Red light

21. A little bit like earth and something lemony (Tobirama)

I pulled my softest, most comfortable sweater over my head. It was black, thick, with an inside that reminded me of marshmallows. I smelled it, tried to imagine Izuna's smell on it. Not his cologne, which did smell fantastic, but his smell. A little bit like earth and something lemony.

I went to the kitchen, opened the drawer where I had cat food. Betty still spent most of her days behind the washing machine in the bathroom. When I went there, she demonstratively walked out, and when I went out, she went back in again. I was tempted to feed her at her usual place in the kitchen to show her she couldn't boss me around, but thought better of it and put her food behind the washing machine each morning and evening; I wanted to show her I respected her need to distance herself from me. Even so, she refused to eat for a good hour or so, which worried me; she had a very sensitive stomach and once, when I had only had her a little while, she almost died because of it.

As I put my light summer jacket on, a marine blue, short thing from Tommy Hilfiger that I had looked forward to wearing next to Izuna as we walked hand-in-hand in the summer sun eating ice cream, I tried to conjure up in my mind what on earth had happened that day. It wasn't the first time I had tried remembering. Rather, it was the hundredth time, but there was still nothing. I had absolutely no memory of what had happened before or during I'd gone berserk in my apartment. I didn't even remember how Izuna had gotten into my home. The last thing I remembered from that day was being in the shower, probably about an hour or so before Izuna came. 

I had finally gone to bed after he'd left, and spent the entire day after cleaning, making up a list of all the vases I had broken so I could make new ones. I knew my own worth as an artist, and realised I had broken ceramics worth thousands and thousands of dollars. 

I tried not to think about it or I would break just like my vases had.

I stepped out of my apartment, still deep in thought. Not remembering what had happened scared me more than I could describe. I thought about how I had lost it when I poured wax on Izuna, burning my own hand until he used our safe word, not for himself but for me. I thought about when I had lost it and physically abused the brunette. And now this...

I looked up on the trees as I walked through the city centre, hands in my pockets. I needed to get professional help. And I was scared of trying to remember so vigorously that I conjured up images in my mind that weren't true, just because my soul was so desperate to fill in the gaps. What if I thought I remembered was something much worse than the truth? Or worse, what if what I thought I remembered was much milder?

I came to the hotel, a small but beautiful and picturesque one where I was meeting Will to see how he filmed. The hotel was full of pastel colours and flowers; I knew he would never chose this hotel to film with me. I thought that this film might be soft and careful, which made me feel relief; maybe, it wouldn't be so bad. I took my phone out, called Will, got the floor and room number. I came in.

"I never thought I'd see this day."

It was Will, greeting me.

But I was too busy taking in what I saw.

The room was amazing, in a soothing pastel blue and full of dried flowers and dark wooden furniture. The cameras destroyed the atmosphere a little, but there were no lights; the natural light coming from the big windows was enough.

And next to the bed stood a very, very familiar man, almost as tall as me, muscular, with brown hair and glasses.

The nerd I'd seen fuck Izuna when I had searched him.

He smiled a crooked smile at me.

"Are you gonna join?"

Absolutely fucking not, I though.