bambi eyes || tradley

8. your touch

"Hi," Tristan sheepishly greeted, awkwardly waving a hand at his father, "miss me?"

"Um"-his dad slowly opened the screen door, motioning for the two boys to enter the house to a high-ceilinged foyer-"I thought your semester was ending in another month?"

"It is," Tristan replied, setting the bags and suitcase on the carpeted floor. The strange look he flashed Bambi was not left unnoticed. "But... I'll explain it to you and Mum later, okay?"

"Um, okay."

"This is my... neighbour," his son introduced, motioning towards the small boy beside him curiously taking in his surroundings. "His name is Brad. We met a few months ago."

"No we -" Tristan clapped a hand over the smaller boy's mouth, letting out a nervous laugh.

"Stop swearing, we're in front of my dad. Have some manners, man." He anxiously darted his eyes between his confused father and a confused Bambi. Slowly, he pulled his hand away from the small boy's lips and threw an arm around his shoulders, his hand dangling off from it. "So, we're just going to make our way upstairs. Is that okay with you?"

"Um, yeah," he slowly said, shooting Bambi another incomprehensible look.

"Nice to meet you, Mister... Evans," the brown-eyed boy slowly said, remembering Tristan's friend telling him the blond's last name earlier that day. He gave his father's hand a firm shake before the taller boy locked his fingers around the smaller boy's wrist and yanked him towards the direction of a staircase.

"Avoid talking a lot, okay?" Tristan instructed as he dragged him up the stairs. "They're going to think you're weird."

"Then that is their problem."

The blond rolled his eyes at the expected response from the young boy and pushed a door open to a widespread room, a large bed placed in the middle of the carpeted floor.

A smile instantly captured Bambi's features before he broke out into a run, flinging his small body onto the mattress. Happily, he rolled around in the sheets, like a puppy excitedly turning over and over in the grass. Tristan found himself chuckling and plopping down next to the excited boy.

"Why is everything so enormous in this place?" he questioned as he rolled over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. "Why did you move away to your little flat when you have such a lovely, big house?"

"Because I wanted to find a life of my own," Tristan explained, rolling over onto his side so that he was facing the curly-haired boy. "I love it here, but I also love the idea of crafting my own life."

"Crafting your own life?"

"I want to live in something that I provided myself with," he rephrased. "You know, independence and all."

"Oh." Bambi nodded understandingly. "Good for you, Tris."

Tristan found a smile creeping its way onto his lips and he rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling fan turning into slow circles. "I wonder what's happening with me."

"I do not understand."

"What's so important about me that a man walked into my flat?"

"Maybe he was looking for something," Bambi guessed. He shrugged his shoulders and rolled over onto his side. "That'd make the most sense. I think. What if..."

Tristan furrowed his brows as his trailed off and shook his head. "No, Bambi, you can tell me. What is it?"

"No, it is rather impossible."

"Just tell me."

"What if he put me in your trunk?" Tristan widened his eyes, contemplating the assumption. "You said that he was standing by your aircraft. I don't know, it's stupid, but I am desperate."