~1~
(John)
The first time you saw him you knew there was something
different about him. It might have been the way his hood was pointed
in two places, or the dark shade of his skin, or even how he looked like
he wanted to run at every noise. You were in the park. It
wasn't strange for you to go there after school, however today was an
exception, it was raining and you loathed the rain.
You push your wet bangs out of your face and walk up to the boy.
"Hi." You say trying to catch is attention. His back stiffens
and he glances about nervously before resting his eyes on you. He
looks like he is going to bolt.
"What are you doing here on such a dreary day?" you ask, hoping to
clear the awkward silence. He says nothing in response.
"Do you need a place to stay?" you ask. His eyes widen in
surprise.
"No normal person stands in a park during a rainstorm." You say to
yourself wondering what he was doing standing in a park during a
rainstorm. He stays silent and you grab his hand and pull him along
saying, "Come on, you can stay with me tonight!"
He allows himself to be brought along as you run the last few blocks to the
apartment you rent. You blast through the front door and run up the
stairs to your front door. You pull out your keys and notice the boy
shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.
"Take off your shoes please." You tell him and he complies still
saying nothing.
"Come on in." You say smiling at him. He walks in meekly
and you could swear that he is sniffing the air. You peel off your
wet coat and the wet shirt underneath and throw them in your laundry basket,
motioning for the boy to do the same. He steps back from you and
shakes his head.
"Okay, whatever." You say shrugging, "Want to come watch TV with
me?" You ask. He nods and you lead him over to your couch and
sit him down, sitting next to him. You pretend not to notice when he
scoots away from you and curls up on the other side of the couch. You flip to a
random Channel and turn your attention to the TV. During the next commercial
break you look over to the boy on the couch to find him sound asleep. You can
also see that he is Shivering.
Figuring that you had better get his wet clothes off before he froze, you
carefully grab the hem of his oversized hoodie and slowly pull it up. Once the
hoodie is off you are able to see just how sickly his skin looks. His skin
appears to be a light grey and you hope it is just the light of the TV that
makes it seem so. Next you carefully remove his T shirt, which was also soaked.
You pull the quilt off the back of the couch and wrap it around him, hoping it
will keep him warm. Taking his clothes you walk over to your dryer and throw
them in while also grabbing a clean shirt for yourself. Walking back to the
couch you can't help but notice how small and meek the boy on your couch looks.
You frown to yourself as you sit back down on the couch.
~2~
(Mathew)
You open your blurry eyes to a very unfamiliar place.
Looking around you remember an energetic boy offering to let you Stay at his
house. You look over and said boy is sound asleep on the couch. You move your
hands to your head to pull down your hood. Your fingers find no fabric atop
your head. You start to panic.
Upon further inspection of yourself you find that both your hoodie and T-shirt
are missing as well. Shocked you stand up quickly, bringing the quilt that had
been covering you with. You frantically begin searching the boy's apartment for
your belongings.
Not finding them worries you greatly. You crawl into the small space beneath
the boy's coffee table and settle down there, feeling less exposed. It seems
like hours before the boy began to stir. You hope he wakes up soon so he can
lead you back to the park you were at last night.
You must have drifted off again because the next thing you remember is the boy
shaking you awake.
"Hey silly, what are you doing under there?" he laughed. You found
yourself blushing. "Come out from under there." He laughed. Slowly
you crawled out from under the table, still keeping your distance from the boy.
"What's your name? Mine's John. "He asked. You simply shake your head
at him. You point at your bare torso to ask where your Clothes are. He simply
says "ah", Stands up and walks towards a door in the wall. Your
curious eyes follow him as he pulls your hoodie and shirt out of his dryer.
"Can you at least tell me something I can call you?" he said as he
handed you your clothes. Again you shake your head. The boy looks disappointed.
"I could call you cat." He snickers I "you sure act like
one."
Instinctively your hands fly to your head and cover your black, furry ears and
the small horns in front of them. John looks at you questioningly. Then it
dawns on you. He hadn't seen them when he took off your hoodie. "What a
stupid kid." you think to yourself. Still upset about his 'name' for you,
you start to search his apartment for something to write with. You can feel his
curious eyes follow you the whole time. After a good five minutes of searching,
you find what you were looking for. You grab one of the many pens on his
computer desk and a blank paper from his printer. On it your write MY NAME IS MATHEW,
and hand it to John.
