After Last Night | Chilumi

Chapter 03: An unfinished letter

The doorbell wouldn't stop ringing. Still half-asleep under the gentle touch of a blue blanket, I continued to wriggle on the couch, trying to find the cushion I was using as a pillow. The doorbell never stopped, but my mind did. My head was starting to ache from the thunderous sound and the insistence of the person behind the door.

"No one's home!" I shouted without making any further movement. I was barely regaining consciousness when a voice in the distance started speaking to me without any decorum.

"Childe, open up."

I recognized that voice instantly and knew it would be healthy for me to reject it bluntly over the sound of my voice. Unfortunately, Scaramouche kept insisting, and that stupid doorbell kept drilling into my head relentlessly. The solution was to give it a punch or let it in.

I got up from the couch and looked around for my shirt. I remembered the night before and all my previous movements one by one: I got angry, cursed at everyone non-existent around me, ate three bags of unhealthy snacks mixed with vodka, and wandered around all night trying to write a letter to Lumine. The failed drafts were on the coffee table, on the couch and on the floor. Some were crumpled. Others, intact. With each step, I approached the door and the answer I was looking for: everything I had done the night before happened without me wearing a shirt, so I said "Screw it" in my mind and pretended disinterest with myself.

In the end, I opened the door without being able to see very well, my eyes still clouded and certain strands of disheveled hair bothering me. Scaramouche looked me up and down, judging every detail of a barely awakened me. He smiled sideways mockingly.

"Did you get any sleep?"

"No. Did you?" I leaned against the door frame. As I replied, my eyes closed on their own, and my hair covered them invasively again. Scaramouche took advantage of my distraction to pass under my extended arm and enter my home. I turned around, closed the door, and followed him into the kitchen.

"Do I look like I didn't sleep?" he asked ironically.

The truth was he didn't. Somehow, despite the circumstances and all the work, he still looked like a typical teenager trapped in the body of a young adult. Behind his back, a backpack clung to him; in his hands, a passport and his cell phone.

"It's seven in the morning..." I replied with a hint of complaint.

Scaramouche felt right at home without needing me to tell him, I supposed he was used to letting himself get comfortable every time he came to play video games at my apartment. I noticed this slip because I got distracted for a moment looking at the floor and searching for my slippers, and when I looked up, he was already taking a bottle of milk and my favorite box of cereal from the cupboard. He took out a deep plate and filled it with those chocolate cereals. He poured the remaining contents of the glass bottle over them. After that, he made a gesture with his hand for me to sit at the kitchen counter. He settled for taking an apple from the fruit bowl that was right in front of me.

I wasn't hungry and didn't feel the need to fill my stomach so early, but Scaramouche handed me a spoon: I had to do it if I didn't want him to get irritated at these horrible hours of the morning, and if he got irritated, I would be forced to break his teeth so he wouldn't whine bitterly. I sighed heavily, and after waiting a few seconds in silence, I took the spoon and dipped it into the milk and cereal and brought the bite to my mouth. Disgustingly moist for all the time I took to decide whether to eat or not.

"I have to be at the airport in an hour to go to Inazuma. Don't complain and listen to me. Did you talk to Lumine?" he asked directly. I looked at him while still chewing the cereal. I didn't want to admit it, but I was hungry, and the milk mixed with chocolate provoked an indescribable taste for me. From my face there was only a grimace that avoided bringing out a satisfied smile.