Triangle Rings

I'm not a paradox, and he's not a paradox, but whatever sort of friendship we have can only be called paradoxical. Really, I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Happy birthday," he says, his arm loosely around my shoulders, just enough affection to keep me from slipping into paranoia, but not enough to really signify anything more.

"It's not my birthday."

"Yes it is. And I got you a present."

"It's not my birthday."

"Shut up and take it."

He sits down abruptly, ending or at least pausing the walk we hadn't decided on taking. I sit down next to him and our shoulders touch, reminding me he's not a phantom and won't disappear in the hasty tapping of the delete key.

"I thought you might like something untraditional," he says, his tone light. He's very good at keeping any emotion but laziness from his voice. I'm not; I don't even know how to try.

"It's not my birthday."

"Would you stop arguing? Or I'll take it back and won't care to see you for awhile."

I know that's a lie, partly because he's too soft-hearted to stay away from me for long. Sometimes the guilt climbs back into my heart and that's when the paranoia plays it's tune, but he'll always end it with a smile because he's sort of amazing like that.

He places a little box into my hand. "Open it!"

"I didn't get you anything."

"Why would you have? You can later. Nothing material though. From you I accept strictly hugs and, on especially thank-worthy occasions, kisses. Now open your present or I'll fall asleep waiting."

"Yes sir."

A few pleasant moments are spent attempting to open the little box and listening to his gentle chatter. He seems to find it necessary to keep a steady stream of words in all the blank spaces when I don't talk.

The box doesn't open and at last I give it back to him and rest my head against his shoulder, because that was maybe even better than a present for my non-birthday.

"No, don't give up, idiot." He kisses the side of my head and puts it back in my hands. "I was having fun and I'm waiting to see how long it will take you to ask me what's in it."

I smile because I can't help it. Right now I don't care what's in it because I'm happy just to be with him, and I don't even care how corny I am.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

I lean my head back and he looks at me, and his eyes are laughing.

"What's in it?"

His arm around my shoulders tightens and when he kisses me I think I might learn how to fly from that feeling.

"Happy birthday."