"Oh." he says, "But why couldn't you have just told me out
loud?" You take the paper back from him and write I CAN'T
SPEAK. You watch his derpy grin slide off his face.
~3~
(John)
Your words die in your mouth and the smile drops from drops
from your face.
"Uh..." you say.
WELL I SHOULD LEAVE NOW he writes on that piece of paper.
"But why?" you say slightly alarmed, "was it something I said,
then I'm sor-"
He cuts you off by shoving his piece of paper in your face. It now says I CAN'T
JUST MOOCH OFF OF YOU. You're stunned by his kindness and consideration.
Looking at him you notice that he is still shirtless.
"Hey, you gonna put your shirt back on or what?" you say. Realizing
that he is shirtless he puts on his shirt and hoodie. Just before he slips his
hood back up you see a pair of black cat ears peeking out of his hair.
"Wait a sec! Are those real?" you say pointing at the ears. He
quickly pulls up his hood to hide them.
"So are you a cat or something? Does that mean you have a cat tail too? Do
you-" you gush, being interrupted by Mathew shoving the paper in front of
your face now saying SHUT THE HELL UP AND STOP BEING NOSY ITS NONE OF YOUR
BUISNESS. This shuts you up. In the silence you swear you can hear your stomach
rumbling, reminding you that you never had dinner last night.
"Hey Mathew, do you want something to eat? I'm starving." you ask as
you stand up and walk towards your kitchen area. You see him reluctantly
shake his head.
"You like eggs? Or do I have to go buy some cat food?" you say
jokingly. You can tell that it made him angry. He furiously scribbles something
on his paper and walks over to you. It says YOU'RE AN A*S. And there are
scribbled out words next to it that seem to say I LIKE EGGS JUST AS MUCH AS
ANYBODY ELSE.
You chuckle and say "Eggs it is."
~4~
(Mathew)
As soon as the food is on the table you are shoveling it
into your mouth. You don't even know how long it’s been since you ate real
food. You can feel John watching you but you don't really care at the moment.
After you finish your eggs you're surprised to find John asking you if you want
more with his derpy grin plastered on his face. With no hesitation you nod your
head and watch eagerly as he puts more eggs on your plate.
Moments later John picks up his plate and walks into the kitchen leaving you on
the couch to eat. You take your time on your seconds, savoring the feeling of
food in your stomach. When John comes back out of the kitchen he still has that
derpy grin on his face and you can't help wondering what he's smiling at. When
you finish eating John takes your plate into the kitchen, and by the time he
comes back out you have written THANK YOU FOR THE FOOD. BUT WHY ARE YOU BEING
SO NICE TO ME? I'M PRACTICALLY A STRANGER. You can tell that he's thinking
about what to say.
"Hehe, I don't know. It just seemed strange to find somebody standing
alone in a park in the middle of a rain storm. I guess I just like helping
people, I mean I would hope that someone would do the same for me." He
says with a thoughtful look on his face.
You think about what he said, surprised by his compassion for others. There was
really only one question left to ask and you don't hesitate to write it. CAN I
STAY?
~5~
(Mathew)
CAN I STAY the paper says. You look up at John hopefully.
You can tell that it caught him off guard.
"Yes, of course you can!" He says enthusiastically. You are so
overcome with joy that you jump up from your chair and hug him, accidentally
pushing him into the back of the couch. Quickly you get off him, blushing
profusely. You give John an apologetic look as he leans forward off the couch
and rubs the small of his back.
"If you want, you can sleep in my room. I can sleep on couch, it's really
no inconvenience.” John says pointing to a door near the washer and dryer. You
look around his small apartment. To your left are the kitchen and a small computer;
to your right are a full size keyboard and the door to his bedroom as well as
the closet with the washer and dryer in them. In front of you are his TV and
couch as well as a door that you assume leads to the bathroom. You grab your
paper and write ARE YOU SURE? You'd rather not stay in a house where you are
unwanted.
"Of course I'm sure; it'll be like a sleepover." He says with the
derpy grin that you are quickly becoming fond of. Even so, you don't trust him.
You rarely trust anyone anymore.
"Hey, wanna see my room?" He asks. You nod, eager to know more about
this boy who selflessly took you in. You follow him as he opens the door and
walks into the small room behind it. Inside the first thing you see is his bed,
covered in sky blue sheets. Looking to his walls you see various trophies and
awards held high on white shelves, which against the baby blue walls, look like
little clouds. You smile at the many pictures of John and a man you assume to
be his father that cover the top of his dresser.
