Nightmares

Episode 2.1

Hmm, another afternoon of a lazy summer day. Chirping of crickets. A cat stretches and yawns outside. Slow warm breeze swaying the trees. Boring. So I focus back on my boyfriend. Joshua and I are sitting on the floor, in his living room. I'm helping with his homework today. An assignment on the social relationships in medieval Europe. He hates history and I like it. 'Why do I have to study what is in the past?' he always says this about history. 'Because that's how you learn your mistakes,' and I answer him patiently every time. 

"What does it mean?" he asks me pointing a word at his notebook. "Armistice?"

"Oh, it's an agreement to end a war. Something like a truce," I feel a little proud whenever I answer him correctly.

After completing the assignment he draws the title in his elegant cursive handwriting.

"Finish?" I say, lying on my back on the floor.

"Yes," he lies down on my stretched arm.

We lie in silence for a while. Then I move, place a hand on his face, and kiss him. And I kiss him more. He lightly presses his palm on my chest.

His lips against mine. So soft. He reminds me of a flower. Ranunculus, an early spring bloom. Yes, he is a ranunculus. Beautiful and soft. 

I always kiss him so gently. I don't want to pluck the petals of this flower. That's why I control myself from going further. Although he never complains, I know he gets uncomfortable. Reminds me of the time when I touched his bare stomach and he flinched. So it's a no-no. He likes kissing me though.

"You're warm," he said

I chuckle, "You like warm?"

He nods and smiles. That's the way I know what he likes. You ask him and if he smiles, then it's clicked. "How about a cold coffee?" I say, grinning. It made him laugh. 

"Ok, I'll make it," he says. I kissed him again before he went to the kitchen. I sigh, it surely was hot outside. I pick up his notes from the table, he made a cute smiley emoji in a corner of the page. 

Then I hear the sound of a glass breaking. After a second, I hear a scream. It was Joshua. He's screaming. Why? I quickly rushed to the kitchen. A mug was on the floor, broken into pieces, coffee flowing on the white tiles. And Joshua was standing in the pool of that mess, staring at the blood dripping from his left hand. 

"Oh my god, Jo-" I stop myself. 

'You don't get panic in front of him. You'll scare him more.'

 I approach him easily. "Joshua?" 

He looked at me with tearful eyes, his face so pale and mouth agape, "I... I-I'm sorry...I...I got scared a-and,"

"Hey, it's okay, baby. It's fine, it's fine. Just a mug is broken," I try to say in my most mellow voice. He blinks and tears start flowing down his face, he tries to wipe it and gets his face smudged in his own blood. No, it's not good. It's not good at all. He shouldn't cry. His tears are so precious. My little flower. A petal has broken.

"Come with me," I take his uninjured hand, "Careful," and bring him to the bathroom. Crimson drops staining the floor behind us. I put his hand under flowing water, then wash the blood from his face. "Don't worry, we'll patch it up and it'll be good as before," I assure him.

But the thing that is confusing me is how he got a cut in the middle of his hand, even if he tried to pick up the broken pieces. It's so straight, sharp, and long as if made by someone.

And he got scared? Of what?

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