RAIN

Chapter four

Rain's movement behind him made him look away from the window. Jet turned, still distrusting. From the darkness, Rain materialized as he returned to the room, dressed in dry clothes. His long hair, liberated from the ponytail, framed his heart-shaped face. He was carrying something with him.

"May I look at your arm?" he asked.

"Sure," Jet said. He pulled himself away from his thoughts and the window.

He sat on the sofa and folded his sleeve to the elbow. There was a crimson bruise on the inside of his forearm, the culprit for all the pain he was experiencing. He sighed, his eyes lifting to track Rain's movements across the room. He knelt before Jet and opened the metal box. He opened the old metal box. Inside was a mound of medical items.

"You said you have a phone. Can I use it?" Jet asked.

"My aunt took it with her. You can call whoever you wish when she gets home."

Jet chuckled, not because he found the situation amusing but because this story was becoming increasingly bizarre.

"It's raining heavily. Don't you think you should try to find your aunt?" he asked.

Rain ignored the question. He started massaging an ointment onto Jet's forearm. He gritted his teeth each time Rain's fingers touched the bruised area.

"This medicine will work soon. I'll bandage your arm now. Are you hurt anywhere else?" Rain asked. He started unwinding a piece of bandage from a wad. He picked up the scissors from the box and cut off a piece.

"My ribs do not feel so good."

The cool sting of the muscle rub and the scent of menthol and camphor reminded him of his childhood. He looked at the small jar sitting in Rain's lap. He had seen the same one on his grandmother's nightstand. She had told Jet that it was the only thing that worked on her arthritis pain. He was beginning to believe her.

"Take off your shirt. I will look at it for you. We have to make sure it isn't serious."

"Sure, why not?"

He smiled and started unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes concentrated on Rain and the pair of scissors sitting in the first aid box.

He peeled his shirt back. Rain's eyes became focused on his physique.

"You must spend a lot of time in the gym," Rain said, straining to keep his eyes lowered. "You have a nice body."

Jet's ears grew warm. He smiled and said, "I go now and again. It keeps my mind calm, and my body fit - oh - oww - ahh!"

Subconsciously, he grabbed Rain's wrist. He wasn't even aware of how tenacious his grip was. Rain did not flinch. He stared at Jet with curious and sympathetic eyes.

Realizing what he was doing, Jet's grip slackened. Rain's wrist fell away, taking a deepening shade of crimson on his fair, velvety skin in the shape of Jet's fingers with it. The look in his eyes made Jet feel like he was a monster.

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" Jet asked.

Rain shook his head, yet the bruise left on his wrist was an unmistakable indication that he did. Jet remembered what Rain had told him about his grandfather. His eyes dropped to the floor as guilt rose in his chest.

"May I continue?" Rain asked.

Jet looked at him. Rain was an odd character. He was strange and uneasy to read. But he was submissive and docile, a result of the life he lived.

"Yes." He smiled slightly, trying to make up for his mistake. "Rain, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to grab you like that. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. You didn't hurt me. It isn't broken." He pointed at Jet's bruised ribs. "May I?"