Devoid [Bruno Mars]

Chapter twenty-five

This was hard to wrap my head around.

When we reached the neighborhood's gates, an other man that was not Benny was on guard duty. He had fine, dirty blonde hair instead of Benny's gray strands, and his belly drooped over his belt. “Good morning, sir.” Bruno stood in front of the window of the guard's tiny hut. I stood by his side. There was only enough room for one person to look in the window, but I caught a peek of the man while we were coming near.

“Hey, I know you,” came the man's drawling voice. “You're Bruno Mars.”

“That's right.” Bruno smiled charmingly, dimples showing. “How are you?”

“I'm damn all right!” the man exclaimed. “It's a joy to be workin’ out here. You see all kinds of famous people in the Hills. Are you workin’ on a new album? Do you mind signin’ this for my daughter? She's a big fan of yours. Got posters of your face on her walls, that's how I knew it was you.”

I heard the scribble of pen on paper. 

“Hey, what kind of big chop like you doing out here at three in the mornin’ anyways? Shouldn't you be partyin’ or somethin’?” His laugh sounded like a little kid's, giggly yet in a deep voice. 

“Nah,” Bruno replied. “Not tonight. I was just walking around the neighborhood with my girl here.” Bruno looked at me. I leaned over him to see the gate guard and say hi. His mouth stretched wide when he saw me. “I wanted to see Benny,” Bruno continued. “But I guess he already left.”

“She's a pretty thing,” the gate guard commented. “But why the boy clothes? I couldn't see her in those magazines.”

I gave him a tight smile. “Magazines are unidealistic, my good sir. And unfortunately, you fall victim to their standards and limits of what real beauty should look like.”

He frowned, glancing at Bruno. “She's gotta smart mouth.”

“Stop talking to him as if I'm not even here. Did Benny already leave?”

He glanced at me contritely. “I'm sorry, darlin’. Yeah, Benny just left about an hour ago.”

“Then we'll just be on our way.” Bruno was grinning. “Good day, sir.”

Bruno's smile never left him even after we made it back to his house.

*

I slid underneath Bruno's covers, pulling them all the way to my neck. Bruno joined me shortly after, the bed dipping under his added weight. I waited and waited, only to hear his soft breathing, nothing else. I slid my arm behind me, hoping to grab Bruno's arm and not something else. I let out a noise of frustration when all I felt was fabric and space, and flipped over, seeing that he was all the way at the other side of the bed. “You're ridiculous,” I whispered fiercely.

“Hm?”

I moved until I was right by his side. 

“Adrian. . .” he started but I cut him off with a kiss to his chin, his cheek; let my mouth wander over his nose then to the side of his head. “I thought I was going to die,” I said shakily. My fingers traced his jawline. “I thought I was going to die without seeing you one last time. All I wanted was to tell you how sorry I was.”

“Adrian,” he said again.

“Bruno,” I said. “And I am. I promise to do better by you. I promise, I promise, I promise.” I was so tired. My eyes were closing. The tears coming from them were making it worse, acting like steroids to my tiredness. And he was warm, his skin was so warm. “I just wanted to touch you one last time, for you to touch me. And you won't even—” My fist balled up his shirt. “You won't even—”

“Adrian, if I kiss you, will you pull back? Are you gonna push me away?”

I shook my head. “I don't think so,” I whispered.

“Then let me. . .” he breathed, and his hands cradled my face, guided my mouth to his. We were kissing. At least, I think. I struggled to keep my mind from becoming dust. Our mouths were slightly open, touching, but not moving. Just breathing. Then his tongue slipped in and his lips captured mine. So softly.

He laid my head on the pillow, and we were on our sides, facing each other. I slipped my hands into his hair and his hand ran down the length of my side, brushing my rib cage. I didn't even know if we stopped kissing or not. 

I couldn't stay awake.

*

Bruno's movement woke me up. It was still dark, and all I could see was his silhouette in motion. I heard him dress then leave, closing the door behind him without a sound. A few moments later I heard the front door slam.

I was alone.

I tried going back to sleep again, into that dreamless state, but I couldn't. I became restless, tossing and turning. My mind kept drifting to Bruno's absence. Where did he go at this time in the morning? Why didn't he tell me? Did he not want to wake me?

“Adrian.”

That cool, calm voice. My eyes flew open.

Joseph was staring at me, his all white clothing standing out sharply against his surroundings, from the bench by the piano. I gasped and sat upright so fast, my back slammed into the headboard. “I thought I told you to stay away from us,” I said, voice loud and frantic.

“I am away,” he said.

I pressed my face to my hands. “This isn't real,” I reassured myself quietly. “He's not real. I'm hallucinating. But I didn't take a pill. . .” When I looked up Joseph still sat there, regarding me with silent, dark eyes. This was indeed real. “How are you doing this?”

He rose, and came close. “You called upon me.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

He ran his thumb down my cheek, his eyes becoming sad. “Stage one of connection.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded desperately. “I don't mean to bring you here.”

He leaned down closely so that we were eye-level. “I will always answer to you.”

The door opened. 

“Adrian?” 

I whipped around to see Bruno. “What are you doing up?” He sounded worried.

I turned back, but of course, Joseph had vanished.