John flops down on his bed and invites you to sit next to him.
"Welcome to your new home Mathew" He says with a smile.
~6~
(John)
It’s been over a month since you first met Mathew.
The first few days were strange. You learned that Mathew is paranoid and hates
storms. That when he eats a lot of sugar he becomes clingy. That his
life hasn't been a good one. And you hope that you can change that
for the better.
He asked you about your dad a lot. You told him all about what it was like
growing up with your dad, the stuff you used to do together, how he practically
kicked you out when you turned 18 saying that you were old enough to be your
own man.
Every night you went out to your job at the local bookstore where you
worked from four to eight. You thought about Mathew a lot while you were
working. The first time you left him at home alone you were distracted through
your whole shift worrying about him, only to come home and find him curled up
on your bed.
When you practiced piano after you got home from school you could always see
him watching out the corner of your eye. Sometimes you even pretended that you
were playing for him. It was one of the few times you saw him smile.
Life had treated the two of you considerably well in the last month and
you are grateful for it.
~7~
(John)
You come home, hang your raincoat on a peg on the wall and
run your hands through your wet hair. You frown, the storm outside is getting
bad. You hope it hasn't freaked Mathew out yet. You walk into your bedroom to
check on him, and find him curled up in his little pile of blankets next to
your closet. You remember the day when he took most of your blankets and
pillows and made a pile in the corner saying that it was his bed. You had
laughed and told him not to live like a hobo, but you guess he doesn't care.
"Mathew, you okay?" You say, hoping the storm hasn't gotten to him.
When he gives no response you crouch down next to him. You move a blanket off of
his face and see that he is asleep. You breathe a sigh of relief.
You stand up and leave the room, making sure to close the door behind you. You
walk quietly over to your piano, careful to turn the volume down so you don't
wake Mathew. You pull your sheet music out of its bag and begin to play.
It hadn't been long before you heard the door to your bedroom squeak open. You
kept playing, knowing that Mathew was getting comfortable on the edge of the
couch. You get through around two more pieces before you hear him shifting
around. Then about two bars into your favorite piece, Showtime, you hear Mathew
sneeze.
"Aww, you sneeze like a kitten." You say impulsively. He looks up at
you angrily, and looks for one of the many pads of paper now placed about your
apartment. When he finds one he writes I AM NOT A CAT.
"What are you then?" You ask. Mathew freezes up. You wait for him to
start writing but he continues to gawk at you.
"Well?" You say hoping to prompt an answer from him, realizing how
curious you really have been about what he is. He still makes no move to write.
You can tell that the question has made him uncomfortable but you really want
to know. You watch him slowly move his pen to the paper and write something
there. He shows you the paper.
IT’S NONE OF YOUR F*****G BUSINESS!
~8~
(John)
No matter what you do, you can't get Mathew to tell you
anything about himself. You don't want to be nosy but you want to know more
about the boy you have taken in. You had hoped that he would warm up to you but
now you worry that he never will.
-----
You wake up to the sound of your alarm. You roll over and smack your clock,
turning it off. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you slowly crawl out of bed
and hobble to the bathroom. Pushing lightly on the door you step
forward into the small room. You make it about two steps before you run into
something. You later identify it as Mathew in nothing but his boxers. Before he
can turn around you make out a long, jagged scar running from his right
shoulder to his left hip. Impulsively you reach out your hand, intending to run
it along the scar. Instead Mathew turns around, his face showing a mixture of
fear, anger, and embarrassment. You stand there like an idiot, arm outstretched
and face colored with curiosity and pity. It is simply too much for your brain
to handle right away in the morning.
"Good morning Mathew." Is all you can manage to say. You are sure
that your curiosity shows on your face like a giant neon sign saying 'I want to
know'. You stand in the small room facing Mathew, saying nothing more. Mathew
grabs his shirt, throwing it on before he grabs his hoodie and leaves the room.
Knowing that following him would just make him more uncomfortable you begin
your morning routine.
-----
You walk out of the bathroom and into the kitchen; towel still perched on your
head. You throw together a quick breakfast of toast and jelly for yourself,
wrapping it up in a napkin. Grabbing the toast you head for the door, throwing
your wet towel at the washer and quickly pulling on a heavy coat and shoes.
