Kairos - Blood (MxM) | Book 2 | ✅

48.Take Me Back

Back to my place. Back to where I'd been before.

The neon lights outside my window changed color and I muttered the pattern to myself.

"Red." Wait. "Now, yellow." Wait again. "Blue."

I'd made the bed and put fresh sheets on it. But now I sprawled on the floor and let the neon lights bathe my numb body in their colors.

Creak! The door from the apartment below me opened and closed.

I waited in silence for the inevitable knock on my door.

Knock-knock. Henry. It was the fourth time that he came by to check up on me.

Knock-knock. Persistent little bugger.

Knock-knock. I hadn't answered the last three times he had come by and knocked on my door, why did he think I'd answer this time?

Knock-knock.

Fuck you, Henry!

Reluctantly, I got up from my comfortable spot on the floor and then walked over to the door. Henry gawked and took a step back as I left the apartment. I barely looked at him since I had no intention of speaking to him. Or at all for that matter. I only wanted a cigarette.

"Sir," he said following me to the roof. "I have to change that bandage."

I leaned against the roof ledge and a cigarette hung from between my lips. I patted my jeans and shirt, looking for a lighter.

"You need a coat, or you'll freeze to death," Henry whispered.

Something warm and heavy set on my shoulders — his jacket.

Henry moved to stand by my side and brought up a lighter close to my cig. I puffed and the ember came to life, bright and strong in the dead of night.

Silence again. I'm drowning in it and not a part of me wants to swim up to the surface. What's the point?

My right hand ached and itched as if tiny serpents slithered across the palm and blew fire on the stump where my little finger now ended unnaturally short.

A soft touch shrouded my maimed hand as Henry brought it up between his cradling fingers.

"After your smoke, may I, please, change the bandage?" he spoke gently and in soft tones which I didn't deserve.

My eyes welled up so I looked away from him and at the dark landscape of the city, dotted with senseless lights and unnaturally vibrant against the black canvas of the world.

I had been here before. In this place. Not the rooftop or the building. But the silence. Emotions died here and floated past me like corpses going up to the surface, bloated and distorted by muteness.

After my parents' death, I had refused to speak for a while. I had drowned in silence and let my emotions die. Was I doing it again?

My right hand remained in Henry's grasp and I made no gesture to retract it nor did I utter any word.

"I'll take that as a yes," he concluded and kissed my thumb as his fingers ran through my overgrown hair.

Smoking provided no comfort and made me light-headed. I stomped on what was left of the cigarette and turned around letting Henry's jacket slip from my shoulders. With my left hand, I held it up for him to take. Then my feet took me back down to my place.

Only this time, I left the door wide opened and turned on the lights. I waited for Henry at the kitchen table.

He looked at me and understood.