Chapter 23: 23. Bedtime Story
The clock on the mantel chimes at 11 pm.
I slip off the white shirt which is crumpled slightly here and there but with a tired sigh, I take a look at the mirror. But I lose all mood to even catch a reflection of this person when I see the slight darkening line on my neck.
"Oh." Elian breathes as soon as he tries to come in, he takes a quick step back out of the room.
Oh, that's right. I had left the door open because there was no one around and even Maria had gone to sleep. Frank was the only one waiting in the lobby when we reached the dark dreary house and it was a stark contrast against the bright lights of the Welstone mansion.
In a strange twisted way, I felt that I needed this sort of silence and isolation.
"Come in." I say with a strain in my voice. I am surprisingly tired. "It's okay." I add in a mumble, grabbing the loose shirt I had left on the bed before.
"Are you decent?" His voice comes from behind the door frame and I see his shadow move, looking quite comical.
"We are both guys." I say, pulling the loose shirt over myself, "But yes, I am decent."
I needed to take a bath but unfortunately, there was no warm or hot water in the bathroom. Since sneaking in a quick cold bath is what I can afford, I decide not to put on my sleeping clothes but only a long shirt that extends up to my knee and it seems to be what Adian slept in before.
Elian is awkwardly posed in front of the door, a wooden box in one hand and a bowl in another. I smile at him and clap my hands together in an equally stiff reaction to his manner. He has changed into a simple attire and his hair looks slightly damp. Or maybe it's a trick of the light.
"What's up?" I ask him, putting my hands at my sides and slowly following him to the sofa as he settles down there.
"Sir Dominic is not available. So I asked Frank to bring some ice for your...bruises." Elian informs, setting the wooden box on the table.
The other end of the room, where the sofa is kept, is relatively darker compared to my bed area and Elian is struggling through with the dim light of the wall lamp a few feet away. I quickly grab a candle piece from the mantel and along with it, a matchbox.
A match scratches loudly at the side and it forms a small ball of yellow. Wordlessly, I walk towards the sofa, lighting up the candle as I did. I put the candle stand down on the table and look upward.
Elian pauses as well, coincidentally meeting my eyes as he looks at the candle. For a brief moment, we hold eye contact before he immediately looks away as though he caught himself. I clear my throat as he looks away and resumes his search, taking out a small glass bottle from the box and some white linen cloth.
"Adian." He calls out, his voice slightly gruff and his attention still focus on reading the labels of the bottle. I hum in reply and for some reason, I cannot take my eyes away from him. The straight dip of his nose and that focused look on his face mainly due to the unintelligible scribbles on the labels.
"Adian." He calls again, giving me a look.
"Huh. Yeah." I say, gaining back awareness.
"Sit down. The ice is melting."
"Yeah. right. The ice." I mutter more to myself. Yes. The ice. What was I doing, zoning out like that?
I take a seat beside him, the cushion of the sofa dipping under our weight. I clear my throat again to disperse the frigid air surrounding the both of us. Dead silence is eminent throughout the whole house and the sound of Elian working through the bowl. The ice pieces clink against each other as he drops them down on one of the linen cloth. I watch without moving a limb and there is a bliss in just laying back, watching. I want to melt like the ice.
Elian works with apparent precision in his hands as he always seemed to even when he eats. Fair enough, I haven't seen him do anything outside of eating with him. But tonight was...different. He tucks the broken blocks of ice between the layers of the folded linen and nests it on its palms properly before securing it to my right cheek. A small laugh rises out of me as I watch him. That is when he looks at me with confusion and slight apprehension. That's right, I forgot how stuck up and hostile he is in this small window of concern but I am not hating this, to be honest.
"Why are you laughing?"
"Oh, no just…" I shake my head.
I couldn't say I am laughing because of you.
Yeah, that'd sound bad if I said that to him.
"Hold this." He instructs, referring to the make-shift ice pack and I catch hold of it as he lets go. He turns back to the table and picks up the bottle. It smells a lot like an ointment, with strong hints of peppermint and menthol. I recoil back immediately at the smell which makes Elian lean in closer. He clicks his tongue at me when I move back again.
"Can't you ever stay still?"
"What the hell is that?" I ask, pointing my chin at the suspicious-looking glass bottle. He didn't happen to procure that from a shady-looking lady witch, did he?
