Look Me in the Eyes (and tell me that it's me) [Zhongchili]

Chapter 15 - Perfectly Fine

Zhongli is definitely an adeptus. There are no ifs or buts about it any more.

Ajax lies on his mattress, staring at the ceiling, while Teucer sits on his bed opposite, working on a page of sums his teacher sent him home with. The soft scratch of the pencil accompanies Ajax's racing thoughts as he attempts to make sense of it all.

He ended up sleeping over at Zhongli's place, in the hope that falling asleep beside Zhongli might prompt another dream. However, his dreams have proven themselves elusive lately, providing him only with flashes of battles fought on planes where the ground ripples like water, and where the sky cracks away to reveal the barren, hungering cosmos, waiting to devour him whole.

Unfortunately, none of that helps him with the Zhongli situation.

His phone buzzes with a message notification. It's probably Zhongli telling him he left a sock behind or something.

He rolls over to grab it.

It's Yoimiya. Yoimiya who hasn't spoken to him since last week at the bar. Or maybe it's he who hasn't spoken to her. He's not sure. It's awkward.

Yoimiya: Hey!! Do you want to catch up? I'm heading onto campus to study for a bit—you should totally join me!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Well, she's over last week, at least.

Ajax: sure. ill get going now

After checking that Teucer is thoroughly occupied with his maths work, Ajax slips a hand under the mattress and grabs the knife. He tucks it under his waistband close to his Vision, yanking his belt a couple of notches tighter to make sure it stays there. He's still working out the best way to carry it, but belt seems more convenient than boot for now.

He pulls his shirt down over it and calls over to Teucer. "Alright, I'm heading out to study with Yoimiya now. Are you going to get that done without me here watching over you?"

Teucer looks up, pencil in hand, and nods. "Of course I will! I'm going to be the best at doing numbers, just like you!"

"That's what we like to hear!"

After gathering his things, Ajax heads into the hallway, shutting the bedroom door behind him. At the click of the latch, Mother pokes her head out of the kitchen.

"Ajax!" she calls out to him. "Sorry, I see you're going out, but could you give me a hand quickly? Honestly, my brain is more full of holes than the sieve these days."

"Sure." Ajax follows her into the kitchen where Father also sits, newspaper propped on the table in front of him and a steaming cup of deep brown tea by his hand. They nod each other a greeting then Ajax returns his attention to Mother. Currently, she's in the midst of opening and closing every drawer in the kitchen, peering into them as though she's trying to perform some bizarre magic act and expects a flock of doves to come fluttering out. "So, what was it you needed help with?"

"I can't seem to find one of my knives. From the nice set that my parents bought for Father and I. You know the one."

Ajax's breath catches.

He does know the one. It's the one pressed against his hip. The one he took. The one he stole.

Not stole. Borrowed. For valid reasons.

A sticky layer of sweat forms on his palms as his forearm brushes the handle beneath his shirt. He can't tell her. She's always tried to discourage this sort of thing, particularly after moving to their current neighbourhood. She doesn't want her boys to end up "like that".

Does she know? Does Father know?

"Really?" Ajax pretends to look thoughtful. "Can't say I've seen it recently. Want me to help you look for it?"