Kill Me, Kiss Me

THIRTY FIVE

"WHAT did I say?"

Theo groaned and turned, clapping a hand over his ears. The hum of warmth drew sluggishly through his veins, and his limbs refused to shift the slightest even though the breath of words pressed faintly against his mind.

"...Sleep." Theo mumbled.

"What did I say yesterday?" The voice pressed on relentlessly.

Cold hands yanked the warmth from him, threading through his short hair and pulling mercilessly until pain ripped through his scalp like knives were sawing through his skull. Theo's eyes shot open, and he pulled against Keir's hands, scrabbling up on the mattress. The happenings from last night vaulted through his head, shot on shot like a montage playing at twice the speed - the questions, the sprawling shadows, Keir's reddened eyes, the shaking, the anger, the anger, Setton, Setton, Setton...

He could think of nothing else.

"Tell me."

So cold it burnt, Keir's voice burrowed into him, a pinnacle of ice that threatened to freeze his heart and shatter it. Those eyes were not reddened the way they were yesterday, they were not raw with sorrow and despair, they were bloodshot, a frozen-over hell, and they looked upon him like he was a worthless wretch. Back again, was Keir's apathetic expression, but today of all days, it was even more frighteningly empty like all emotion had been carved out of him, all except for that gaze.

That gaze was disgust. That gaze pushed him straight into the abyss of hell and told him he was not worth a single dime.

It was like they'd gone straight back to their first day. No, perhaps even further back, at least Keir had shown him interest in their first meeting.

Theo's eyes flickered over Keir's face to the top of his head, 75%. His chest seized the way it had done yesterday, and again, that wave of helplessness and fatigue crashed into him. Someone tell him, why was it heightened again? He'd not even been Theodore Harrow yesterday, he'd been acting as Murray, and yet that gauge had been fixedly lower. Now it was 5% higher for no reason whatsoever.

The damned thing must be broken, Keir looked as if he wanted to kill someone. It was impossible that they could be even closer than they had been yesterday when the man was listening to his every whim.

"Well?" Keir gave another tug, yanking his face closer, "Talk."

Theo made no expression, only said simply, "You were drunk."

"Do I look like I don't know that? What happened?"

A tinge of bitterness slid down Theo's throat. Keir didn't remember. Of course the man didn't remember, if Keir did, he'd be dead by now, but... The relief didn't flood him in comfort. There was a niggling frustration that bit bitterly into his gut and made him want to dig his fingers into the sheets to tear them apart.

Looking away from Keir, Theo stared up at the ceiling, "Nothing happened."

"Nothing happened." Keir echoed slowly, biting each syllable precisely like he was trying to rip the sounds into shreds, "You ruined my shirt and there's a slash on my piano."

Theo turned to study Keir, "Don't you have a camera in here?"

    Keir's jaws clenched, and silence dragged through the room like a python.

    "Do you usually drink this much?"

    Snap. Keir's hands locked tightly around Theo's jaw, digging his fingers into the soft flesh either side.