The Dark We Hold

Now

The lights flicked on in the bedroom at the end of the hallway. Kovit sighed, rubbing his eyes with the base of his palms. That was the fourth time this week. It was getting worse. Still, he knew Chet wouldn't want him to cross the floor to the door, to knock and ask if everything was okay. So he sat. And he waited, phone tight in his grip in case he got a text asking him to come. The text didn't come. It never did anymore, like he was no longer needed. But even with Chet's need to pretend he was unbothered, Kovit still didn't relax, didn't unwrap his hand from around his phone, until the light clicked back off over an hour later.

There hadn't been any nose from the bedroom, no shifting of covers of shuffling of feet. No closing bathroom doors or flushes. It hurt Kovit to think about Chet sitting there with the side table lamp on ,ees open, staring at nothing while his mind replayed his nightmares over and over. He wished he knew what he'd done to lose the other boy's trust when it came to dealing with the terror, the anxiety, the insomnia. The dark parts of Chet's mind had always been strong and terrifying, but together, they were stronger. KOvit wasn't sure how much longer his friend and boss could handle it on his own.

**

The next morning, Chet acted like nothing was wrong, despite the entirely-too-visible dark circles below his eyes and the red around his irises. If he;d spent the night crying, Kovit hadn't heard him.

"Good morning," he offered as Chet walked past him, slouching slightly under the weight of his problems.

Chet only "hmmed" in response, not meeting Kovit's eyes as he took his spot at the table. He glanced at the head seat, where his father would normally sit, but it was empty.

"The master took his meal early," Kovit supplied, thought Chet hadn't asked. "He will be in meetings for most of the day."

Chet sighed, burying his face in his hands as a maid came in with his breakfast. She set it up silently in front of him, giving a small bow before leaving the room. Kovit held his breath, waiting for Chet to move, to speak. Finally, he let out a little huff of air, not a full sigh, but a noise of discontent nonetheless. He raised his head, glancing at Kovit before nodding to the seat across from him.

Kovit tried not to rush over, controlling his steps to not seem too eager. He settled into the chair, prepared to set aside the plate and utensils in front of him, but stopped as a spoonful of rice was dumped onto the plate. He looked up and round Chet preparing a second spoonful for him.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Chet met his gaze, finally, and spooned some fresh fruit onto his plate. "Have you eaten?"

"I..." He hadn't. He'd spent so much of his night worried about Chet that he'd woken late and had to hurry to make it to his boss's meal on time. Being the head bodyguard for both his master and his master's son didn't leave much time for Kovit to think about his own needs.

"I didn't think so." Chet nodded to Kovit's plate, where half of his breakfast now resided. The boy was well provided for, as the young master of the house, but Kovit's stomach still twisted uncomfortably at the idea of eating half of his meal.

As if reading his thoughts, Chet nudged his leg under the table with a slippered foot. "Just eat. They always give me too much food, and I'm not hungry anyway." The opening hung in the silence. This was Kovit's chance to ask about the night before. Chet watched him, and for the first time in a long time, Kovit couldn't read the emotions he found there.

The moment passed, and Kovit cleared his throat, picking up his spoon. "Thank you, young master," he said with a slight bow.

They ate their meal in silence.