A Bloody Smile In The Dark

Frame me up on your wall just to keep me out of trouble

I knock on his door unable to anticipate what's about to happen, after I unsuccessfully tried to picture a few possible outcomes for the night on my way here. Usually I rehearse what to say, how to move and any plausible conversation, but tonight my mind is absolutely blank and, for the first time, excitement outweighs concern.

"Hey! Right on time! Come on in!"

It's nice to see him in casual clothes and messy hair in his natural habitat, although I was expecting it to be a bit different. This one doesn't look like a bachelor pad at all; way too neat and tidy.

"Is it lavender?"

"Woah good catch. My favorite, hope it's not too strong"

"Oh no. It's quite pleasant actually"

The floor's so clean you can mirror yourself in it, with not a single item out of place. Maybe the lights are a tad too excessive given the white walls; It's like walking into Bruce Almighty's heaven. It knocks you out. Literally.

"Oh lord no! No no no no Dru! Down boy! You'll hurt her!"

His slim yet bulky companion couldn't welcome me in a better way. Like a mean right hook, I'm now on the ground with him on top of me, overwhelmed by licks and paw blows.

"This is awesome"

"Guess it's safe to say he likes you"

"Well. I like him too"

"He's an old sport; his hearing doesn't work very well anymore. A year ago he would've jumped you as soon as you rang"

As he takes my hand to help me up, I feel a brief electric wave hit me, probably due to my shortage of body heat meeting his overflowing one. I have to look back at the gorgeous Dachshund sat straight staring back at me to calm my nerves.

"Dru. Pleased to meet you, handsome"

Cutting me to the bone, nothing left to leave behind

Pasta, ribs and mashed potatoes with sauces to sell. I think I'm gonna explode. And he kept looking at me the whole time; can you say nerve wrecking? I'm an extremely self conscious person in general. Always concerned with everyone's opinion about me, from the way I walk down the street to how I do my job. Stranger eyes cutting through my embers, studying my every fiber. Picking their favorite flaw of mine, entertaining themselves with my inadequacy. It's like living a nightmare directed by your own brain. Nothing more monstrous.

More specifically, I believe eating is the most beautiful intimate act to share with someone, right after physical connection. It's like getting naked without taking your clothes off. It isn't mere swallowing food; it's savoring explosions of taste making love not only to your mouth, but your entire body too. It's losing yourself to a transcendental experience that aims to work at your benefit. I understand it might be a little too poetic for some and that's why I can never fully enjoy eating in company. That, and the fact I need my time.

"Are you okay? You seem somewhere else"

"Oh in a sense I am. I'm really just taking this all in. You surprised me, man"

"Why? Don't i give the impression of being a domestic guy?"

"Not at all, no. Which makes the discovery even nicer. It's all delicious, seriously. Thank you so much"

"Thank you for coming over"

Everything that kills me makes me feel alive

We spent the night small talking, watching sappy movies and playing with Dru like good old friends reconnecting after a long time. Now, as I try to conceal the damages of my latest culinary rejection, I'm officially overdone by how sick and tired I am of running. I've been escaping from anything good to me ever since I learned to walk; I wouldn't mind taking a breather. I exit the bathroom to find him cleaning the kitchen table for what is possibly the hundredth time, with a cute smile plastered on his scruffy face that could cure all evils.

I grab his arm catching myself by surprise, feeling his protruding scars with my fingers.

"I think it's good, Ry. It's alright"

He doesn't need words to let his emotions out. Those hazel eyes speak volumes.

"I..it's just..i can't help it.."

"You realize you just let me use your toilet? I mean.."

"Yeah I do..it's alright no?"

Something tells me this isn't just about germs.

His gentle lips struck me before I could muster an answer and if time wasn't working normally already, it stopped all together in a flash.

They left us alone, the kids in the dark

Turns out unplanned events are greater than commonly taught. Loosing the reins tied to your wrists until they're completely off is a terrifying act, but I don't recall anything so scary to ever feel this good. They call it going with the flow and, perhaps due to my penchant for turmoil, I surf better with problematic waves.

Routine settled in pretty quickly thanks to stressful work demands increasingly grueling by the day. I improved a lot in medical examining and began frequenting crime scenes more and more often. Hiding our puppy chemistry from the team isn't exactly easy but we know how to keep things separate or, as Hémile put it, not let our interactions interfere with the job. Letting go of control also meant not questioning how I basically have no more me-time anymore, as I stopped existing single-hand since that night of morphing our miseries into one; with shift duty hours being the only exception. We check out, collect our stuff, go to The Pot when we're like it, and crash at each other's place every other night. More at his actually, seen mine is too much of a post apocalyptic chaos according to him. Some nights I wake up to the sound of this adorable man cursing at the ghost in the mirror because he's stepped on one of the dog's toys on his way to the bathroom and can't stop swearing. He always apologizes in the morning and I have to be careful rocking him back and forth in constant rhythmic strokes, on the kitchen floor, to quiet his voices.

About two months ago i awoke next a cold spot beside me. I found him shirtless on my living room's couch, holding his head mumbling to himself, dealing with his regular nightmares. It was 3 a.m.

"I was selfish, Roe"

The suspect had an accomplice who knew of Ry's passionate character. He knew that if he stayed back, Ry would have chased his friend down the pier and he could shoot the girl and run. Every case ending with a death is tough to get over but when a child is involved, it only adds to the shaky hand grazing a trigger pressed to your face.

Wolfie was put on new medication to ease his nerves but only made him feel like shit all the time so he took himself off it. I told him he felt like that because they were probably working, however to no avail. Two days later we made a mad dash to the hospital as he'd accidentally cut the side of his right wrist while making dinner but couldn't leave it at that. He had to make a complete line across it and match the other one too.

No more cooking in, we promised each other.

Funny how that was only the beginning of a long list of other mutual oaths.

Every time we make love, it's the longest mind boggling exploration of the flesh. I've learnt not to take any step for granted while he unclasps my bra resting his forehead on mine; or when he hovers me never breaking eye contact. He's very methodical but never repetitive. He's not ready to abandon himself to pleasure unless he has told me how much I mean to him; once, twice, whispery thrice. He won't go off before counting all my scars tracing them one by one. He won't sink into me until he's kissed my collarbones, neck and shoulders, all the way down to my navel where he draws circles with his tongue once, twice, draggy thrice. He's organized but never oppressing. It's always me first, him seconds later, although it's preferable to release ourselves together, otherwise it's up to me to cleanse his panic away. Once, twice, foolishly thrice.

"I don't know exactly, but I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you"

This one's by far the funniest.