ALGOR MORTIS

Heartstrings

CONTENT WARNINGS: heart attack, medical distress, identity disturbances


Hieu Phan strolled up the stairs to his and Norman’s new apartment with a spring in his step and his arms full of groceries. As much a blessing Norman’s mother was allowing them to stay until they were back on their feet, the multi-generational household had been – well, a bit cramped. Their new place was reasonably priced, not far from Norman’s place of work, and just the right size for them both.

The turn of the millennium was a new beginning for them, as it’d been for Betsy Winters.

Once Hieu was about to head up the last flight of stairs, he noticed something odd: their apartment door, wide open. His step slowed, stopped, then became a jog. He dropped the groceries at the door, shuffling inside with his boots still on; Norman’s own shoes were strewn about haphazardly rather than neatly on the mat.

“Norm?!” Hieu called.

He rounded the corner.

On the kitchen floor lay Norman Nguyen.

He wasn’t moving.

Wasn’t breathing.

Hieu’s world came crashing down around him.


“...So he was without oxygen for awhile,” Hieu said. He dabbed his tear-stained cheeks on his sleeve. “Can I see his-” he started, and paused, swallowing back the flood of tears threatening to drown him. “Can I see him before I make arrangements with the funeral home?”

The young nurse before him shifted uncomfortably.

“Your husband isn’t dead, Mr. Phan,” he said.

Hieu’s entire body grew rigid in preparation to break right then and there. He furiously held himself together.

“I know his DNR request is in your system,” he said in a strained, patient tone. “I submitted it myself. Why was he resuscitated?”

“Well, your husband didn’t undergo brain death, either,” the nurse said. “In fact, he’s awake, and reacting normally to his environment.”

The tension left Hieu’s body all at once, nearly dropping his knees out from under him.

“What?” he asked.

Once they reached the room Norman was staying in, Hieu could only manage a glance inside: sure enough, Norman was sitting up, preoccupied with a meal tray. Hieu rolled away from the door and stared at the nurse in disbelief.

“Are you positive he was without oxygen for that long?” Hieu asked.

“At least that long,” the nurse replied. “He ended up coming to in the ambulance.”

Hieu made a concerted effort to close his gaping mouth.

“He’s just – he’s fine? No lasting effects?” he asked.

“We may not know the full extent of the damage until he’s been under observation for a time. I’ll give you the heads up now, though, that he’s rather disoriented,” the nurse said. “Considering how long he’d been without oxygen, the level of awareness he’s displaying is miraculous in itself.”

Hieu mustered a smile at the young man.

“Thank you for all you’re doing. Really,” Hieu said. “I’m going to go in and see him now.”

When Hieu entered the room, Norman stared blankly at him for a moment, before seeming to make the connection. But it wasn’t a smile that crossed Norman’s face at the sight of his husband – it was panic.

Fear gripped Hieu’s heart anew.

“Norm...? Do you recognize me?” he asked.

To his relief, Norman nodded.

"Yes, of course I know you," he said. “I-I won’t be here long. He’ll come back. He will. It just takes time.”

It was Hieu’s turn to stare blankly. But Norman didn’t elaborate; he regained interest in what was left of his dinner. Hieu scooted a chair to the bedside, and it was at this distance he saw how bloodshot his husband’s eyes were.

A thought tugged the back of his mind then.

He’d seen Norman survive wounds that’d have killed anyone else.

Had his survival tonight been because of-

“This food sucks,” Norman said sadly.

Despite how tense he was, Hieu burst out laughing. Norman eventually laughed also, differently than Hieu remembered. It was breathier now.

“I’ll make you something good to eat to eat when you get home,” Hieu said.

Norman finally smiled, the fear in his eyes thawing slightly. “I would like that.”

Hieu slid a hand over Norman’s. His fingers twitched, before shyly lacing with Hieu’s. There was a look of awe on his face, as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Something about being looked at this way made Hieu’s cheeks grow warm.

“What’s with that look?” he asked coyly. “We’ve held hands before.”

