What's left (残り物)

18. Into the ground

Boris turns on the screen and with a rising hum it's screen colors up. It emits a rising dialogue with two people on the screen. I watch it all sideways as my head lies in Boris' lap. The realization of it being about 26 years passed settles in. An entire generation that I've only gotten glimpses of. The world slowly passed me by and I still missed it. I missed everything.

"Boris?"
"Yeah?"
"What happened in these 26 years?"
"I wouldn't know. I haven't been around that long."                                                                                              "What do you even mean by that?"                                                                                                                                 "As In I haven't been around for 26 years in fact last I checked I've barely been around for 8 years."                                                                                                                                                                                        "Boris how...what?"

"Yep, I'm about errr 18 years old, but apparently I'm biologically 20 or 19 give or take maaaaybe 20."

"But....how?"

In a pompous sing song tone he continued "Well for one thing the doctor said my body has a very strange production of growth hormone. An irregularity if you wish. Either way the anomaly continued to grow my body at a significantly faster rate. Although a lot of my childhood completely skimmed me by I proceeded on either way. Remember back to when I said I woke up one day alone in this white latex jumpsuit? That was 16 years ago when I was about 2 or around 6 biologically. 2 years of my life I don't remember, Gray. I was...unnerved by what world I was in. The only specks of memory I had of those 2 years and the world were of a dream. A very long dream. A dream and nothing else. A dream that when I woke from I was left in the cold of reality."

He brings his face close to mine and his jade green eyes give a piercing stare into my single peering orb. His eyes unmoving, cold, staring and I can even see a hint of my reflection in his vision and my uncomfortable look as he finishes his statement no longer in his cheerish sing song tone or even a hint of pride.

"And it was VERY...fucking cold."

With those last few words he turns from me and makes towards a small section of the room that looks to be a kitchen. 

"Y'know I never was too good with cooking. You think you could give any advice?"

His words shifted completely from his tone before and now they take on a nice inviting meaning. I chuckle for a second and it grows into a sort of laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"If you're half as good at cooking bugs I wouldn't worry about needing advice."

He burst out laughing we both have a good laugh over the poke at his cooking skills and he takes a second to catch a breath with a relieved sigh.

"Fuck you, Gray" we laugh hysterically at each other for a minute or so and he reaches in the cabinet for a few packages of food. I take a seat in a beanbag chair and relax snugly in its comfortable contents. Soft, plush and fills around every curve of my body. It's hard to even think about getting up. I feel like sleeping again even having already slept so much. It's relaxing. It's quite quiet except for the calming sound of the air conditioner humming. The humming is almost like a white noise massaging my ears. He grabs a bowl and pours in a package of macaroni. It clinks against the bottom of the bowl filling it up. "I'm sure I won't mess up macaroni, atleast" He says and fills it with water. I look around and at the room some more. The naked light shining from the lightbulb glimmers over my eye. I hear the roar of a flame as Boris brings the water to a boil. Maybe there's something on is television. "where's the remote?" He answers "Under the beanbag chair. Don't want any sticky fingers to get any of my stuff." an odd response but relatively normal considering the past few days for me. 

"Believe it or not it's not bugs this time." Boris laughs "this time..."

He sets a bowl of macaroni and cheese on my lap. It's warm to the touch. I almost want to dig in with my furred hand completely barbaric as my mouth drools over the food. Boris wags his finger seeing my intentions "Nuh uh uh. Silly, where are your table manners." He gives me a fork and I resist my urge to snatch it from him and grab it politely. He smiles at the small polite holdback. I immediately dig in already devouring a large portion of the bowl as it's creamy cheesy taste graces my mouth pleasing every taste bud that rolls down it. The texture is perfect. It's a good meal. The room almost reverts back to the silence of the humming air conditioner until Boris' voice keeps it from it "I always wanted more elegant things, Gray." I look at him confused on why he's choosing this topic. Maybe he just wants to chit chat or perhaps something else. He sits down next to me on the soft chair. His voice continues softly "I wanted peace of mind and an eloquent manner of speaking. I wanted...finer things." His eyes stare forward but his face is without a hint of joy but more of a reminiscing glare. His eyes not focusing on anything in particular as the gaze is affixed to his window with the sun's glow pouring inside his home. He remains silent and doesn't seem to mind me staring at his unresponsive blank stare. This close I have a better look at his details. The unpowered LED barcode on the side of his neck has tiny letters of information. I look back up to his face and I see his eyes including the one covered by his hair. They're both the same vibrant green as when I first saw him, but his dark eye circles look like he's had many sleepless nights. Boris let's out a sigh and asks an absurd question. "Could you sleep with me tonight, Gray?"