You're My Rock - 1. You're My Rock

Closing the car door behind me, I slumped in the bucket seat of my rolling heap. “That fucking sucked!”

The amount of ignorant people I dealt with today bothered me deeply, but what should I have expected? Fast food… Jesus Christ and the fuckin’ donkey! Was it always this difficult? Did I never pay attention to what these workers went through on a daily basis before this? The common misconception that fast food employees just flip burgers needs to be struck down and burned with kerosene. No, thermite! The training videos were complete lies. Three people on a sandwich-making line? What a joke!

I had five minutes to memorize the register's confusing touchscreen and was immediately shipped to the drive-through window. Taking orders, making drinks, and cashing out the people is too much for one person to handle. Not ten steps away was another window for the payments, but it remained unmanned for the last two years, apparently. The manager was stuck bouncing between the flat top grill and the line. Steph bounced between the front counter and sticking all the drive-through food in bags. Throw in the fact every customer inside was huffing and puffing at our speed, I was ready to chuck a chicken patty at ‘em. Sorry, folks. If that precious drive-time went over two minutes, we were all getting written up.

I threw back my head against the rest. Exhausted was an inadequate word. My muscles felt sapped. My spirit drained.

Couch. I wanted my couch. The Xbox, headset cranked up, and an ice-cold Mom Water. Which flavor did I have at home? It didn’t matter, I required a couple. I turned the key and drove. The traffic blurred by. Passing each of my new employer’s competitors, I cringed. Their different menu items sent shivers down my spine. Hell, Wendy’s had a loaded nacho burger. Only the Nine Divines knew what evil corporate conference meeting came up with that. I mean, come on. The sandwich maker would need to coordinate with fry station for each burger made. That meant two or three steps taken. That’s a crucial ten, twenty seconds!

I shook my head. Nope, done thinking about that hellhole.

Halfway home, my gaming dream became an afterthought. Adrien should be waking soon. The question was where he fell asleep when I left for work. We had different work schedules, but I loved that goofball. Somehow, I fell for a guy who worked third-shift. We mostly saw each other in passing, but we always found time together. The nights with him were always magical. At a stoplight, I checked the picture with his work schedule.

Yes! He was off. I could really use a date night. Maybe a long walk at the riverfront park. Even a dinner at Denny’s sounded romantic.

Parking in the apartment complex, I set my car alarm and fished for my key. The moment I opened the door, I saw him. Arm draped over the back of the couch and head resting against the wall, he was sleeping like a baby. His skin was pale as granite, and not a single lock of hair moved. Knowing a tornado wouldn’t wake him, I turned on the TV and Xbox before hopping in the shower. I felt the layers of grease pour off my arms as I scrubbed. Clean and refreshed, I plopped on the sturdy couch and picked up the controller. The dimming sunlight barely seeped through the blinds, telling me I had an hour or two to myself.

A few minutes later, I glanced at Adrien’s exposed thigh. My mischievous mind whirred to life. Time was of the essence. I paused Dungeon Siege III and sprung into action. Digging through the guest bedroom closet, I found my old Snoopy hat and gently slid it on Adrien's wide head. To add to the costume, I raided the linens and wrapped a white sheet around his bulky body. Carefully tucking the sides underneath him, I smiled. “Perfect,” I whispered as I played with the hat’s floppy, black ears.

I returned to my game and waited. Light faded from the window. Once darkness filled the sky, so did Adrien’s face. His stony skin faded, and his natural umber complexion came to life. I watched as his chest inflated as he began to breathe. He opened his eyes, glanced at me, and discovered he was in a cocoon.

“Really? Snoopy, again?”

“What can I say,” I replied, amused. “You looked adorable the first time.”

He chuckled, his deep tone resonating. “And now?”

“Still adorable.”

Adrien wriggled out of his confines and rose. “Well, I’m up. How about dinner? If we hurry, we can make it to the Lure.”

My feet couldn’t move fast enough. Forget all-you-can-eat pancakes. I needed that salmon! My mouth watered as I hastily picked out an outfit.

“Red or blue?” Adrien asked, holding up two button-downs.

“Blue. You wear too much red.”

“Red it is, then.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. We shared a look, only to lean for a kiss. It was one of our little relationship quirks. He recognized I had an innate sense of fashion, only to blatantly pick out clothes that kind of match. As I slid my dress shoes on, I glanced at his vibrant red shirt, black pants, and black blazer. “Radio Shack CEO,” I thought.

A short drive later, we were seated rather quickly. When Adrien asked for the wine menu, I raised an eyebrow. “Look at you, big spender,” I remarked when the waitress left. “What’s the celebration?”

“No reason, just thought a glass would be nice. How about you pick one when she gets back?”

“Unless they have something sweet, no thanks.”

The waitress returned, and Adrien flashed the placard. “See, Riesling.”

I took off my glasses and wiped them on my jacket sleeve. “Which one is that again?”

“Kung Fu Girl.”

Remembering the name, I cooed. “Oh, that one! Yeah, I’ll take a glass of that.”

“Sir,” the waitress stressed in a hushed tone, “that’s not the brand we serve.”

Adrien handed back the menu. “Sorry, that’s the only way he remembers stuff.”

“Wine-o,” I snarked.

She giggled and asked if we wanted an appetizer, to which we eagerly ordered the fried crab Rangoon roll.

“So,” Adrien started, “how was your first day?”

I went into intricate detail of the insane shift. With each ridiculous line I provided, his smile eased me. There were times I thought I sounded insane in my telling. Between statements, the waitress took our entrée orders. “Seriously, these people asked if we could fill their giant gas station jugs for them.”

“That’s wild. You know you can go back to retail, right? I can support you until you find something more comfortable.”

Sighing, I reclined in my stiff chair. “I know, I just don’t like relying on you too much. This is only temporary, just until I get a proper interview lined up. You know these things take way too long nowadays.”

Adrien went silent. He continued to stare at me, even after I asked, “Babe, you good?”

“That’s what I love about you. So resilient. Day after day, I remind you you don’t have to work.”

I shrugged. “Sorry that I’m not cut out to be a trophy wife.”

His eyes shined as he scooted his chair closer to me. “I’m not so sure. Not very many would fall for a monster like me.”

“You’re not a monster, Addy.”

I noticed his lip quivering as he caressed my hand. “Then I hope you’d help me become a happy man.”

He rose, stepped away from his seat, then dropped to one knee before me. Time stood still, and I barely heard the other patrons gasp. All the air left my lungs as Adrien beamed. His hand moved in slow motion as he brandished a burgundy box. He pulled back the top, showcasing a gray metal band with a crimson stripe in the middle.

“Elliot Robert Turner, would you honor me and be my husband?”

In a split second, every critical memory I had with Adrien flashed before my eyes. Meeting after texting each other on Grindr. Going on our first official date after banging each others’ brains out. The night he picked me up when my car overheated. When I held him as his mother passed away. Our one-year anniversary when he revealed he was a gargoyle. The first night we slept together was rough, especially when I couldn't wake him once he turned to stone. Still, I knew he was always there, and that comforted me.

My answer came naturally as tears welled. “Of course. You’re my rock."