First Light

65 own bubble

Monday 16th of May 2022 (the following week)

Faye:

It has been the whole day and Marlo still hasn't replied. I texted him sometime in the afternoon, but it is the evening now. I know he has classes today, so he's probably busy with that plus assignments, but I can't help thinking maybe I'm being ignored.

Gia must see my frown because she nudges me from across the kitchen table, making me look up.

"Everything okay?" She asks, her hand holding one of the tacos that we made a few minutes ago.

"Marlo hasn't replied in a while. It's starting to worry me a bit." I answer.

"Have you called him?"

I make a face. "I don't want to annoy him. What if he's busy with an assignment or something?"

"True. Is he in the accommodation?"

I check his location, and then turn the phone around to show her. "Looks like it."

"You can go and see him, if you want. I can wrap these up so you can have them later."

I feel guilty that she even suggested this, as if me and her don't spend every day together.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

She smiles. "Faye, of course. He might be in a weird mood right now. I know I'd want to check on Mikel if that was me."

I return her smile, sliding out my chair so I can stand up.

"I'll see you later. Make sure you don't eat all of mine." I point to the remainder of the tacos.

"I won't," Gia replies, then squints her eyes. "There may be a couple missing when you come back, I can't promise anything."

I go back to my room to put on some shoes, shoving my phone and my keys into my sweatpants so I can get back into my flat later.

When I reach Marlo's floor I try calling him, but he doesn't answer. I feel my face form into a deeper frown as I text him.

Marlo I'm outside ur flat
Could u at least reply so ik ur okay?

To my surprise, 3 grey dots pop up onto the screen, and I wait for his response.

Give me a minute

A few seconds pass before the door handle turns to reveal Marlo. I almost gasp when I see him, my hand unconsciously going to my mouth. There is no trace of smile on his face at all, no happiness at seeing me. No visible reaction, really, at all, which is what scares me. I am reminded of how he looked before he wandered off into the woods, except something is different, just a little. Like there is no life inside of him at all, as if he is just a physical body and nothing more. A vessel.

I begin to speak, to ask him what's wrong, but he shakes his head slightly at me as if he wants to cut me off but doesn't want to use his words to tell me to. It suddenly dawns on me that this must be why he didn't pick up, why he didn't feel like texting back. I know there's no way he went to class today. He has been stuck in his room the whole time, maybe even for longer than today.

While I am coming to this realisation, he is turning away from me to walk back into the flat. I catch the door as he lets go of it, my ring clinking against the wood. Wordlessly, he pushes down the handle to his door and wordlessly, I follow him. Even before I am completely inside, he has slumped back onto his bed, with no intention of even hugging me. I don't take offence to this, though, because I am understanding more as I take in his room.

It is way messier than it usually is, like he hasn't bothered to clean it since the last time I was over, which was last Thursday. This isn't long at all, but the state of it makes it look like the time was a lot longer. Packets of food and clothes are discarded on the floor, and I'm unsure whether they are clean or dirty. There are a couple of unwashed dishes and cups on his desk, too. I wonder when was the last time he opened a window. My initial impulse is to help clean and tidy the room, but Marlo needs to be made a priority.

As I walk across to open the window and the curtains a little to let the last of the evening light in, I decide to speak to him in sentences rather than questions, and to only ask him things that need a yes or no answer, so he doesn't have to use his voice.

"Is it okay if I help you shower? I think it might help you feel better."

His head turns from its place on the pillow, so I know that he's heard me. After a moment, he nods slightly. I try not to stare at him as he pushes himself to an upright position, but it looks as though it physically hurts him to move. I wonder if it does, if it's not just in his mind.

He lets me take his hand to guide him into the bathroom, and he sits on the closed toilet seat as I gather shower products. I make sure the temperature of the water is warm but not too hot that it scalds his skin, and then I help him slowly out of his clothes, throwing them out into his room so they don't get wet. I am right about earlier, about it being a physical pain, too, because dark marks line his skin, on nearly every inch of his skin that his T-shirt was hiding. I hope the water doesn't make them sting too badly.

A couple seconds of him sitting on the shower floor and me trying to help from outside the curtain proves futile: water drenches the floor immediately. I hesitate for a second because I don't want him to think I'm trying to turn this into something sexual. I tell him this, and he nods slowly, his eyes trained on a spot on the wall behind me. I step out of my clothes so I'm still in my underwear and kneel next to him on the shower floor so that we're the same level. He turns to me as I reposition the shower head so that it is our height.

His eyes are glazed over like he is looking, but not seeing. The whole time I am washing him I don't try and start a conversation because I know that he doesn't want that. He's almost completely unresponsive to anything that's happening, and I have to bite down on my tongue so I don't cry because I hate seeing him like this. Seeing him suffering.

We spend a good 30 minutes in the shower before I think it's been enough. It would've taken a shorter time, but I didn't want to risk hurting him from scrubbing too hard. I dry him gently with one of the towels and then tell him to wait while I go back into his room to find clean clothes he and I can wear. After moisturiser plus the products he uses in his curls, he is done, and starting to look a little better.

He waits in the bathroom as I change the sheets for his bed, and then tries to immediately lie down on them when I say it's okay for him to come in. I stop him, though.

"I don't know when the last time it was you ate," I explain. "I'll make something quick for you and then we can go to sleep, I promise."

The only response he gives me is dark eyes flicking to look at mine. I take the rubbish and the dirty dishes through with me as I go into the kitchen, making a quick sandwich for him as well as filling up a glass with water. When I return to his room, I put on two episodes of Regular Show for him so that he doesn't feel like I'm watching him eat. After the second episode, I hand him his toothbrush and take out my phone to text Gia that I'll be staying over at Marlo's for the night so she doesn't wonder where I am.

When he has finished brushing his teeth, I leave a gap between us on the bed in case he doesn't want to cuddle, but he pulls me close to him anyway, and it takes everything in me to not burst into tears right there. This is the first time today that he's given a proper kind of response. It's just us two in our own bubble and I forget about everything else for a moment. Time ceases to exist.

About a minute passes before I speak, in a low whisper to not startle him. "I wish we had met sooner. I would've been able to know you and love you longer."

I have no idea if he even really hears me, if my words process in his brain, but I don't want to ask if he's listening to me because that would make him speak and I know he doesn't want to right now.

I make sure that he falls asleep before I let myself.