Just as you are about to open the door your progress is halted by Mathew
pulling your sleeve to get your attention. The piece of paper he is holding
reads WHERE ARE YOU GOING?
"To the park." You say, "You can come with if you want." He
nods. The next ten or so minutes are spent looking for warm clothes for Mathew
to wear, his usual hoodie not being warm enough. Finally you grab your keys and
lock the door behind you and Mathew as you begin the walk down the ten or so
blocks between your house and the park. As you walk you can see your breath
which eventually turns into you pretending to be a dragon in hopes that it will
clear the unpleasant silence. You swear you saw him smile just a little bit.
When you get to the park you immediately lead Mathew to the playground, your
favorite place to go even though most people would say that you were far too
old, being a sophomore in college. You often come here to think or sometimes
write music. You sit at the bottom of the biggest slide and relax, letting the
sounds of nature fill your ears, only interrupted by Mathew's occasional
footsteps.
You lose track of time. Your thoughts are interrupted by a cold sensation on
your forehead. You open your eyes to a light snow. Out of the corner of your
eye you see Mathew playing with the light flakes. Laughing you stand up calling
out to Mathew. You lead him down the path to the lake, knowing how beautiful it
looks in winter. The entire lake is frozen over, making it a popular spot for
ice skaters. You sneak a sideways glance at Mathew. His eyes are wide and a
small grin shows from beneath the scarf you made him wear. You grab his hand
and slowly pull him onto the ice, letting go when he finds his balance. You
push off, sliding across the ice. A laugh finds its way out of your mouth.
"C'mon Mathew, give it a try!" You yell.
-----
You play on the ice until your cheeks are rosy red. Carefully you step off the
ice, holding a hand out to Mathew. He steps off and you begin the walk back
home. The wind swirls snowflakes around you as you walk. You find yourself
thanking the snow for a wonderful day. It's not until you get home that you
realize that you have a giant grin plastered on your face.
~9~
(John)
You peel off your heavy coat and take off your soaking
shoes, throwing both in a pile in front of your washer and dryer. You go to
your room while Mathew does the same, grabbing a hoodie for yourself and
throwing it on to ward off the cold. Wondering back out into the living room
you see Mathew sitting on the couch still wearing his sopping hoodie. You can't
say that you are surprised.
"Mathew, you'll freeze to death if you keep that on." you say
pointing to his hoodie. Heating your apartment costs a lot so you tend to keep
the heat off unless you really need it.
"C'mon, you'll get sick." You say. He slowly pulls the hoodie off and
you take it from him, throwing it into the washer along with the coats that
were piled in front, leaving the shoes for another load of laundry. By the time
you come back to the couch Mathew has cocooned himself in a thick
blanket. You sit down next to him and switch on the TV.
-----
By the time you get bored the clock on your DVR reads 8:47. You stand up and
stretch. You hate sitting still for long periods of time, it makes you feel
jumpy and anxious. You make it about two steps before you feel something wet
hit the back of your head. You grab Mathew's shirt off of your head and turn
around just in time to see him curling back up under the blanket. You sigh and
throw the wet shirt in the direction of the dryer and head into the kitchen to
get what you had originally intended to get. You grab a glass from the cabinet
and fill it with water from the tap. You run your hand through your now wet
hair.
"Mathew, you want anything." You say in the direction of the couch.
You half expect him to throw a crumpled paper at you or something. You wait for
some kind of response.
When no response comes you wander back to the couch only to find Mathew
sprawled out on his stomach dead asleep. At first you are alarmed. Thinking
back as far as the day you brought him home you realize that never once has he
slept in any other way than curled up in a ball. Slowly you calm down. You can
tell that there is nothing wrong, which leads you to think that he has finally
become comfortable with you. Your eyes leave the back of his head and roam down
to his back, left uncovered by the blanket.
Quietly you kneel down on the floor next to him and reach out to his scar. You
run your hand down the entire length of it, feeling the uneven skin. From the
little knowledge about scars that you have, you know that it never healed
properly, and at some points you see dark grey flecks that look like little
chunks of metal. You really wish you knew more about his past. You wish you
knew how to help him.
You cover him back up with the blanket and walk to the front door, closing it
quietly behind you. You need some time alone, to hate the person who did that
to him. You stop walking, thoughts buzzing in your head. Only one is at the
front of your mind. Why do you care so much about this boy?
(Mathew)
You close your eyes, safe in the feeling that you no longer have to hide one of
your biggest secrets from him.
