Visage | ONC 2023

SEVEN:

Covered in blood, Gerry sat at the table closest to the door. His leg bounced as he stared at the puddles of red on the floor. He scratched at his hands, then observed his nails. His moment of disgust was relatable.

Having grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge, I passed it over to him. He glanced at it before averting his gaze. "That doesn't work."

I cocked a brow. So, the whole water thing was bullshit, huh? I knew it. I pursed my lips. "Humor me."

He looked up at me when I refused to move. He waited a minute but grabbed the water. "Fine," he muttered.

I understand how he felt. I knew the feeling. Sitting with someone else's blood on you wasn't great. It was hot, gross, and honestly... made you question yourself. Gerry needed a moment. And I needed new clothes.

I turned away from Gerry, giving him his space to mentally sulk. I needed to do the same thing. Looking down at my chest, I stared at the rips in my tee. It wasn't my favorite, but it was still a good shirt. The white was gone, stained dark red and black. The blood crusted over, and it itched. Tugging at the color, I pulled it off over my head.

I carried my shirt with me as I walked over to the windows. I took one glance outside, making sure that the 'customer' who'd bothered Gerry earlier was long gone. Once I knew the streets were empty, I closed the blinds. Then I sighed.

I hope that guy doesn't find Riley or Fiona. They don't need that tonight.

"Ugh," I sighed as I looked down at my body. My right arm, with the half sleeve I wanted to complete one day, was redder than the rest of me. Lifting it closer to my face, I noticed my skin was broken. Teeth marks dug into my tattoo. I pinched my brows together, confused because I couldn't remember him biting me.

Was my adrenaline so high that I hadn't felt the attack? Or was it because I was infected too that the moment made me numb?

When I looked back at Gerry, his normal pale returned to his face. His breathing slowed. He humored me because his water was halfway gone.

I licked my lip as I pushed off the door and approached him. "So," I cleared my throat, "are you going to cut the bullshit?"

Gerry shifted his eyes to me. They hadn't gone back to normal; parts were still red and bloodshot. "I don't—"

No. We weren't going to play this game. Pulling a chair, I flipped it so I sat with my legs on either side of the back of it. "I said cut it. What's going on here?"

Gerry sighed and rubbed his face. "It's hard... really hard to explain."

I blinked, unphased. "I bet it is. So, try."

He didn't try. Instead, he fell silent. And the sound of it took over the room. I heard our heartbeats, and our breathing; I even heard the gentle sputtering of a coffee machine we hadn't shut off.

Gerry leaned back in his seat but remained silent. He blinked at me, slowly.

I shook my head. Since he doesn't want to talk... "We're infected," I pointed at him and then at myself, "but that isn't news to you, right? This is normal. Our normal."

Gerry squeezed his eyes shut. "Axel..."

Chewing on my bottom lip, I glanced out the side window I hadn't blocked from view; not that anyone would peer through it. Too far off to the side, and hard to get to from the sidewalk. But a pigeon had landed on the ledge, its beady eyes peering at me from the other end of the glass. I watched its wings flap, and its head shake; I wondered... were animals the carrier of the virus? I wondered if it was ever announced. Considering I had fallen deathly ill at the beginning, I could've missed it.