"Sea?"
He cautiously rests a hand to my bicep, attempting to divert my attention back into the room.
He loosens his grip once he realises the fragility of my body. Bones protruding from places only X-rays should be able to see.
I feel his skin. I know what he's thinking.
Man.
It's so easy to hide a malnourishment under clothes and a smile, yet with this job, it's impossible.
They don't pay for smiles.
They don't pay for clothes.
Sex.
They pay for every sharp bone, every scar, every bruise. Every imperfect piece of me, they live for.
I must be a kink for them by now. A human manifestation of everything people hide away. Their guilty pleasures. Perverted desires.
Small people seeking small men to make them feel bigger.
But as a professional, if you ask me,
the biggest part of them isn't the part they wish it was.
My right arm spasms.
Tightening.
Softening.
The smell. Is that what took my mind here? To this shit. To work?
No. This is just me. Just the adult brain swaying, catching onto the dark.
I think, maybe this smell is trying to help me. Help the lost kid in a store trying to find his mum through isles of shit.
Like a guiding hand taking me back home.
Seriously, what a 360.
Am I still just some little kid then?
I flinch my eyes slightly,
already knowing the expression I'm about to be met by.
"I thought it was finally the perfect distraction." I speak.
The kettle whistles between each breath I steal.
Lucas wants to speak. I see it. His lips pulsating, waiting for some sort of cue to let loose.
My voice breaks as my head falls to the hand that cowers to my shoulder.
"Why do we get taken from that so soon?"
His eyes are fixated.
He's just clueless isn't he? Scared. Is that why he was shaking?
Why his hand still shakes even now, as my cheek bone holds it hostage?
"I'll take a tea. Decafe.
"Caffeine's makin me crazy these days."
I tug the bun from my hair, putting the pink glitter scrunchie over my wrist as I wince pulling away any strays from my scalp.
"I take two sugars. If you have any that is."
I flop onto his sofa, lobbing my elbow over my eyes, dismissing Lucas and this awkwardness along with it.
"Excuse my insanity hangover." I scoff.
I can't see him but I know he's glaring. I can feel it through my arm.
"Decafe it is then." He says with a more than nervous undertone.
I hear mugs clacking behind me.
He must have a lot. A full cupboards worth. More than your average guy at least. Especially one that supposedly lives alone.
I fiddle with my new found scrunchie, picking at one of the loose, glittery threads. I stop. Float inside my mind for a moment. Just to ponder.
This is a woman's. What business does a man have with a bright pink, glittery hair tie?
I peak my head from behind the arm of the sofa. Reminding my brain of his hair length.
You couldn't get his hair up if you tried, it's far too short.
I mean, at a push you could maybe manage two tiny pigtails from it.
I lift the scrunchie to eye level, pulling it like a slingshot.
But not with this chunky thing.
I aim it directly at Lucas's head, tongue tracing my top lip, and without meaning to I take the shot and unfortunately… land it.
"What did you just—"
His head spins round as i duck back behind the chairs arm. It really feels like a scene from a rom com.
Well, just a comedy in this case. Unless we are talking about the romance I'm sure he gets up to with the owner of that hair tie.
Lucas picks up two fine tea cups, walking towards me trying his hardest not to spill a drop.
"Careful." I say.
"You're looking pretty unsteady there."
He pulls some coasters from his pocket and places the teas on top of them.
"You want it or not?"
He says firmly, his brow raised.
Is this his way of messing around or is he genuinely pissed off at me?
I lift it from its place. A small amount dripping down my finger as I inch it closer to my mouth.
Lucas inhales. His chest rising and falling, twirling the scrunchie I threw around his fingers.
He pauses.
"Are you okay? Like really… okay?"
I bring the mug to my lips, slurping it as loudly as possible.
"I think I can manage drinking a brew on my own, thanks." I declare.
"Why do you do that? I've known you for barely an hour, but you joke constantly. Maybe even more than my coworker sally, and trust me, she jokes… a lot."
I slurp the tea. Louder this time.
"No really, look I can drink it."
Lucas exhales. He'd been holding his breath that whole time.
There it is again.
His hands shaking.
"What was that scream earlier. I know I heard it from your flat."
I gulp the drink until empty, forcing it back on the table. Besides the coaster.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I already said it didn't come from my—"
He interrupts me before I can say anything else.
"I know it did.
I was outside your door when it happened. I was just about to knock when I heard it."
I listen to what he's saying but I don't get it. What's he trying to say here?
"There was no scream. Not from me." I say bluntly. Emotionless.
He doesn't move. He doesn't react. But seven words venture from him, causing my heart to sink.
"Did you hear her in the book?"
Everything's suddenly become, slower.
This isn't what i wanted. Why does time have to slow during the moment I need it to go by fast.
"Huh?" Despite the short word.
I still felt my voice breaking.
He gradually sits his tea down on the coaster before standing, shifting over towards the pillow.
"This book." He lifts it, practically waving it around.
"You nabbed it?! Why… why would you take that? Why would you bring it here?!"
His strides feel so heavy, each one heavier than the last, digging through my stomach as he comes closer with it in hand.
"This is what you're scared of isn't it?"
He sits it down, propping it up against the back of his seat. Letting it watch me.
He shuffles beside me, our shoulders almost touching. This man does not understand personal space.
"You don't need to be. She isn't the bad you think she is. Truth is, I used to live in your apartment. 2 years in fact. I was the previous tenant."
My head shakes, trying to process what has just been told to me. I jolt backwards instinctively, crawling on my hands and legs to the other side of the sofa.
"Why were you at my apartment Lucas. What did you want?"
I can't see him the same. I want to but I can't. That gentle man who I pushed away, who I hated but felt comfortable with. I can't see him anymore.
"I need you to trust me and listen when I speak to you. Please, just try at least."
My eyes are so wide, so open. I must look insane right now.
I nod without thinking. My stare beginning to dry out.
"It's not just today. I've actually been watching you for a while. Not in a creepy way though.
At first it was because of the book. I left it there because I knew the next person might find it. I wanted to know if I was loosing it or if the voice I was reading in, was real.
But after some time I stopped thinking about the book. I stopped watching it through your actions and started seeing you.
I moved out because of water issues. But I couldn't go far. I was a 27 year old teen.
We were similar in age and I wanted to speak to you. Anything.
I started noticing the times you'd go to take out the trash. I saw how you'd only go once a month. I assumed maybe you rid of it some other way, hence not having to go that often.
I started going when you went. Every time begging I'd have the cordage to talk. And every time I'd end up back in my flat, waiting for next month to come around.
Sometimes even… like tonight, I'd stand outside your door, hoping sooner or later, my hands would knock for me.
And about the book. I don't know what she is. If she's even real. It's not mine originally. Like you, I assumed it was left by the old owners.
She's spoken to me… the times I've heard her, they've felt genuine. Easy. Like a mother in an abstract way."
My eyelids remain glued,
refusing to close as I breathe.
As we both,
Breathe.