a lightning bug. I caught the note left behind between two fingers with a sigh. There was no doubting who it came from. Roman decreed to send word should my presence in court be required. All dimensions required governance. According to Aristotle's belief, every virtue was born between polar opposites. Therefore, the dimension entertained various schools of thought while I acted as a pillar of never-changing skepticism. Perceive me as the modern Pyrrho. With a huff, I read the runic inscription on the parchment before burning it in the wind.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Rather than leave without a word, I followed Uri up to our apartment. The door was cracked, and I scoffed to myself while toeing off my sneakers. Uri kicked his pair across the foyer, which I straightened for him, but my leather jacket was nowhere to be seen. I expected to find it in a heap on the floor. The tidy living room was dark and empty, and so was the kitchen.

Further inside provided no light either. Uri probably hadn't bothered. I stopped in his doorway, peering in search of my jacket, but even his bed was made and vacant. Minor confusion swirled before realization dawned and I moved to the end of the hall. My door was wide open with an already motionless Uri spread eagle across the comforter. Rather than around his shoulders, my jacket supported his head, Uri's face pressed into it.

Possessive satisfaction swelled beneath my breast bone but I refused to let it take root. The nature of our conduit bond drove those feelings, and Uri was a man in his own right. He belonged to no one and never would. Plus, reading into things was a dangerous game. This happened every time Uri got too intoxicated. I stopped at his side, brushing my fingers through the tuft of amber waves atop his head. Uri immediately leaned into touch, furrowed brow smoothing over.

"I can't stay for long," I murmured, not expecting an answer.

"It's time for sleep. No research after drinking," Uri mumbled.

I jolted with a laugh, lips tugging up at the corners. Uri's eyes snapped open to watch, wide and surprisingly focused. Wasn't he sleeping a moment ago?

"If you recall, I had nothing but water."

Upon closer inspection, Uri's pupils were dilated enough to betray his intoxication, but they still narrowed. "Yeah, that irritated me. Why won't you drink around me?"

His direct questions always hit me like a branch to the face no matter how many times he asked them. I didn't know if it was a tactic, but it worked in peeling away my armor, piece by piece. In truth, there wasn't much left. He knew everything there was to know about the human, Quinlan Fairview. Yet, there was another side of me, someone entirely distinct, that I feared revealing to the one being who knew me at my most vulnerable. In this world, there was nothing special about me beyond my capability. Humanity was refreshing in that aspect.

"I don't drink at all, ever. I'd appreciate it if you'd respect that."

I wasn't as honest as my conduit. I drank once in a great while with Roman in my study on late nights when things felt hopeless and I had nothing else to give. Long ago, it pained me to admit the extensive nature of my dishonesty, my focus on living a truthful life of purpose and selflessness at the forefront of my subconscious.

Current life was far from that ideal, and the number one reason lay right in front of me, pouting so subtly no one else would catch it. Uri's lower lip drew inward, but he acted like he was chewing on it, eyes downcast.

"Fine, fine. But cut it out with all this leaving bullshit. It's midnight. Why the hell would a beanpole like you go out alone in Ann Arbor?"

My nose wrinkled. "I won't be out in the city, just in the living room working on my laptop. Rest, I know you're feeling woozy. I'll have easy-to-eat food in the fridge for you in the morning."

Layered lies were the easiest and most effective kind. All aspects of my explanation were true save for one.

Uri nodded and got comfortable, tugging my jacket further beneath his chest. "Don't stay up too late. I hate when you're irritated."

"Why's that?"

"Because you snap at me."

"I'm sorry about that."

"Don't apologize. Most of the time I deserve it."

"Hardly."

My fingers sunk deeper into his hair, rubbing circles into his scalp until Uri sighed, eyes slipping closed.

"Seriously. Get at least three hours of sleep, on the couch or here. I don't mind in the least."

My heart skipped but I said nothing, turning away to walk down the hall, about to step through the writhing green portal on the other end when Uri's whisper reached me.

"Good night, Q."

"Fruitful dreams, Uri."