Thin Ice (M/M Transmigration)

Chapter 14

He ate in silence. Isaac didn't say a word the entire time that he was eating and by the time he had finished, Cale looked up to find that Calla's father had picked up the book he'd been reading, leafing through the pages absentmindedly. Frowning, Cale set down the spoon and placed the tray back on the table. "What are you doing?" he asked.

Isaac held out the book toward Cale. "I simply wished to see what book you were reading," he said. Cale took the book and let it rest on his lap, his fingers tracing the edges of it.

He wasn't sure what to say to Isaac. He never was. Cale didn't know what it was about the man that made him so hard to talk to, but every time they were alone together, Cale clammed up like he couldn't speak. He lost, instantly, to that voice in his head that claimed that nothing he said mattered, that he shouldn't bother the man with something so insignificant as him. That was a stupid voice that he ignored on principle, but it was always so much louder around this man.

Had it been like this for Calla, too?

Cale had tried so hard, back when he first woke up in this body, to stay away from Isaac and Mariana. He hadn't wanted to interact with them, hadn't wanted to alert them to the fact that he was essentially possessing their son's body. He had tried so hard, and agonized so much over what could happen.

But he'd been interacting with them daily for weeks now, and nothing had. By all accounts, they hadn't noticed anything amiss.

What did say about them? About Calla? About this whole situation?

Evidently, Cale acted similarly enough to Calla that no suspicions were raised. He hadn't intended to, he knew hardly anything about Calla, but he had. And it must be a close similarity too, not just a passing one, for Calla's own parents to not notice. Every interesting he'd had with them said that they loved their son fiercely. And yet, they didn't notice when he was replaced by a stranger.

That meant that outwardly, Cale acted in much the same manner as Calla. Outwardly, their personalities were similar enough to confuse others. Outwardly, Cale had managed to do what he never thought he could; act like Calla.

The thought was nauseating.

Cale gagged and leaned over his lap, the book digging into his stomach as he dry-heaved.

He didn't want to replace Calla. He didn't want to act like him. He didn't want to steal his place! It was despicable and nauseating and it made his toes curl with disgust.

Cale didn't understand how all those main characters in transmigrations stories did it, how they could just wake up in another person's body and steal their whole life. How they could just go on and pretend to be someone's child, their lover, their spouse, their parent. How could anyone do that?

"Do you require assistance?" Isaac asked.

Cale shuddered, hiding his face in his hands. He swallowed the saliva that had been pooling in his mouth and shook his head, electing not to say anything. He waited to see what Isaac would do while he tried to keep his dry-heaving to a minimum.

Isaac stood up; Cale could hear him moving, the rustling of his clothes and the sound of his footsteps. Finding himself holding his breath despite the fact that he was fairly certain that Isaac wouldn't hurt him, Cale waited to see what he was doing. He heard him sit down next to him on the couch. Carefully, the book still cutting into his stomach was pulled away from him and Cale breathed a little easier when he was released from the pain of it.

Quietly, Isaac asked, "Should I fetch your mother?"

Cale squeezed out a faint, "No."

If they just waited, it would pass. It wasn't even a reaction from his sickness—which he stood by that he was getting better from—but rather him thinking unfortunate thoughts. Waiting for it to pass was really the only thing to do.