Eternal

Eternal - Chapter 10

Larry

There are good days and bad days and nothing much in between.

For the weeks leading up to Laurent's second round of chemo, Larry comes up with a color code to differentiate between them. 

Green is for good days. On green days, they go out for a walk or hit the basketball court and it's almost like they are back to normal. Laurent will wake up with a smile and demand for Larry to make him breakfast and Larry will complain and rant about Laurent being spoiled, but inside his heart will do flips of joy. Green days are for dancing and sports and taking the stairs instead of  the elevator. Green days are for singing and bickering and calling their family and friends to show them there's nothing to worry about. 

Orange is different. On orange days, they stay indoors and watch a movie or do something that doesn't require physical strength. Orange is for sleeping in and for Larry to play softly with Laurent's hair while they lay in bed and listen to music until the headache becomes too bad and they have to stop. Sometimes they'll cook together or watch YouTube videos. Sometimes they call their coach for guidance and uplifting words of motivation. 

Red days are for Larry only.

He knows it right away today, right after he wakes up. 

Laurent is still fast asleep on the mattress next to him. He looks peaceful and young and Larry feels a love so deep that it scares him. He cards his hand through his brother's afro in a tender gesture, but when he pulls it back out, some of his twin's hair comes with it. Larry blinks at his hand for a second and the world just kind of stops turning. He's not breathing as he stares at the dark frizz of his brother's hair tangled around his shaking fingers.

Red then.

He thinks.

Today is red.

He bites his bottom lip as his eyes fill with tears and then he drags himself up slowly. His head feels empty, his body moving mechanically as he makes his way into the bathroom. He closes the door and takes the electric shaver from the shelf before looking at himself in the mirror. Larry switches the flick and revels in the buzz of the shaver in his knuckle-white grip. He puts the tip of the razor down against the skin on his forehead and slowly glides it back along the curve of his skull. The frizzy twirls of hair sail through the air and down into the basin as he shaves it all off. It's a matter of five minutes. Then he's done, switches the shaver off. He gets rid of the hair and his fingers are not even shaking anymore. He puts on his durag and climbs back into bed, snuggling deeper into the residual warmth trapped under the blanket. Laurent stirs in his sleep, eyelashes fluttering and Larry snuggles close and wraps his arms around his twin before he's fully awake. 

Laurent goes rigid in his hold, feeling him tremble. 

"Larry?" he whispers and it's too much.

Larry tightens his hold and burrows his face in Laurent's neck to hide his tears, but they fall anyway and Laurent can feel them hot and damp against his skin.

Laurent's shaky hand reaches up to the back of Larry's head and his breath hitches. It takes no more than a second for Laurent to realize why his head feels different, why the duraq isn't cushioned by Larry's afro anymore. That Larry is bald beneath the fabric. He pulls it off anyway, as if he half expects for Larry's fluffy hair to flop out from beneath its hiding space. But instead, the black silk slides off and reveals Larry's bald skull, nothing left of the once so luscious curls. It breaks something inside of him. Laurent doesn't have to ask why. His eyes fill with tears as he ghosts his trembling fingers over his brother's head. Larry can see the moment it fully hits him.

"N-no. You..." 

"You have to match me now," Larry whispers, offering a tremulous smile. "You said if I did it, you'd do it too, remember?"

Laurent doesn't smile back at him. 

His lips are quivering before he clamps them together to try and withhold his pain.

"You didn't have to-to... you shouldn't have-- Why did you do that?" 

Larry just shakes his head at him because Laurent knows why. 

He knows. 

"Because you and me, we're the same." 

Laurent cries then. Big ugly tears and choked-off breaths and hiccups and fistfuls of clothes to bring him impossibly closer and Larry just holds him tight and whispers words that have no meaning at all.

It takes a long time for Laurent to calm down again and for the sobs to subside into hitched breaths and little hiccups. Eventually, he works himself to the brink of exhaustion and the tears cease altogether. He ghosts his fingertips over the smooth curve of Larry's head where his fro used to be and his eyes are glassy with pain.

"Larry," he whimpers and Larry wants to cry too, but it's okay.

It's okay.

Today is red.

Tomorrow will be better.