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Martin sighed, clutching the thermos of tea in his hands. He relished in the feeling of the heat from the cup burning into his palms. It was the only sense of warmth there amidst the fog and the Lonely. He wanted that warmth, the heat, even if it stung his hands.
They were sitting on a bench overlooking the endless still waters of a lake or an ocean, or some sort of body of water that just seemed to stretch on forever and forever… kissing the sickly, pale horizon. Fog loomed up around them and the grass and ground was heavy with dew, to the point where Martin could feel the cold water sneaking into his trainers and soaking his socks. The air was cold too, chilling his lungs in a familiar but also uncomfortable manner.
Behind them, almost far away, there was the sound of voices and the occasional laugh. So far away, but so close there were people enjoying themselves, enjoying the company of each other. Martin couldn't find it in himself to turn around and look at the people, he appreciated being far away from them.
Slowly, Martin raised the thermos of tea to his lips and took a drink. He enjoyed the hot warmth the tea brought his body, shivering as the liquid twisted down his throat and fell into his stomach. However, the satisfaction of the warmth it brought was canceled out by the fact that it was Oolong. Oversteeped Oolong at that. The taste was incredibly bitter and strong, filling Martin's mouth with a sort of gross nostalgia. He grimaced and passed the thermos to Peter Lukas, who was seated next to him.
That's how they had been for hours now, or it might have been just a few minutes. Martin couldn't tell, time slowed here and ran together. Everything was drawn out while being fast forwarded at the same time. The Lonely was especially good at that trick of time. All the Fears were, but the Lonely was the best at it. When in the seat of loneliness a year could pass in the blink of an eye and you would never know.
As they exchanged the thermos between each other every so often, the drink inside changed. Oolong tea for Martin, and incredibly watered down whiskey for Lukas. The Lonely couldn't make them too at peace in its lonesome embrace afterall. You had to suffer at least a little to feel the strongest effects of the Lonely.
A question had been tumbling around in Martin's mind for some time. He almost hated to ask it, it was so quiet there, so peaceful. But the squishing feeling of ice cold water drenching his socks compelled him to find a way to distract himself from the awful feeling, even if it meant breaking the wonderful silence. "What-" Martin's voice was quiet, almost hoarse, like he hadn't spoken in a long time. "Why do you like it…? Being alone?"
The way Lukas looked at Martin, it was almost as if he forgot he was there. He smiled softly, looking out to the body of water before them. "It's…." He breathed slowly, giving the thermos in his hand a gentle shake. The faint sound of nearly melted ice cubes clicking around inside sounded out like an echo over them. "Comfortable, I suppose. It's all I've known."
Martin nodded. He drew his feet up onto the bench and squished his body, laying his head on his knees and wrapping his arms around his legs. It wasn't comfortable sitting like that, but Martin wanted to feel small. He wanted to feel the closeness of himself. The Lonely was such an intimate thing, and he hated to be so close to Lukas especially here of all places, but…. They were stuck. "It's like that for me too."
Lukas passed Martin the thermos and Martin held it against his legs, not drinking it but letting it warm up his skin a little. Being alone was all Martin had known. Not fitting in to places properly, being excluded and not wanted… All of those things were painful, but if you chose to be alone and didn't let yourself fall into those uncomfortable situations… Well, it was better. It was safe. You were indestructible on your own, no outside influence could bother you if you just hid.
"It's nice here." Martin whispered. "Just cold." The heat from the thermos wasn't enough to warm his legs or his hands for that matter. Still, it was the only source of heat he had in the cold, foggy terrain of the Lonely.
"You're always cold when you're alone." Mumbled Lukas. "It's better that way, better than feeling warm. Warmth is too much. The cold can ground you when you're alone. It makes you conscious of yourself."
A part of Martin didn't know if he wanted to be conscious of himself.
Martin took the thermos and pressed it to his cheek. It warmed the cool flesh of his face, but as soon as he moved the thermos to put it on the other side of his face, his cheek felt colder than before.
An unconscious self couldn't feel cold, couldn't feel lonely. Maybe that was why the Lonely kept it cold, to keep them aware of its presence. As if Martin could ever forget about how alone he was.