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It was an oddity that he hadn't noticed until now; like the ache behind his eyes that he had happily ignored until he was suddenly aware of what was causing it.
The light in this place, in this world, was too bright for his eyes. He vaguely knew the science of it: either the sun in his home was too far away, or not bright enough, or just of a completely different sort to the one that existed in this world to create so much bloody green.
It irritated him that he instinctively knew the name to a colour that he had had no awareness of for the vast proportion of his life. His whole world had existed in the dullest of shades and tones and that had been perfectly fine with him.
It made no sense to him how much energy this world put into all its colour. But where people decided to place their focus and energy had often made little sense to him; like the amount of energy sentient beings seemed to put into something as animalistic and primal as sex. This had made no sense to him at all, until suddenly it had. Perhaps to a greater level than the average sentient being.
He was putting himself out a bowl of ice cream when he was suddenly confronted with a memory of sucking ice cream off of a woman's breast while her hand was wrapped around his-
He put his bowl in the sink and threw the entire tub of ice cream away.
Which was a ridiculous reaction to have because sex was a natural process that people have a natural interest and investment in.
Except that had always meant people that weren't him.
It was ridiculous that he felt violated over something that he had been an active and eager participant in. He was trying not to think about the amount of women in this town that had seen him naked.
He tells himself that this is just one small thing on top of so many other things - and it is. It is. But it's also one thing on top of so many other things, which makes it another reason to hole himself up in his office and drink until he can't remember how long he spent not knowing his own name.
When he gets past what he was mentally referring to as his 'drinking everyday' stage of dealing, he makes an effort to go to the diner every day, just so that he's being somewhere other then his home or the hospital.
Ruby serves him, and when she has time, she stays at his table for a while to chat. He appreciates it; it's nice to talk to someone about something other than the hospital or how much he's apparently fucked up. It occurs to him one day as she's sitting across from him, hands playing with a tea towel she's supposed to be wiping the bench with, that he likes her.
He goes home that night and spends a long time panicking that Regina's curse hasn't fully lifted from him. He decides that the two drinks he downs are an adequate response to this thought. They also allow him to calm down enough to think about it rationally.
He thinks about Ruby. He thinks about her hands playing with the tea towel like its something she does without thought or awareness of. He thinks the way she smiles. He thinks about the way she looked at him when she told him about her boyfriend, like it was a peace offering. Like they were the same. Then he consciously makes himself think about her, touching him. Her naked and touching him. Her wrapping her hand around his dick - and he so violently rebels against this thought that he simultaneously feels like he needs another drink and like he never has to drink again. Because this is him. This is him liking someone, but not wanting them. He feels ridiculously happy and childish at this revelation.
The next morning when Ruby takes his order, her fingers wrapped around her pen, he feels momentarily disgusted at what he imagined those finger doing for a brief moment the night before, but he dismisses it when she smiles.
When she mentions the small school fate going on in the town square (they had decided to run it despite the recent events in the town) and asks if he'd like to go with her, he smiles back and says, "Yes".