“You’ve never really been mine to hold,” Norman said.

Hieu laughed. “What? Of course I am, you goofball. We’re married, aren’t we?”

Norman took both of Hieu’s hands into his and held them greedily to his mouth. A familiar sharpness grazed his knuckles.

Hieu shot him a cheesy grin. “You can’t already be that excited after having a heart attack.”

“A heart attack?” Norman echoed.

“Yeah. You – uh, you weren’t breathing when I found you. You went without oxygen for awhile,” Hieu said.

The panicked look surfaced again on Norman’s face.

“Is that so,” Norman stated. He hung his head. “This hasn’t happened before. I feel lonely.”

“I’d get in the bed with you, but I don’t think the staff here would be crazy about that,” Hieu said with a chuckle. “We’ll be right back to sharing a bed once you get home, okay?”

Norman nodded. He groped Hieu’s hands, toying with the ring on his finger. He looked down at his own, and smiled.

“I like the sound of that,” Norman said, and sighed. “Oh, Hieu. I’ve seen and felt you through him for years now. But this is the first time I’ve had you all to myself?”

Hieu’s brows rose.

“Him who?” he asked.

“Minh,” Norman said, matter-of-factly.

“Babe. You’re Minh,” Hieu said.

Norman’s face grew solemn. He squeezed Hieu’s hand firmly, his grip only relaxing once Hieu winced. A thick red tear was growing at the corner of his eye, threatening to fall. Hieu wiped it away with his sleeve.

“Norm? What’s wrong?” Hieu asked.

“I’m not who you know,” Norman said.

Hieu squeezed Norman’s hand reassuringly as he could.

“Then we’ll figure this out together,” Hieu said.


Norman’s progress in the coming days would be encouraging. He was back on his feet in no time at all, walking, running, and even exercising with no issue. On the third day, a baffled looking doctor pulled Hieu aside.

“Mr. Nguyen’s blood pressure’s of great concern. It’s extremely high, but all his blood work came back normal. No vitamin deficiencies, no issues with cholesterol or sodium levels. He’s perfectly physically healthy,” she’d said, not without a hint of frustration. “Is he particularly stressed?”

Hieu sighed, silently, in relief. Whatever Norman had – or was – it didn’t seem to have been detected.

“He’s been high strung the last few years due to work,” Hieu had said. “He changed jobs recently so I thought he was improving. I guess it was worse than he let on. He’s always been reserved.”

“I see,” the doctor said. “For the time being, we’ll give Mr. Nguyen a prescription for his hypertension. We can also refer him for therapy to manage his stress, if he’s open to that.”

“Blood pressure medication? A therapist?” Norman echoed, brows furrowing while he continued his push-ups. “I don’t really want all that. Didn’t she say I was healthy?”

“Your blood pressure’s got her worried. It’s really high,” Hieu said.

Norman sat on the bed, wiping the sweat from his brow on the gown he was wearing.

“Is that not normal?” he asked.

“Well, the higher your blood pressure is, the harder your heart has to work to pump blood. Over time, that starts to damage your heart,” Hieu replied. “And we’re not young men anymore, Norm. You especially, now that you’ve hit fifty.”

Norman was quiet for a moment.

“Is that so. I feel foolish such damage slipped by me,” he grumbled. He looked to Hieu with glistening eyes; striking patches of red stained his sclera. “I didn’t do anything to protect him this time. I’m sorry.”

Hieu blinked in bewilderment, finding himself at a loss for words. Had he actually been speaking to the creature living within Norman? Hieu winced internally – ‘creature’. What a cruel thing to call him. Sure, all he’d known of him so far was gnashing teeth, gaping wounds and that foul smelling blood. But here, now, on the verge of tears...he looked as human as Norman always had.

Hieu pat his husband’s hand.

“You’ve done a good job protecting him for a long time, and I appreciate it,” Hieu said. “But you don’t always have to seem so strong.”