Elian just barely rolls his eyes at my words,
"It's a medicinal rub. Stay still."
"And you're gonna put that where?"
"On your neck. Now don't waste my time." He talks as though he would to a kid who is kicking up a fuss out of nothing. Ugh, I give him a dirty look as I raise my chin up and expose my neck to him. He lightly dabs the tip of his finger with some of the weird substance and I wait as he applies it to my bruise. A distinct smell of menthol fills up my nose and I know, by pure instinct, that this was going to burn up in a little while.
"Can I ask you something?" I strike up a conversation, feeling the need to occupy myself.
"Yes."
"Why is everyone calling us a fated pair?"
Elian looks up at me and one eyebrow goes up in bemusement. Silence rests between us as he thoughtfully rubs the oily ointment across my neck with his thumb. I would very much prefer it if he didn't do that. Consciously or subconsciously. It's not good for my...um heart.
I wait for him to reply but he just continues to rub it without a reply, a distracted look on his face. There is a strong scent of menthol enveloping the room and I feel sticky with the oily texture of the ointment.
"People like to assume and that is what they did when I introduced you to the public." He starts and his voice is slightly grainy from suddenly speaking up.
"Oh."
"Are you happy now?"
"Now? I feel as though a dozen more questions popped up in its place." I joke, cracking a small smile. Elian looks down at his hands but I catch a small hint of amusement in his eyes but he simply refuses to smile. He frustrates me sometimes with that behavior.
"Why did you marry Adian?" The question rises out of nowhere and I have tripped with my words. Thankfully, Elian doesn't notice it. Either that or he thought I was purposely speaking like that.
"It's a complex matter."
"Oh that's the perfect bedtime story and I am super sleepy so I won't catch even half of it."
He frowns at me, trying to understand what I meant. But he leans in, unnecessarily dabbing his finger on my skin, and instead, he shoots a question back at me.
"Have you... really forgotten everything?"
"It's…" It's not that I have forgotten, I just have nothing to forget. "Why? You don't believe me."
Elian laughs slightly but it's not exactly a laugh. It sounds sarcastic. Wry even.
"It's not a matter of belief. It just felt so...convenient that it happened."
"It doesn't feel so convenient to me."
"Well…" He tilts his head in agreement, "You didn't happen to have a thorn in your boot for all your youth and he just happens to forget everything."
"...I don't think thorns have memories."
Elian eyes at me with judgment and shakes his head, sighing.
"Adian."
"Okay, okay. Just tell me the story."
I can see the equations going off in his head as Elian actually considers doing what I had told him. And he leans forward near the table, hands clasped together. I follow the suit, waiting for him to begin.
"As you already heard, it's true. You were from a brothel and then my father bought you."
There is a pause as Elian tries to figure out what to say next and I wait.
"We spent years growing up in the same house but when my father died, you…" He softly scoffs and continues, "You asked me to let you stay and I married you."
"Is that all?" I ask in surprise when I hear the way he spoke, as though he recited 'The End.' of a fairytale.
Elian looks away silently. Closing the lid of the ointment bottle, he quickly drops it in the wooden box among other things, and arranges the bowl on top of the box.
"What? Seriously? You can't be serious."
Elian looks at me deadpan and the room falls back to its initial dark state as he snubs the flame with his fingers. I gape at him in incredulous shock.
"Wait." I say, clutching the hem of his sleeve to stop him. The water from the melted ice splashes on the table as the bowl topples in his hands. A disapproving frown appears on his face but I ignore it.
"I still have questions." I say in a hurry because I wanted him to continue so bloody much. Too much. But Elian has already begun to walk off.
"It's been a chaotic day. Take proper rest, I shall ask Maria to prepare a proper breakfast."
I jump slightly in my seat and spring up,
"But what about that?" I ask loudly and it resonates in the silence around us, "Are we fated mates or whatever is it they said?"
Elian stops for a moment at the word and looks back at me, he is already well past the sofa and standing near the door.
"No." He says softly but then adds, "At least, I don't think so. Good night, Adian."
"What? You don't think so? What does that even mean?!" I yell at him but he's already well past the door.
"That's the shittiest storytelling I've ever heard." I mutter bitterly to myself, feeling incomplete.
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A little (very little) bonding time between the husbands. :)))
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