The Mindless Man's Paradise

Chapter fifteen

  Pain is all in your head. I told myself. Pain is just a feeling.

  That got me through it.

  That, and the constant pressure of Cyrus’s large, calloused hands.

  In a random throe of anguish, Cyrus took his other hand and placed it on the back of the same one he was holding.

  I got that weird warm feeling again. It started in the pit of my stomach, and it was steadily growing. Its presence ultimately confused me, just as the last time, but only this time,       I didn’t push it away.

  We stayed that way for the remaining time it took to apply the onion paste, and even after it was done, we didn’t let go.

  Not at first, anyways, but after we realized it, we let go as if we had been holding onto an electric fence.

  Aurora gathered her materials, an ear to ear grin on her face as she walked away. Cyrus returned this gesture with a foreboding eyebrow raise.

  I laughed to myself at the childish exchange and righted myself so that I could return to Cyrus’s room where I felt most comfortable.

  Cyrus helped me, with his hand on the small of my back as I got onto my wobbly leg. We slowly made our way to Cyrus’s room, where I assumed my position on his bed, and he assumed his in his swivel chair.

  We didn’t make eye contact, or even speak, so he began to leaf through his drawings. Since they were scattered across his desk, he started to organize them into piles. Inventory, almost.

  After a few minutes, I watched as his perfect features molded into a look of bewilderment.

  I didn’t say anything, because I knew why his features had changed. The picture.

  The one that was hastily folded in my pocket instead of being perfectly pristine upon his desktop. I could imagine the creases as they slowly, yet diligently frayed and smudged the delicately placed pencil strokes. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to take the picture out, look at it, and tuck it away once more, just so I could keep it for myself.

  Cyrus muttered something incoherent.

  ‘Can love last forever?’

  What could that possibly mean? Especially to a boy as mysterious as Cyrus?

  Which reminded me, Cyrus knew about everything there was to know about me, yet I knew not a thing about him.

  I grunted to myself in frustration.

  This made Cyrus jump, as if he’d just realized I was there. Along with this, he had dropped the problem of the missing portrait, although the face he’d made had made me felt guiltier than ever.

  He looked at me like I had to say something, but when I didn’t, he asked, “So, whatcha want to do?”

  I shrugged.

  “C’mon, dude.” he groaned. “Brainstorm!”

  I felt my face as it contorted into the most screwed up expression it had ever obtained.

  “Oh, right…” he chortled, mostly to himself. “You don’t know the lingo, do you?”

  At the word ‘lingo’, my face only scrunched up more and this caused Cyrus to hoot and holler. Once he’d calmed down, he got up from his chair, and held up his hand, indicating me to stay there.

  As if I could move.

  This made me smile. But I waited, anyway.

  When he returned, he had a book in one hand.