Red tears fell, and Hieu caught them on his sleeve, silently grateful his uniforms were navy blue. When he rubbed his thumb across Norman’s cheek, his hand was captured and nuzzled extensively yet again. Hieu chuckled; Norman’s stubble tickled.

“Your blood pressure aside, your vitals and blood work all look good,” Hieu said. “She said I can take you home tomorrow if you’re still doing well.”

“I want to go with you now,” Norman nearly whined.

Hieu smiled warmly.

“One more night,” he said.

One more night would come and go, and Hieu was handing Norman a change of clothes. When Norman stripped off the hospital gown, Hieu realized with horror how thin his husband had gotten after the heart attack. Norman was lanky by nature, but being able to see every last rib was deeply distressing.

“You got so scrawny,” Hieu mused as casually as he could.

“Getting better takes time and energy, and the food here is not nearly enough of what I need,” Norman said sadly.

As if on cue, his stomach growled audibly, and he let out that unfamiliar wheezy laughter. Hieu grinned.

“Don’t you worry, babe,” he said. “I got the stuff together to make your favorite tonight!”

Norman’s face lit up. A thin line of drool escaped the corner of his mouth; Hieu wiped it away wordlessly.

“Excellent,” Norman said hungrily. “Can I help?!”

“Of course. Couldn’t do it without you,” Hieu said.

He pressed a kiss to the corner of Norman’s mouth. Under his lips, Hieu felt his face heat up, practically burning to the touch.


The one Minh Nam Nguyen called Rêu all those years ago fiddled awkwardly with the pill bottle; today, he’d be starting medication to help with their ‘high blood pressure’. Whatever that meant. If it helped, did it matter what it meant? Minh was older now. No matter what he did to prolong their life together, it was ultimately in vain – human beings were not endless, and though born of the endless ones, neither was Rêu.

He bit back an explosion of emotion at the thought. It was lonelier now while the damage compromising Minh’s brain was healing. He’d hoped they’d be buried together.

Rêu tried reading the bottle through bleary, wet eyes.

“One a day. Take with food,” he mumbled.

He stopped fussing with the bottle, feeling a little ridiculous. It’d have to wait, then, until dinner was ready.

He wandered into the dining room. The apartment was chock full of the wonderful aroma of their dinner-to-be. Hieu prepared almost everything in advance of his return, so all Rêu had to do now was strain the broth while Hieu chopped up herbs and vegetables for garnish.

Rêu was excited to eat, naturally, but he was excited for another reason, too. Though he’d lived with and loved Hieu as long and as deeply as Minh had, they’d never had one-on-one time together, so to speak, what with Hieu only finding out he even existed in the last few years. Even then, the only time Hieu had seen him were during his host’s most vulnerable moment: when Minh felt abject terror.

Terror in the face of death was what brought them together in the first place – when the two became one, Rêu swore to protect him from that terror.

Another burst of emotion made Rêu clutch his chest.

“Norm, are you okay?!”

Rêu’s eyes snapped open. Hieu stood in the doorway to the kitchen, looking at him in alarm. Rêu held up his hands.

“Yes. I’m fine,” Rêu said. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“If you’d like to talk, I’m here,” Hieu said softly. “In the meantime, could you set the table? Dinner’s just about done.”

Soon, they sat down for dinner. Hieu put together a plate for his husband first, then his own, and started to dig in. Rêu was rigid with uncertainty. Should he chow down with wild abandon, or stare longingly at Hieu?! How many times had he sat down to eat dinner with this man as another, yet here he was, getting flustered!

Hunger won out in the end, and once he’d taken his pill, Rêu took a bite of his beef noodle soup. He sighed pleasurably and squeezed extra lime juice into his bowl, resisting the urge to tip the whole thing down his throat, having to remind himself to slow down, to savor.

In the meantime, Hieu cracked open a can of beer and fixed Rêu with a patient stare.

“Are you the one that lives inside Norman?” Hieu asked.

Rêu paused mid-chew at the abruptness of the question.

“Minh called me Rêu,” he said.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Hieu said. “Norm and I never really got around to talking about you after what happened.”

