The Deluge

⒈ Negotiating

Chapter 1- Negotiating

“Say, doc when did you get that?”

Eric looked up questioningly, abandoning smoothing the creases on his trousers. He touched the singular silver hoop in his left ear, and tugged on it lightly.

“This?” he took in the boy’s fascinated gaze glued to his earlobe before going on to say, “I think I was around nineteen.”

“Definitely cool. Hey, you don’t really look that old, now I come to think of it.” The patient was faintly in awe.

Eric smiled, internally just really glad that the boy had started talking, finally.

“That’s because I’m not.” One eyebrow hitched itself higher on his face.

The boy looked a bit confused. The lines around his mouth contorted with faint mockery, “Are you sure you’re qualified enough to do this?”

A faint bitter tone seeped into his words, “To deal with me?” He scornfully swept his hands in a grand gesture over his sprawled body resting on the wickerwork chair, his fingers tightening around the armrests.

A slight furrow made appeared between Eric’s thin eyebrows.

 Irritation flashed in the boy’s eyes before receding to give way to a blazing determined look, hardening his face.

“So, I’m talking, because… only one condition. A deal-thing.”

 Eric’s right eyebrow lifted up again slightly as he looked towards the boy busy twisting his fingers together, not meeting Eric’s eyes. Eric hurriedly schooled his features into what he hoped was an accommodating smile as the boy lifted up a flushed face to meet Eric’s gaze.

 “I’m going to talk. But only,” he faltered slightly, then looked straight into Eric’s eyes, “only ‘cause I want to know why I did it.”

 “You can do that right?” he ploughed on feverishly, “I know this isn’t going to bring her back, but dammit I want to know what made me cave in in the first place. I know what made me, but why why why…You know I went over there to dissuade her initially? But then, why did I - of all things, I--”

 He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, face twisted in a blend of exhaustion and frustration. Something appeared to crumble within him; his shoulders sagged as a long breath escaped him, and he folded himself into the very stance that Eric had grown accustomed to seeing him in; knees drawn up to his chest his arms encircling him, and blocking everything else out. He rested his face into the little dark refuge that his folded legs created between his torso.

Eric waited, tapping his fountain pen lightly on his thigh. He couldn't help it, he was excited. It was a bit hard to restrain himself now that there was finally some progress.

 “I loved her,” It was a muffled admittance. “By all rights, I shouldn’t have done it. Because she meant to me more than anything else. Ever. She was my world doc, really. Like really. Badly.”

 His voice cracked as though the admittance was too heavy to bear, straining under the pressure of his emotions. He sank further down into the chair, his back slipping against the sturdy wickerwork, “I couldn’t have...I…I loved her.”

 His misery was visible behind the wall of unshed tears that glazed his eyes.

 “She…she made me promise. I couldn’t not to do it. She was in so much pain and aaagh!” he growled in frustration, “Why is this so complicated? Look, not everyone would do it, right? I mean I’ve heard people saying I snapped because I was weak, but I was strong- because no one has the guts enough to carry out--“ he looked angry at himself for stumbling, “to actually just—“