bamboo doesn't grow in dark spaces. [80K Words / Complete]

chapter fourteen. 💚

"Do you like being scared?"

A nervous, giddy energy fluttered in Case's chest. He looked down, hiding his face as a half-smile and tittering laugh escaped him. His vocal cords were almost healed, allowing him to give a crackly reply,  "Uh . . . yeah. Sometimes."

"What's your favorite scary movie?"

Case bit his bottom lip, thinking. His mind ran through blood and gore. Monsters and demons. Terror, the sustained sense of dread and anticipation of fear. "I don't know. OG A Nightmare on Elm Street is always a classic."

Sir hummed, approving. "Ooh, I know that one. That's, uh . . ." He clicked, as if scraping his memory banks. "Freddy Kleuger."

"Krueger," Case corrected, smiling through his voice crack. Sir made those kind of small mistakes quite a bit. He'd never admit it (not even to himself) but Case thought these blunders were endearing. They softened Sir's edges, made him seem more like a goofy dad or a charming stranger.

"That's the one," Sir replied, snapping his fingers. "Why, I remember sneaking into the theater to see that one when I was just a boy. Scared the bejesus outta me." He smiled. A genuine smile—rare, only recognizable by his dimples.

Case chuckled. He liked these moments. He probably spent half of his waking hours wishing these meetings would come sooner (the other half, wishing he could go home). He enjoyed—no, needed—the human interaction. The normality. So much so that he didn't even register he was required to strip down to his underwear.

He pulled his shirt over his head, going through the motions of their PG-strip show, his mind still on horror movies and fictional monsters. "I snuck in on my older brother's sleepover once, and they were all watching the remake," he continued. "I was like seven or eight, and yeah, it scared the fuck out of me, too."

Case knew time had passed. He knew by the way Sir's bruises turned from dark purple to sickly yellow-green (how long did bruises take to heal? Two weeks? Three?). But he also knew by how comfortable he was becoming, the unconscious easing of his boundaries. The way he missed Sir when he eventually left.

"Wait!" he said one day as Sir was about to leave him standing alone in his underwear, yet again. Sir paused, turning around to look at him, and Case had no shame in asking, "When are you coming back?"

A wolfish smirk. "Why?" he asked, his tone now dark and teasing. "Will you miss me?"

In his gut, Case answered yes. He hated the loneliness, the boredom, the nothingness. He craved human connection, if not the touch then the sound of a voice other than his own. He wanted to admit yes, I will miss you, but instead he managed to compose himself. He shrugged. "No, it's fine. I've got a rat in the wall to keep me company, so . . ."

Sir smiled knowingly. "Oh, Casey," he replied softly, his tone taking a dark yet alluring turn. "You're never alone down here. But that doesn't mean you can't miss me when I'm gone."

Wait . . . What? Confusion and realization worked through his brain like thick molasses pouring from a jug. Is . . . is he . . . ?

Yes, Casey, the voice resounded through the dizzy haze in his head. He's flirting with you.

Case was still in a lightheaded daze, still accepting the voice's words as reality, when Sir chuckled from the stairwell; as if he could see the inner-conflict playing out on Case's face. Or maybe he really could see right through Case, read his mind and reach into the dark and ugly recesses of his psyche where Case didn't want to go.

Case spent the rest of the night unable to sleep, restless and fixated on trying to define whatever the fuck this relationship was turning into. There was a fine line between friendly and flirtatious. If a girl spoke to Case the way Sir did, of course he'd be over thinking whether their banter was loaded with sexual subtext. The fact Sir was a man should have made it easier, but instead it made everything worse. Confusing. Uncomfortable. Scary. And Case had never liked having to sit with his own thoughts and feelings.