Line 3 to Central Station at 11:38

Two figures stood at the far ends of a bus station. It was late, the time of day usually only reserved for those looking for the silence that can never be granted in daylight. Roan too, standing at the left end of the station, enjoyed the hours when the noise of city life didn't tinge their thoughts in the persistent haze that shortened days, but stretched hours. They glanced at the stranger at the other end, at the person inspecting their fingernails in the faint glow of the street lights. The only downside of these times were reserved for those who had had a drink a little too far away from where they lived, they thought. Like themselves. So late, without anything to do, the pull their phone usually had on them had dulled to that of a habit one had long been trying to kick.

"Excuse me" the stranger said, barely glancing Roan's direction "You wouldn't happen to have a lighter?"

"Umm..." Roan patted themselves down. They didn't smoke, but several of their colleagues did. It was occasionally handy to have matches on hand. They found a half-empty packet in the inside pocket of their jacket and lit it in a well practiced motion. It was a habitual motion that usually saw use whenever Roan needed a favour.

"Oh" the stranger smiled a thin smile as they leaned a little closer and lit their cigarette "how cavalier." The comment took them off-guard. They weren't sure how to take it. The stranger offered them a cigarette as well, a motion just as practiced, judging by the ease they performed it with. Roan declined with a gesture. The stranger slipped the cigarette back into the carton with a knowing smile. Perhaps a hint as to the nature of the earlier comment.

"Thank you." the stranger returned to their earlier spot at the far end of the station.

"You can have the rest of them, if it's more convenient that way." Roan pretended not to have noticed anything.

"No, that won't be necessary. I'm meant to stop anyways. It's why I don't carry lighters."

Roan did a poor job at hiding their surprise "Why ask then?"

"I thought it would kill some time."

At the mention of time, Roan's eyes glanced back toward the backlit timetable. The both of them were expected to wait at least another twenty minutes. Judging by the fact that they hadn't spot their stranger use their phone once either, they guessed that they were probably similarly bored.

"You're taking number 3?"

The stranger nodded "All the way to central station, and then on to airport."

"Without luggage?"

"I travel light." the stranger offered them a handshake "I'm Lys, by the way."

"Roan" they shook the stranger's hand "Is that short for something?"

Lys laughed. It was subdued, maybe slightly uncomfortable "Eirlys."

"Oh."

"It's a mouthful, I know." they said "Hence why it calls for shortening."

"I didn't mean to pry."

"It's no trouble." Lys flicked some ash off the cigarette "My parents ran a flower shop."

"Interesting."

"I never used to think so."

Even through this short exchange, a clear picture of the stranger's character formed in Roan's mind.

"Where are you headed this late?" it was difficult for Roan to tell whether Lys was sincere in that question. Questions like these had always had a special place in Roan's heart for the way they cornered people when asked. Neither was interested in the answer, but there was exactly one socially acceptable way to respond to it.

"Home." Roan said.

"Such a long night? In the middle of the week?"

"Have you ever tried it?"

"I can't say I have."

"You should. It's liberating."

"Until the morning comes, right?"

"Well, that's a problem for future me, and future me can rightly shove it."

Lys and Roan managed to share a laugh at that. It felt a lot less funny than they probably made it look. Roan had always had trouble turning down invitations, and as they were rarely ever involved in planning, they often ended up having a long commute home. A pushover, one might have called them. It wasn't something they did on purpose by any stretch of the word, but it was learned behavior. They had learned that it was easier to play along with others, if the price was just an inconvenience, and that it made them a lot less lonely if they did.

"Do you keep a habit of drinking alone then?" this, too, might not have been a sincere question. Roan shook their head "No, I really only drink in company."

"And said company then makes a habit of leaving you at the bus station with suspiciously good looking strangers?" Lys swept their own hair back, as if demonstrating something.

"It happens once in a while." Roan's smile felt thin, almost transparent. There a was a short moment of recognition on Lys' expression. They expected, momenarily, that they would bring it up, but to Roan's surprise it didn't come to that. Lys finished their cigarette and flicked it into the bin just under the bus schedules. The conversation had petered out, leaving only the awkward sideways glances and the lingering aroma of tobacco and tar in the air.

"Where are you traveing to anyway?" Roan had never been able to stand silences like these.

"Just two towns over. But I want to be there by morning."

"So it's just a daytrip?"

"Hardly."

"You must travel a lot then."

Lys shrugged "I suppose. I can never seem to stay in one place for too long. Places tend to close in on you, and once they have you, you're probably never leaving again."

"What, like this bus station?" Roan jokingly knocked against the milky glass to their left.

"For example." Lys seemed serious "Next time your company leaves you at this bus station, won't this conversation colour whatever happens while you wait? The match you lit, the smell of tobacco and tar, the conversation between two people that would rather have been anywhere else?"

Roan furrowed their brow "And?"

Lys sighed, then laughed, then sighed again "The things we do to not be alone with ourselves, huh?"

They turned fully towards Roan for the first time during their conversation, that same expression of recognition slowly creeping back onto their face. Roan was taken aback by the prolonged eye contact Lys held.

"Or did." Lys relaxed, turned back towards the street. Tension visibly left their body "I've been where you are before." they paused. Roan wanted to cut them off, but nothing came to mind. "You orbit around these expectations, hoping not to be on your own for too long, and then you're here. At a bus station." their expression softened "Wishing you weren't."

Roan needed a moment to sort themself "I don't actually mind."

That expression Lys' face came back. Now they knew what it meant. It was silent disagreement. Just polite enough to forego vocalizing it.

"That much, I mean. Of course I'd rather be home, and next time before I tag along to a bar far away from my place I might think of what you said." Roan's tongue continued without them "The match I lit, the smell of tobacco and tar, the conversation between two people that would rather have been anywhere else, but probably benefitted from being at a bus station in the middle of the night. And maybe I'll decline."

Lys waited for them to continue and to their own surprise, Roan did "And so will you, I guess. Even if you're never back at this station. But maybe you'll remember tonight the next time you ask a stranger for a light, or when waiting at night on your own. Places are really just that, if you never allow yourself to stay. They're not the thing closing in on you."

Lys thought for a moment "Will you? Decline, I mean."

Roan angled their head sideways "Honestly, yeah."

The headlights of the bus announced the end of their wait. Still, the strangers kept looking for a reaction in each others' faces. The bus came to a stop and Roan stepped inside. Lys didn't move from her spot.

"Aren't you getting on?"

They shook their head "I'll take the next one."

Roan paid for their ticket. They turned to wave goodbye to Lys, but found the station empty already.