“Ah, yes. I remember how he felt when I’d come up. He was always afraid of how you’d react.”

“You’re Ankhanum, then.”

“I suppose so. But that isn’t all there is to me. I’ve been living alongside Minh for so long that title feels more nostalgic than anything.”

Rêu meet Hieu’s gaze, and softened.

“You didn’t get to know me until now, but I’m well acquainted with you,” Rêu continued. “I’ve been looking forward to spending time with you! As much as I can with Minh not around, as well.”

Hieu sighed, averting his eyes.

“Is he-” he started. He paused to swallow back tears. “Is he gone for good?”

Rêu frowned, and steepled his fingers in thought.

“I...couldn’t say. Not confidently, anyway,” Rêu said. “The brain is more complicated a repair than reattaching an arm, or reconstructing an ear canal. I’m choosing to believe this is only temporary. That such a thing can be recovered from in time. Is that not how it works with a ‘typical’ brain injury?”

Hieu said nothing, prodding at his dinner with no enthusiasm. Rêu looked to him apologetically.

“...I’m sorry. I live within him, but I could never read his thoughts with ease,” he said. “Most of the input I’d get from Minh was relayed through his senses: what he saw, heard, physically felt. I could feel his fear, especially. It was always a freezing cold surge of adrenaline. But now, I feel. More alone. Than I used to. It’s quieter than I realized it’d be.”

Hieu let out a light, though sad, laugh.

“I’m over here feeling sorry for myself, but this is the single most devastating loss of your life,” he said quietly.

Rêu reached across the table, squeezing Hieu’s hand.

“That’s not entirely true. I love Minh deeply as well, but we would be equally devastated to lose you,” Rêu said.

Hieu looked up at him in shock. Unexpectedly to both, he burst into tears. Warmth enveloped him as Rêu stood and embraced him. He buried his face into Rêu’s chest and cried.

“I was so scared,” he sobbed. “I thought – I thought I’d never see you alive again!”

Rêu gently scraped his nails along Hieu’s back. Though he knew Hieu was referring to Minh, his healing heart still soared.


Dinner was cold by the time they regained their composure, but they finished up, seconds included – it was too good to dream of wasting. Side-by-side, Hieu did the washing up, while Rêu dried and put dishes away, as Norman usually did since he could reach the higher shelves.

Hieu then took the longest, hottest shower of his life, furiously scrubbing away his anxieties in preparation for bed. He had no work lined up for the next few days, so he could devote this time to Norman.

And Rêu, he had to remind myself.

In the middle of toweling off, Hieu paused, trying to wrap his head around that. Had he had two partners this entire time? How much of Norman was Rêu, and vice versa? He’d felt comfortable with Rêu, though he’d noticed a few differentiating quirks: Rêu smiled toothily where Norman smiled with his mouth closed, and Rêu’s laugh was a breathy cackle, opposed to Norman’s low and nervous chuckles.

Hieu smoothed out what was left of his hair, stepped into his boxers and ventured out of the bathroom. Rather than getting settled in their bedroom, Rêu was laying a blanket across the couch.

“You’re not coming to bed?” Hieu asked.

Rêu looked over his shoulder; in the warm light coming from their bedroom, his eyes seemed to glimmer.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to share the bed with me, knowing I’m not Minh,” he said.

“Well, you’ve been around since before I met him – safe to say we’ve shared it many times already,” Hieu said. “Come to bed, Rêu.”

Rêu leapt from the couch with a speed that made Hieu jump back; in a moment, he was leaning into his face, cradling the blanket he’d wrestled from their closet.

“Do you mean it?” Rêu asked, his breath hot on Hieu’s face.

Those pointed teeth were very visible now, long locks of his dark brown hair hanging loosely about his face and framing his mouth perfectly-

Hieu turned away abruptly, cheeks burning. “Y-yeah! Of course.”

