Strange Clouds

“What do you mean, I have to come back?”

Fali listened from the dining table as Mele’s voice rose across the room. She was on the landline - one of those old corded ones that came with the house, since there was no reception out here. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but her frustration carried clearly through the quiet morning air.

“I’m supposed to have a year off! It’s only been a month!”

His hands worked on autopilot. French toast sizzled in the pan, and a glass bottle of maple syrup stood ready beside it. Breakfast was almost done, but judging by her tone, it wasn’t the right moment to serve it.

“This isn’t fair! There’s got to be a law against this or something!”

He glanced her way - then immediately looked away again. She was fuming, her expression sharp enough to send shivers down the spine of even a hardened soldier. Fali turned back to his cooking, the quiet hiss of butter doing little to drown out the storm behind him.

“What if I refuse? What happens then, huh?”
A pause.
“You can’t do that! Can you?”

Her voice faltered. A long sigh followed.
“Alright… I’ll do as you say…”

He wasn’t sure what to do in moments like this. He’d faced gunfire and loss - but someone else’s frustration, someone he cared about, was a new kind of helplessness.

Then her next words caught his attention.

“Bring Fali? Why?”

He turned, meeting her eyes just as she turned toward him. Confusion clouded her face as the tinny voice on the other end continued to speak.

“I mean, I can ask him, but I don’t know what he’ll say.”

He raised an eyebrow. She gave a half-shrug, the phone still pressed to her ear, then sighed once more.
“Alright. I’ll call you back.”

She set the receiver down with a soft clack and exhaled deeply.
“I’ve been called back to attend a fundraiser event.”

He switched off the stove, the sweet smell of French toast filling the air.
“What for?”

“People who lost a lot during the war.”

He nodded slowly, plating their breakfast and drizzling syrup in careful, swirling lines.
“I’m guessing they want you to perform, not just attend?”

She groaned.
“Yup.”

He carried both plates to the table and set one in front of her.
“Then why do they want me?”

“Thank you. They said they want you to be a guest speaker, apparently.”

“Me?”

He chuckled, half in disbelief, as he sat down. She nodded, offering a tired but grateful smile.
“Yeah, you. I think it was a spur-of-the-moment idea, but the request’s already been made.”

He shrugged lightly.
“I don’t exactly want to, but I do like the cause behind it.”

“Same,” she murmured. “I feel the same.”

Her shoulders slumped.
“Oh man… I just wanted to spend my time out here with you…”

He smiled softly.
“We can come back. It’s just one event, right?”

She nodded, then blinked in surprise.
“Wait, you’ll do it?”

He smiled again.
“Only if you do.”

Her eyes lit up, and for the first time since the call, her whole expression brightened.
“Okay then. We’ll do it.”

He smiled back, but his mind tripped over the next thought.
“What about the media? They’ll be all over it.”

She nodded, her gaze steady.
“I’ve thought about that. But honestly? The rumours are already out there.”

A small, defiant smile spread across her lips.
“And I don’t care anymore.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected - not from shock, but from how much he believed her.

“Let’s announce it to the world,” she said softly, eyes locked with his. “And not give a single damn about what they think.”

The steam from the plates curled gently between them, carrying the scent of maple and toasted bread. Neither moved to eat. They just sat there, staring across the table - the decision hanging between them like a quiet, shared promise.

“Are you watching me, love?…”
The tune from Mele’s guitar drifted softly through the room as she sang, her voice gentle and melodic.

“Or have your eyes gone shy, filtering… ugh, no, that doesn’t sound right…”

The music cut off mid-bar as she frowned and began tweaking something on the small tablet balanced beside her. Her fingers moved deftly across the glowing screen, filled with notes and half-finished lyrics. After a few seconds, she picked up her guitar again, nestling it back onto her lap.

“Or have your eyes gone shy, flickering down deep…”
She paused, smiling. “There we go.”

The guitar fell silent again as she crossed something out, her face glowing with satisfaction.

From the dining table, Fali watched her, his laptop forgotten in front of him, its fans hissing idly. He couldn’t help but smile. She found such joy in such small things - and though it seemed trivial, he knew how much this meant to her. She was finally making progress on something she’d been dreaming of for years.

Then she looked over, catching his gaze. He froze as she grinned, a soft giggle escaping her lips.

“Do you like it?”

He blinked, recovering as quickly as he could.
“Yeah. I do. What’s it about?”

She shrugged lightly.
“Myself, kind of.”

He tilted his head in curiosity, but she didn’t elaborate. He sighed good-naturedly.
“Trying to get it done before the event?”

Their manager had called earlier that morning. The event was only a couple of days away. They’d drive there themselves, stay in a hotel with two bedrooms, and have the day before to explore the city. Fali was looking forward to it - it was a new place, and the idea of a quiet outing with Mele, even in a crowd, felt oddly exciting.

She shook her head.
“No. But it’s fun to dream, anyway.”

He smiled, but she spoke again before he could reply.
“Can we just leave most of our stuff here? We’ll be back soon, and it’ll be easier to just bring the essentials.”

He nodded.
“Sure. You gonna start packing?”

She leaned back, strumming a few idle notes.
“Soon.”

Then she grinned.
“Or maybe not soon. We’ll see.”

He chuckled as she turned her attention back to the guitar, the melody restarting, soft and meandering. He watched her for a few moments longer, the way the lamplight glinted off her hair, the quiet look of focus on her face.

Then, reluctantly, he returned to his laptop. The LAN cable trailing from the wall gave him access to the outside world again. He’d already looked up details about the fundraiser - its cause, its sponsors - and he did genuinely like what it stood for. But there was something about it, some nagging unease he couldn’t shake.

Probably just my old military instincts, he thought.

Still, the feeling lingered.

He exhaled slowly, shaking it off as he switched back to his work tab, pretending to focus even as his mind drifted elsewhere - to Mele, the city, and the days ahead that already felt like something out of a dream.