~10~
(Mathew)
You wake up to a cold and quiet apartment. You roll from
your stomach to your side and slide off the couch. You leave the blanket behind
and look around for John. Last you had checked he went outside. First you check
the bedroom, then the kitchen, and then the bathroom. Finding no evidence of
the boy's presence, you open the front door, shivering as the cold air hits
your exposed chest.
You look around for him, hoping that he isn't far. It doesn't take long for you
to find him slumped against the side of the house, fast asleep. As quickly as
you can you pull him onto your back and begin trudging back to the open door.
Every step makes your muscles groan and your back ache. You were never strong,
and this was pushing your limits.
You finally get him back inside the house. You plop him down on the couch and
shut the door. You walk towards the bedroom, stopping on the way to throw a
blanket over John. You grab up your own pile of blankets and carry it out into
the living room, setting it down next to the couch. Tired and cold you curl up
under the blankets and drift back to sleep.
~11~
(John)
You wake up slowly, your muscles groaning from sleeping in a
strange position. You stretch, reaching up with your arms and curving your
back. You groan at the feeling of your muscles pulling tight. Yawning, you sit
upright, absentmindedly reaching for your glasses resting on the dresser next
to your bed. Your hand finds no dresser, only open air. Confused, you grope
about, trying to figure out where you are. In your clumsy efforts you feel
yourself slide off whatever you were sleeping on. You brace yourself for
hitting the floor, but instead you hit something considerably softer. It makes
a loud noise somewhere between a squawk and a groan. In your morning blindness
you can just barely make out Mathew lying under you.
"Sorry, sorry." you mumble, trying to get of the other boy before you
hurt him. Mathew just sighs and helps push you off.
Before you try standing up you ask, "Hey, do you know where my glasses
are?" Thankfully he nods and reaches over to the table beside
the couch and grabs your glasses. You don't notice him wince. He hands you your
glasses and lies back down in his pile of blankets. You put them on and stand
up, thankful for being able to see.
The clock reads ten thirty, making you glad that it's Sunday and not Monday.
You hobble over to the bathroom and hop in the shower.
-----
When you get out a good fifteen minutes later Mathew is still laying on the
floor. You announce that you're out of the shower and that he can get in. You
decide to make coffee for yourself. Even though you hate the way it tastes you
still drink it from time to time if you're in need of something to wake you up.
With morning slowness you start the coffee maker you had gotten from your
sister a long time ago. Sometimes you feel bad about not using it more. Around
five minutes later you sit down on the couch, knees up to your chest, and flip
on the TV. You find a news channel and settle back into the couch to drink your
coffee. It doesn't take long for your mind to busy itself thinking about how
strange it is with Mathew.
You are brought out of your thoughts by Mathew poking your knee. He is holding
a piece of paper that says ARE YOU JUST GOING TO STARE OFF INTO SPACE ALL DAY
OR CAN WE GO DO SOMETHING? Without realizing it you had spent an hour and a
half staring off into space.
"Hehe, sorry, I guess I lost track of time, what do you want to do? You
say, putting your now cold coffee down and stretching out your legs. He writes,
CAN WE GO BACK TO THAT PARK? You nod, smile across your face. You swear that
you see his eyes light up. You stand up and head towards the door, Mathew
following along behind.
-----
You spend the day in pretty much the same way as you had yesterday. As boring
as it is for you it's worth it every time you see Mathew smile. It makes your
heart jump to see him enjoying himself. You follow him down to the pond,
surprised when he grabs your hand and pulls you onto the ice. You get a warm
feeling in your chest. You skate away the afternoon.
-----
"Mathew, let’s stay for the sunset." You say as you huddle next to
him on the ground. He nods, smile still on his face. You'd never say it out
loud, but he looks adorable when he smiles. You blush at the thought. Mathew
grabs your hand again. You stay huddled together, bodies as close as possible,
foreheads touching, to ward off the cold. Even so, you don't feel cold at all.
You smile at him, looking into his eyes. You had never noticed their color. Bright
red, filled with more emotions than there are words for. Out the corner of your
eye you see the sun start to set, but at the moment you couldn't care less. You
lean your head forward farther so that your nose is touching his, still looking
into his eyes, searching for answers to the many questions you've asked. When
the sun starts to sink below the horizon you can see it reflected in his eyes.
Without warning he moves his lips to yours and kisses you, the last light from
the sun hitting your faces.
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