And he did, but he’d be lying if he said his heart wasn’t pounding. Though, not due to fear. Hieu sought the shelter of their bed, draping their blanket over himself. His husband had just gotten out of the hospital after having a heart attack, and here he was, ready to jump his bones.

Rêu immediately stripped off his clothes and flung them with precision at the hamper in the corner of their room. Hieu gaped for a myriad of reasons: firstly, Rêu hadn’t exaggerated the effect of good food on his body, middle-aged pudge settling back in and cushioning his ribs, and secondly – the sight wasn’t helping Hieu feel any less flustered.

“Why’d you do that?” Hieu asked, dumbfounded.

“I haven’t showered in days. I’m not going to bed dirty,” Rêu replied, before disappearing into the bathroom.

Hieu facepalmed. Duh. Of course that’s why he’d strip down. In his own bedroom. In front of his husband, a man he’d stripped down before many, many times. Hieu collapsed backwards onto the pillows and covered his face. He was getting just a bit too old to feel like a giddy twenty-something again.

It wasn’t long before he had to hit the bathroom, and Hieu rapped at the door.

“Hey – I’m coming in! Gotta take a leak!” he called.

Steam billowed out the moment he opened the door. His glasses fogged up instantly, a sheen of sweat forming all over his body. And here he’d thought his shower had been hot.

“Whew, it’s like a sauna in here!” Hieu said.

A satisfied purr of sorts from in the shower was the only answer he got. Hieu did his business, and while washing his hands, he stared absently into the foggy mirror before realizing he could just see Norman’s silhouette through the curtain.

A sight he’d been all too close to never seeing again.

Suddenly all those little things he’d taken for granted hit him like a tidal wave, and Hieu steadied himself at the sink.

“Peeking on me?” Rêu asked.

Hieu jolted. A single bloodshot eye stared out at him between the shower wall and the curtain, spooking him even further. A smile creased the folds around that eye, and it was out of sight again, the curtain falling back into place. That breathy laugh followed.

“Nope! No peeking! I’m out!” Hieu said.

He hurried from the bathroom, woozy between the heat and his own embarrassment. How was Rêu that comfortable with it being so hot?! Was that safe for their body?!

On cue, Rêu turned the shower off. The haze floating out of the bathroom accompanied his stark naked return, only using a towel to squeeze the moisture from his hair. Norman’s after-shower routine consisted of an air dry and a robe, but when the other side of the bed sagged, Rêu was still in the buff.

Hieu buried his face into his pillow.

Sure. Nothing he hadn’t seen before. But that giddiness hit Hieu all over again. Even all these years later, his husband was as deliriously handsome as ever. If he was being honest with himself, time only made him more so. Rêu let out a contented sigh and curled up with his own pillow. Watching the other get comfortable, Hieu’s eyes stung again. He sniffled, and wiped their corners with his thumbs. Hesitantly, Hieu reached out, gently running his nails up and down Rêu’s back.

Rêu peered over his shoulder and hummed questioningly.

“Missed you,” was all Hieu managed to get out.

He’d spent the last few days alone with the hurricane of his emotions, trying to get it all out before Norman came home. But still that swell of anxiety threatened to overtake him every time he realized how close he’d been to losing him. If Norman were like anybody else, he would have.

If Hieu could help it, he’d do his best to slow the hustle and bustle of modern life, and do his best to never take these moments for granted again.

He shifted closer, tentatively nuzzling Rêu’s back and taking in the scent of his body wash, the smoothness of his skin. Rêu leaned into the touch.

“Feels nice,” he mumbled.

Boldly, Hieu pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Rêu murmured in surprise and faced him, his lips parting.

Norman’s head, bisected down the middle, flashed in his mind for just a moment. Hieu stiffened at the gory visual.

That’d only happened because Norman was afraid.

Afraid he’d lose Hieu, specifically.

Hieu nodded resolutely to himself.

Rêu wasn’t going to hurt him.

He kissed Rêu again, and again, trailing kisses up his shoulder, his neck, suckling at his Adam’s apple, pressing them into the corners of his lips. Behind them sat those teeth, teeth never once turned on him with intent to harm.

