Burn the light

Chapter 11

I am so sorry for the wait and this short chapter. I will write and post Chapter 12 very soon. 

Also, I don't feel like this title is the right one for this book.
If I decide to change it, I will let you know in advance. 

☆☆☆

The branches of trees move relentlessly in the dark.

I was unable to sleep tonight. Worrying about my current situation and thinking about my parents. 

A knock, so light that I wonder if I have imagined it, echoes through the room. Might it be Hayes? Maybe he also has trouble sleeping.

Just in case I am not imagining things, I get out of bed and open the door. Never would I have guessed Alessio to knock on the door of my room in the middle of the night. Nor would I have imagined him coming looking for me at any moment of the day. 

Would he administer the last blow to my already aching heart? 

I make my way towards the bed, sit against the pillows and put the cover on top of my body. I resume watching the dark night from the window.  

Alessio stands at the doorstep. For a moment I think he is going to turn away but he finally enters the room and closes the door behind him. 

My chest constricts. I am not scared of what he would do but of what he would say. Scared that he is the beginning of a list of people who will tell me how poorly they think of me.

"I will be out of your sight in a few hours." I whisper, finally looking at him. He is already staring at me, though I am not sure his eyes have adjusted to the darkness by now. "Please, don't..."

I don't even know what to ask for. Do not insult me? Do not be mad at me? Do not contribute to the misery I am suffering from? Or please do but do it quickly because I would prefer to feel hurt at once instead of feeling like it's killing me slowly but surely?

"Why did you give me your umbrella that night?" he asks.

I am at a loss of words at first. I did not consider this being what he wanted to talk about. I thought the conversation would start in distress and finish in agony.  

I didn't think he remembered this moment. He never acknowledged it. I still remember how his grey eyes pierced through mine as he had gripped my wrist.

He gets closer to me and sits to the very edge of the bed. I can't help but compare him to Eiran or Hayes. They would have probably taken careful steps, making sure not to frighten me. Or they would have stayed close to the door and not invade my personal space when I am feeling that distressed. They would have approached me like you approach a scared stray cat. Alessio does not. He does things without thinking about how it would make people feel. 

He does not look at me, his body turned towards the door. It calms my nerves a little. 

"You seemed like you did not want to get wet." I answer his question. 

"So you were just... kind?" the word sounds foreign in his mouth, as if he could comprehend it. 

"Not really." I reply honestly, still remembering how well the interview for a job went. "I thought it would be good karma."

Was an act still considered as kind if you did it because you expected something nice to happen to you in return? Doesn't this take away from the selfless nature of what a kind gesture is supposed to be about? 

Strangely enough, we do not sit in an uncomfortable silence, both of us deep in our thoughts. 

I look at his silhouette getting up. I watch him pause near the door.

"You can stay." he says and I wonder if I have not hallucinated him saying those words but he repeats them, this time looking towards me. "You can stay until you figure things out."

I don't have time to utter a thank you before he closes the door. I stare at it for a while, wondering if this was the karma I expected when I gave him my umbrella. 

When I wake up, the room is bright enough for me to know I have slept several hours. A quick glance at the grey sky confirms that it is probably afternoon. 

I don't remember what it feels like to wake up calm. I do not wish for something as rare as happiness but peace would be welcomed. 

I have a text from Hayes. 'I hope you slept well. Text me when you are up.'

'I am up, thank you.' I reply. 

'I will be at home soon. Eiran is there, it is a good moment to talk with him.' 

Yes, I guess I can't postpone this any longer now. Or maybe I can, for just a few minutes. 

I sneak my head out of the room. When I don't see nor hear anyone, I head for the bathroom with what I need in my hands.

I take a moment to take in my appearance in the mirror. I look... unfamiliar. I can't recognise myself. It is not about the messy bun. Neither about my swollen face. My eyes are... I don't really know. They don't shine the way they used to. They look... lifeless.

I take a long shower. The hot water relaxes my tense body. 

After that, I take care of my appearance. I apply concealer under my eyes to conceal the dark areas, as well as blush to appear less sick.

And I try to be brave. One more time. 

Eiran is not in the living room nor in the kitchen area. He is maybe upstairs but I won't go looking for him as if this was my house. 

Instead, I sit on one of the stools, face the living room and think. 

Alessio has informed me that I can stay here until I find a solution to my problem. But decisions made at night are not usually thought through. He could still change his mind. And even if he does not change his mind, Hayes and Eiran also have to agree on that. 

Feeling hopeless was the worst feeling in the world. Humans are designed to hope. When everything is tumbling down in their life, they hold on to hope and keep going. When they are going through a horrible storm, they still grasp onto their last light of hope that it will calm down, that the storm will pass and that they will be safe. 

My light is flickering.

The storm has been raging for months now. I can not survive this storm, it was designed to drown me. 

I have always studied hard and tried to make the best decisions for my future. I chose my college degree based on the opportunities it would provide me. I have gained so much knowledge in a field that closes doors to me.

Maybe it was all for nothing. Maybe I should work a regular job. Any job. One that will pay enough to make ends meet.

Perhaps I could find a job that provides housing. I will not have my own place but at least I will have a place to stay in. 

When did life become this hard? 

My heartbeat skips a beat. Eiran is outside. I see him partially from the living room's window. 

One deep breath and a slow exhale. And then I open the door.