Chapter 5
1466 Words
5
I helped him out of the alley and down the sidewalk. We were half a block away from the stoop. His weight made it feel like a thousand miles.
"It was yours, wasn't it?" he asked me.
I stopped and frowned at him. "What was mine?"
"My room. It was yours, right?" he rephrased. "I saw you at the apartment, and-" His voice trailed off.
"And what?" I wondered. He turned away. The light from a nearby streetlight reflected off a chain around his neck.
My necklace. Or rather, the one I left behind. So much for the lasting memento of my time there. My attempt at immortality failed within twenty-four hours.
"Is something wrong?" he asked me. He followed my gaze to the necklace. "This?" He pinched the chain between his fingers. "I just found it in the room."
I shook myself and continued us on our way. "It used to be mine."
He winced. "I'm sorry. I didn't think it was-"
"Don't worry, you can keep it. I left it there on purpose," I told him.
"Oh. . ."
We reached the stoop and climbed the short flight of steps. I paused at the front door to retrieve my key to the apartment building. The stop gave me a chance to glance at the last names attached to the rooms on the buzzer board. His apartment, my old apartment, had the name of Mortale scribbled on a fresh piece of paper. So that was his last name.
I unlocked the door and we stumbled inside. The lobby was dark and quiet. Everyone was in their rooms. The door clicked shut behind us. Our shadows spread across the floor ahead of us as we headed for the stairs. The long climb was interrupted by the ring of a phone.
"Damn it," I swore as my phone rang again.
"Shouldn't you answer that?" Mortale asked me.
"I know who it is, and he can wait," I replied. It was Red with his cooked chicken.
My phone rang until we hit the third floor. The silence was deafening, but welcomed. We rounded the last flight of steps to the fourth floor when I heard hurried footsteps from above. A shadow leapt down the flight of stairs above and to our right and landed in the fourth floor hallway. The person spun around and I saw it was Red. His eyes fell on me and his tense face relaxed.
"There you are. I thought you got into some trouble," he commented.
"I did, or rather someone else did," I returned as I nodded at my load. Mortale turned his face away from me, but I noticed he grit his teeth. His body shook and his legs stumbled over the steps. "Are you okay?" I asked him.
His voice was hoarse and strained. "I-I don't know. I don't feel well."
I looked to Red. "Help me get this guy to my old room."
Red turned to the man and scowled at him. I felt the man in my hold shudder and shrink. His face scrunched up in pain and he clutched his stomach with his free hand.
"He can help himself," Red told me.
I glared at my roommate. "You can see that he can't, so stop being such a baby and help me," I insisted.
Red sneered at the man and half-turned away from us. "He's just fine, now leave him on the stairs and let's go."
I ground my teeth together and trudged up the last few steps to the fourth floor. My shoulder brushed into Red and shoved him out of our way as I turned down the hall. "If you're not going to help me then stay out of my way," I growled.
He stumbled back and his eyes widened. His mouth dropped open like a floundering fish. "But Leila-"
"Don't 'but Leila' me," I snapped as I turned my back on him and down the hall to my old room. It seemed like I was always returning there. "I'll be up in a bit. This guy needs my help."
Red reached out to me, but he pursed his lips and retracted his hand. His face scrunched up in anger. He grabbed the railing and swung himself up the stairs.
"I'm sorry."
I started and looked down at the man beside me. His slitted eyes faced the floor and the corners of his mouth were curved down in frown. "Sorry for what?" I asked him.
"For being such a bother," he replied.
I snorted and readjusted his weight across my shoulders. "If you want to be sorry for something then apologize for your weight. You're hiding anvils under that coat, aren't you?"
He managed a smile. It suited his face. "I don't think so."
"Well, no thanks to Red this is going to be a long hallway," I commented.
"I'm sorry."
"You say that a lot."
"I'm-"
"Sorry. I know. But how about you be less sorry and start moving those feet of yours?" I requested.
"Okay."
We shuffled our way down the hall to my old room. Mortale used his key on the room and we stepped inside. The spartan condition in which I left the room hadn't changed. There was no furniture in the living room, and only a few personal belongings on a rickety table beside the door.
"Don't you have any place to sit?" I asked him.
He nodded at the bedroom door. "In there."
I helped him into the bedroom where the bare, stained mattress I'd abandoned awaited us. A few blankets were bunched up in a pile with a worn pillow at the head. He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, and I stood before him. The weak moonlight from the window behind me cast my shadow over his slumped form. His shoulders drooped and his hands hung between his spread legs. He stared at the floor with his head bowed in a servile attitude.
"Can I get you any food?" I asked him.
He shook his head without raising it. "There isn't any."
I frowned. "Why not?"
"I. . .I eat out," he replied.
"Is there anything else you need? Did you want me to look at those bruises?" I offered.
"No, but-" He tensed. There was a pause before he shook his head. "No. Never mind."
And that was that. I turned to leave. "I guess I'll-" I jerked to a stop.
My hand was grabbed and arrested my movement. I turned to find his hand wrapped around mine. The moon reflected off his dark coat and cast him in a mixture of shadow and light that emboldened the lines of his face. His eyes were wide open, and for the first time I saw they were a brilliant shade of green. They were almost emerald in color, and so bright I could see my reflection in them.
Gone were the apologies and the hesitant words. He stared at me without shyness or embarrassment, and his words were clear and firm.
"Don't go," he told me.
A mesmerizing heat flared up inside me. I fought against the urge to clasp his cheek in one hand. To caress his skin and dive into the depths of those beautiful eyes. I wanted to know him, and yet I was afraid. No. It wasn't fear. It was something else. Something I couldn't quite understand. The not-understanding is what frightened me.
"I-I have to," I stuttered.
I tugged on my hand. He held onto me for a moment before his face changed. His eyes drooped so the light was extinguished. His gaze returned to the floor. He released his grip on me and my fingers slipped from his.
"I'm sorry. . ." he mumbled.
Not half as sorry as I was. I pulled my hand against my chest and stared fascinated at this strange creature of a man. "I should go. I guess I'll see you around."
"Yeah, I guess. . ." he replied.
I studied him for a moment longer before I pulled myself away from the pitiable sight. The last I saw of him he sat as still as a statue on the bed and stared at the ground. The weak light of the moon passed away and darkened the room in shadow and depression.
I slipped into the hall and leaned my back against the apartment door. A sigh escaped my lips. I raised my hand and brushed it against my bangs. My eyes widened and I lowered my hand so it hovered in front of me. My hand shook. I bit my lip and clasped my hand in a fist.
"What the hell is wrong with me?" I muttered. I dropped my hand to my side and leaned the back of my head against the door to stare at the ceiling. The yellow ceiling with its myriad of water stains glared back. "One stupid look from a cute guy and you suddenly lose it? Come on."
My pep talk did the trick. Mostly. I couldn't erase the memory of those beautiful eyes, or the feelings they stirred inside of me, but I could forget them for a while.
- Writer