Rêu leaned in, and they kissed, shyly at first, then more deeply. The exploratory kisses ventured lower. Hieu felt the graze of teeth at his neck and chest. Soft nipping at his pecs had him balling a fist in the other’s long, damp hair. Hieu pulled Rêu’s head back up, cradling his cheeks in his palms and running his thumbs over the stubble on his cheeks and upper lip, and they kissed until they were breathless.

Hieu’s fingers brushed Rêu’s hips -

Rêu seized his wrist.

Hieu stopped.

Rêu brought his hand up and tenderly kissed his knuckles. He was panting. Eager. Wanting. But there was a nervousness about him.

“No more than this until Minh is well again,” Rêu said.

“Yeah,” Hieu sighed.

He nestled against Rêu’s chest.

“I can wait,” he mumbled. “When he’s well again, I want to get to know both of you better.”

Rêu smiled against Hieu’s forehead.

“Of course,” he said.


Norman Nguyen, unbelievably, woke up.

And was he sore. He let out a low groan, twisting until he was upright in bed, head pounding. Pain rolled through him in waves for several minutes, before finally, mercifully, subsiding. Hieu shifted next to him.

“Rêu?” Hieu asked groggily.

“Huh? Rêu? Wh’bout him?” Norman asked, equally as groggy.

He rubbed a hand down his own face; the scratchiness of stubble that greeted him on his chin puzzled him. He was no slouch when it came to shaving – how had it gotten like this? Hieu bolted upright, pawing at his husband aggressively enough to startle Norman from his daze.

“Hieu, what’s wrong?!” he asked.

Hieu grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and put them on, looking Norman over with extreme scrutiny. The intensity of his gaze made Norman giggle nervously.

“What?! What’s that look for?” Norman asked.

“Norman, is it really you?”

Norman blinked in bafflement. “Yes, Hieu. It’s really me.”


Norman thought over everything Hieu relayed to him while he shaved. The heart attack was concerning enough, but-

“You met Rêu?” Norman asked.

“Yeah,” Hieu said.

“What’s he like?”

“What?! What are you asking me for? Don’t you two live together?”

“Well-”

Norman hissed softly, pulling the razor back from his chin. A sluggish line of blood oozed where he’d nicked himself; the shredded skin closed up soon after.

“Cut yourself?” Hieu asked.

“Little bit. It’s already healed, though,” Norman replied, dabbing the blood from his chin. “See?”

Hieu looked all around his face. “Wow. Rêu really is something.”

Norman found his cheeks burning, casting an aside glance into the mirror.

“Yeah, he is,” Norman said. “Even managed to take over my body. Didn’t know he could do that. It’s weird to think about.”

Hieu looked at him evenly from the bathroom door.

“You really don’t remember anything after you got home that day?” he asked.

“No. It’s like I just. Shut off,” Norman said. Uneasiness filled him then, and he let out a giggle. “Really, though – what’s he like when I’m not around?”

“He was a true gentleman, and he talks like you personally hung the moon in the sky,” Hieu said teasingly. “Is he different when you are around?”

Norman rolled his eyes, finally cracking a smile.

“All he ever does is whine about being tired and hungry,” he said. “And telling me to ‘chill out, maaan’ – he’s like a frat guy with permanent munchies.”

They both shared a laugh at that. Hieu smiled, this time more genuinely, and far more tenderly.

“I’m glad you’re back, Norm,” he said.

Hieu’s casual air crumbled all at once, face screwing up against tears. Instinctively, Norman reached out for him. Just as instinctively, Hieu fell into his arms, clinging to him as if his life depended on it. They held one another for a long time, before Hieu inhaled back a sob and pulled his hot, snotty face away from Norman’s shirt. Slowly, he calmed, and looked at Norman through tired eyes.

“I – no matter what happens, I want to get to know you. Both of you,” Hieu said.

Norman seemed to shrink into himself. “You sure? He doesn’t bother you?”

