The next morning, Eren and I venture out into the garden, per his request. Because we're together and his nurse deemed me capable of keeping an eye out for him, we aren't shadowed by her. The only other people around are a few gardeners, and they keep to themselves. Though, we were warned they'd have a few eyes on us via the security cameras and a few people close by as a precaution. I find it annoying, but because of Eren's (already worsening) condition, I can't blame them.
I, myself, haven't gotten any better upon my, or even Eren's arrival, of course, and today I'm a lot more tired than I've been in the past week since meeting him. I only managed to capture about three hours of sleep the previous night, but that isn't uncommon with my disease. I keep quiet about it, though, for Eren's sake more than anyone else's; he doesn't need to be worrying about anything more.
As we step out into the fresh spring air, he's required to wear a beanie to protect his scalp and long sleeves to conceal his arms so his sensitive skin doesn't burn. When he tells me the hat was knitted especially for him by his grandmother, I force myself to bite back sarcastic comments.
"Wow," he breathes as the door slides quietly shut in our wake. "It feels like it's been forever since I've been outside."
"Me too," I murmur.
"But you're not really an outdoors type of person, are you?" Again with the grin. I shrug. "Let's walk," he says, starting forward.
I remain on his left, his cane is gripped in his right hand clicking faintly against the sidewalk as we saunter slowly down the path. There is an abundance of plants and flowers - from bright, colorful roses to carnations and lilies, sunflowers, lilac, lavender, tulips, hydrangea, and columbine. Many others I can't even name, but it's colorful. Fragrant. Peaceful. The plants stretch almost all the way around the building, up many of the walls and climbing the fences bordering the property line. The ground is littered with bushes and a few trees, some still budding and others already filled with leaves, saplings in between here and there. The sun shines down and the breeze brushes through, causing the shadows of the plants and trees to dance across the ground, on each other, on us. Save for leaves playing against each other and our footsteps, there isn't much sound to speak of.
The little stone path we follow weaves through the garden, allowing for a good look at all the different kinds of life being nurtured. Bees hover around flowers to collect their pollen alongside a few butterflies here and there. Some birds have perched themselves among the trees, but are silent themselves as if enjoying the peace and quiet as we are.
Eventually, we round a corner and pick up the bubbling of a fountain. It's nestled among the shrubbery, fairly tall portraying a sculpted dolphin mid-jump, the water being produced from its mouth.
Much like myself, Eren seems totally enraptured by our surroundings. His eyes, nearly blending in with the greenery around us, are wide and wonder-filled. He smiles, of course, as he takes it all in, sweeping his gaze back and forth like he's trying to capture every detail, remember everything he sees. He hasn't stumbled or claimed dizziness as of yet, nor has he complained about being tired on our little journey, and whether or not he truly is, for once, is difficult to decipher. Still, I'm aware of the cameras attached to the building, aware of eyes on us, and more than prepared to help if he needs it.
"I can't believe nobody really comes out here," he says, voice mirroring his awe.
"They do," I correct, "when they can."
Eren nods slowly. "I guess that makes sense."
We walk a little farther until we've come to, essentially, the end of the garden, wherein a white gazebo lies. I follow Eren to it, where he steps up and gazes around a minute before waving me along and sinking onto the bench bordering the inside. He props his cane up beside him and flexes his fingers, massages his palm with the opposite thumb. I perch myself next to him, simply watching.
"Levi?" he murmurs after a while of silence; I jump involuntarily at the sound of my name in his voice.
"Hm?"
"I was wondering...what did you do around here before you met me?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, since you said you didn't have any friends and that you aren't a people person and all that, and since you don't like watching TV and stuff..." He trails off.
"I read."
For the first time since stepping foot outside the building, Eren fixed his eyes on me. They're still wide, still full of wonder and curiosity though this time it's for a different reason. "What do you read?" he asks.
"Anything I can get my hands on, really. Fiction, non-fiction, biographies...I'd say anything but, say, text books."
"So you're not picky." He nods, absorbing this information. "Is that it?"
"Pretty much."
"Do you ever write?"
"Stories?"
"Yeah. Or anything, I guess."
"Not really."
"What do you mean, not really?"
"I have," I say, "but none of my spur of the moment ideas ever go anywhere. I'm never motivated to continue them."
"Why not?"
"I'm not sure."
"Give me an example."
"An example?"
"Of one of your ideas."
At first I'm a bit baffled. I can't imagine why he'd want an example of one of my shitty ideas I'd never cared to even write down. Most of them are ridiculous in my eyes, anyway. But since he's shown me his enormous talent at the piano and played songs for me upon my request, I figure I owe him this much. I search around that dusty corner of my memory to find one that didn't completely suck.
"There was one...about a man who could fly. He wanted to find God, and thought his wings could carry him to heaven...but once he reached the outermost parts of the atmosphere, he found the whole concept of it to be a myth. That's all I got." I shrug and look away from Eren, mildly embarrassed. This was one I'd come up with several months ago and at the time, it seemed pretty interesting. However, now that I've said it out loud to someone like Eren, it seems ridiculous.
"Wow," he murmurs. I risk a glance back; he's still gazing at me, eyes sparkling. His imagination is clearly running amuck. "That sounds neat. Why don't you write it?"
