Three Means Coffee

43

Makary was focused on what he should do and a bit terrified of how much Błażej was absent-minded. He even considered dragging him to the hospital by force, but after he fell asleep, he decided that he would just monitor the situation on a regular basis and react if something happened. He did the dishes and called Monika with the information.

"I will kill him," said Błażej's cousin, when she found out what was behind the lack of contact and her worries. "If you say he's so bad, maybe I'll come back tomorrow morning."

"I'll take care of him," Makary replied with full conviction. "Don't change your plans."

"Are you sure that won't be a problem for you? I do not know how I will repay you for this," Monika almost cried, touched by his attitude.

"I'll manage and make sure he recovers and rests."

"Good luck, with that" the young woman laughed. "You'll see how stubborn he can be. Just keep me updated."

After this conversation, Makary finally had time to look around the small two-room apartment that Błażej was renting with his friend. The tiny, poorly equipped kitchen, where he didn't feel very at ease, indicated that two young students lived there. He looked into the refrigerator and sighed heavily at its poor supply. He knew he would have to work on it. He returned to Błażej's room, took a chair from the desk, placed it next to the bed, and sat down, staring at the patient's face. He covered him with a blanket, glad that it was the one he had given him. The desk where Błażej worked was small and cluttered. There was a corkboard on it with a monthly schedule and lots of sticky notes pinned to it. The stack of books on the counter was also marked with different coloured tabs, Makary was pretty sure that each colour had a meaning.

There was a larger wardrobe in the corner, with cardboard boxes sticking out of some familiar things. He got up and looked at them closely, remembering that he had seen something similar in a haberdashery he had once visited with Błażej. He frowned, realizing that it probably wasn't about any buttons. One of the colours of the yarn was the same as the Christmas ornaments Błażej had given him. He clenched his fists, trying hard to push away thoughts of lying. He would have asked for an explanation if he hadn't been able to bring himself to torture his already sick lover.

There was also a table in the middle of the room, and strange, metal objects with curved ends were lying on it. He didn't know what they were for and didn't touch them, but he knew he should ask Błażej as soon as he woke up. He went back to the chair and let his head drop, worried while allowing himself a little anger. He calmed down as he looked at the sick man and touched his forehead to see if the fever had subsided a little.

"What am I doing wrong that you don't want to trust me?" he asked quietly, knowing there was no point in expecting an answer.

It was late in the evening, meanwhile, he made a shopping list, watched some stupid videos on the Internet, and tried to read one of the books that were on the desk, but it successfully put him to sleep. Makary woke up when he heard Błażej, but he pretended that it didn't happen when, by the glow of street lamps from behind the window, he saw him covering his eyes with one hand and laughing quietly.

"But I didn't dream it. The most handsome man I've ever met sits by my bedside when I'm sick and feel like a wreck," he said hoarsely. "It's good you're sleeping. I wanted to apologize to you. Maybe if I do it now I'll be able, to tell the truth later finally. Now there's no point in hiding anything, is there?"