“No, he doesn’t bother me. Be kind of ridiculous to let him bother me this far into our relationship,” Hieu said. “Besides, he was with you long before I was, anyway.”

Norman’s cheeks warmed.

“Yeah,” he said. “Going on thirty-five years here.”

Hieu whistled, and he pat Norman’s shoulder playfully.

“Sounds like I got competition, then!” he said.

Norman pulled him into another hug, and smiled widely at him – so much so, it revealed those sharpening teeth. Hieu’s heart melted.

“Don’t be silly,” Norman said, holding him close. “We love you, most of all.”


Norman Nguyen sat in the living room, mulling over the essays his students turned in. He was finally back to work, and the subject of the essays – economic inequality – was a topic the class turned out passionate for, and before he knew it, he’d wiled away hours reading their thinkpieces-

Minh. Minh, stop grading papers.

Norman rubbed his temples, where a slight headache was beginning to form.

“Can’t. I’m on a roll here.”

Just for half an hour!

“Ugh. Why?” he mumbled. “I’m so close-”

Hungryyyy-

“I am not hungry. I just ate-”

On cue, a downright nauseating pang of hunger gripped his stomach. Norman glanced at his watch. As it’d turn out, he hadn’t just eaten, and it had, in fact, been hours since lunch. Norman rolled his head back against the couch cushions and let out a sigh.

“All right, all right - you win,” he drawled. “This time.”

He picked through the bowl of fruit on the kitchen counter, and picked out an apple. As he got to work peeling it, his hunger grew, as well as his excitement.

...On second thought, two apples wouldn’t hurt.

Four peeled and sliced apples soon rested on a plate before him. He bit into a slice, humming in a pleased manner as that cool sweetness hit his tongue.

“Does this offering satisfy his Majesty?” Norman asked sarcastically.

Rêu wouldn’t answer in a way he’d understand, but satiation and an eagerness for more filled him. Norman balanced the plate in his hands, and-

The phone began to ring.

He set the plate aside with disappointment, and picked up.

“Nguyen-Phan residence, Norman speaking,” he said.

“Norman! This is Dr. Herbert Sanderson-” the voice on the other line said.

Norman hung up the phone. It rang again. Norman took his time answering it, eating a few slices of his apples before doing so.

“Did you really just hang up on me?!” Sanderson blubbered.

“Yes, I did,” Norman said. “Betsy didn’t give you my number, did she?”

Sanderson hesitated. “No. Of course not. I’m visiting her, and I – well, I happened upon it in her address book. Anyway! That’s neither here nor there. I was hoping I could book you for an interview sometime? My schedule’s rather busy, so I was hoping-”

Norman cut in, “An interview for what?”

“I’m sure you recall the book I was writing? About the Ankhanum?”

Norman did recall – it was all Sanderson talked about in the months they’d taken up residence with Betsy.

“Not ringing a bell,” Norman said. “I’m not really interested in-”

“Please. Please. It’s of utmost importance that I-”

Norman hung up again, getting back to his apples. It wasn’t until it rang a third time he’d pick up again.

“Would you stop doing that?!” Sanderson asked.

“Only if you’re paying me for my time, and only if you’re allowing me to decide when to fit you into my busy schedule,” Norman said curtly.

Sanderson grumbled unintelligibly on the other side of the line.

“Fine. Of course,” he said through audibly grit teeth. “Now. When can you fit me in?”

Norman leisurely finished an apple’s worth of slices while he decided, murmuring all the while and keeping the other man on both the line and the edge of his seat.

“I won’t have any openings ‘til July,” Norman finally said.

“July?! But that’s months from-”

“I’m a teacher, Dr. Sanderson, it’s to be expected I won’t have much free time until school is out. Do you want this interview or not?”

“If you already knew you wouldn’t have time until summer, why did you – for God’s sake. Whatever. Yes, July is just fine.”

Norman smirked at the grit teeth frustration in the other’s voice while he polished off another apple.

“See you in July, then,” he said, and hung up the phone.


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