"Loss of inspiration, I guess."
"Damn, that sucks. I would've liked to read it."
I scrutinize the kid. "You're just saying that," I accuse.
"No, no, really! I think that sounded pretty cool. I could never have thought of something like that."
"Hmph, and you're the creative one."
Eren snorts, nudging me with his knee. "You're obviously pretty creative, too," he retorts. I simply roll my eyes at his ridiculousness.
Silence falls over again. A few birds chirp here and there, some bees buzz their way by, essentially ignoring us. Hearing footsteps, we turn to find a dark-haired girl with a nurse shuffling down the path. Eren smiles and offers a wave, which they politely return. I only nod in acknowledgement, and they continue on.
Again, Eren is the one to break the quiet.
"So what's your favorite book?"
"Don't have one."
"Huh? How don't you have a favorite book?" He seems perplexed.
Brow cocked, I counter with, "What's your favorite song?"
He blinks once. Twice. Thrice. Smiles. "Touché."
"Why are you asking these things, anyway?" I inquire.
"I just wanted to get you know you better...to know if you have any passions or...who you are. Can't exactly bond like that over the piano."
"Hm, so that's why you wanted to come out here instead today."
"Sorta..."
It seems he wants to say more, but is rendered unable by an eruption of coughing, seemingly coming from his very core. He swivels his torso away from me, burying his face in his arm. The only thing I can think to do is rub his shoulder until it's over. By the time it is, his pale face has been reddened, his eyes shinier with a bit extra moisture. I dismiss his apologetic, rueful grin with a shake of my head.
"Do you wanna go inside?"
"No. I'm alright." He folds his hands in his lap, but I don't miss the sudden, although slight, shakiness of them. My heart lurches for him, but I bury the fear and pain in finding a way to change the subject.
"So, your turn," I say.
Noticing my use of his words, he chuckles lightly. "Okay. Shoot."
"What made you wanna learn the piano all those years ago?"
"All those years ago?" he repeats. "You say that like I'm old."
"Shut up, you know what I mean."
He laughs. "Yeah. Well, I wasn't really the one to make the decision to get lessons. I mean, I was only four. But I guess I've just always been drawn to music, even back then. My mom told me I used to play with those baby toys that played music more than anything else, and I would hum while I ate or colored or something...and supposedly I hummed myself to sleep." He snorts; his cheeks bear the faintest flush. "So she got me lessons, and I was thrilled. Still am, honestly. It's helped me a lot through being sick and stuff."
"Is it all you play?"
"Yes and no. I picked up the guitar a little bit, too...and I started with the cello a bit in middle school. But when I was diagnosed again at the beginning of high school, I kinda had to stop playing both of those 'cause I didn't have any at home to practice with. I mean, occasionally I'd get my hands on one, but never like the piano. But it's my favorite, anyway."
I hum for lack of anything better to respond with. I attempt to picture a younger Eren - healthier, a head full of hair and eyes even brighter than the ones he bears now, smaller and a bit chubbier with baby fat, plucking away at a piano ten times the size of him with little dimpled hands. It's difficult, what with having no knowledge of his hair color or how he might appear was he healthy, but I manage a fuzzy, distorted image solely conjured by my imagination.
"What's that smile for?" he asks, breaking me from the brief daydream. And I realize I am, indeed, smiling, though it's small.
"Nothing," I say a bit too quickly.
"Suuuure," he drawls with his own smile - tired, but wider than I've seen it yet.
"Shush," I mutter. "Anyway, we should probably start heading back in before they come after us."
Sighing lightly as he does when herded from the music room, he reaches for his cane. "Guess you're right."
Wordlessly, I stand and give him a minute to do the same, prepared in case he needs my help. He doesn't, but he wobbles a bit, face scrunching in pain. He's so fragile, so weak...
We trail back side by side, not speaking but taking what's left of our time to take in the abundance of plants, trees, and flowers around us once more. Eventually, the bubbling of the fountain fades from earshot and we reach the same door we exited from. Eren's nurse waits inside and smiles upon catching sight of us. She slides the door open and allows us back inside before shutting it behind us, smothering the sounds of the outdoors.
"Eren, you're okay to spend some time in the music room, if you'd like," says the nurse.
"Um..." he mumbles, glancing my way. I shrug, indifferent. "Actually, I think I'd rather go back to my room and rest for a while. All that walking took a lot out of me."
"Okay," I murmur.
"But meet me tomorrow, okay?"
"Sure."
Eyes bright, although reflecting the fatigue he claims to feel, his smile never falters. He reaches for my hand, cool fingers wrapping around mine for a brief squeeze - a way of saying goodbye without actually verbalizing it. Before he releases, I squeeze back with an unfamiliar kind of tightness in my chest but warmth radiating from his touch.
With that, we go our separate ways for the day. Having nothing better to do, I stroll back to my room. In a way I'm grateful he decided not to visit the piano today; with so little sleep I, too, am exhausted on top of it being a general side-effect from my disease.
I remove my shoes, snatch a book at random from the shelf, and snuggle myself among the blankets and pillows of my bed. I thumb the book open, find the first page, and begin reading, though not five minutes into the book I'm dozing off, and eventually fall asleep with a certain smile and pair of eyes plastered to the backs of my eyelids...