Kings Of Calamity

Chapter 8: My faith at first sight

Roy was asleep on the floor next to me, his soft breathing a comfort to my right. His music continued to shuffle, moving between genres and meanings I no longer knew. I had stopped keeping track of time, and now concentrated solely on my thoughts.

The people on tv.

The night with the guests.

These were the only thoughts I knew.

Roy moved into my room for the next few weeks, and made a pallet of blankets in the side of my bed. I had a bad tremor the night prior, and collapsed on the kitchen floor. Following it, I've had fever and sharp pains all over my chest.

Roy, as always was here for my recovery and any needs that may follow. I couldn't force him to leave if I could. His attentive care was steadfast, and out of the rest of the household he stayed with me the most. He would wake up, rubbing his face and checking the clock. Then he'd turn to me, turn back to face the view, and drift off again.

The room was now fading into colors of grey and blue, leaving the sky deeply contrasted. I drifted off a few times, but regained my mobility and consciousness before breakfast. Stretching my arms, I nudged Roy sheepishly. He groaned but didn't do much more. My hands were shaking with morning weakness, that feeling you get when you oversleep breakfast and your stomach twists to a numb end. I somehow got this every mealtime, despite that I hardly did enough exercise to burn through anything. My metabolism was just astonishingly good, too good for it's job.

"Roy." I croaked, nudging him one more time.

He was still asleep.

This is getting nowhere, I chided.

I leaned a bit further over my bed and knocked over my glass of water. It poured over onto Roy's face, the glass adding the icing to the cake when it smacked against his head.
He woke up in a red-eyed gasp and sat up from his nest.

"I need more water," I drawled.

"Wha-" He breathed, "What time is it?"

"A quarter till seven."

"You just wasted it! You can't wait to drink at breakfast." He bemoaned, rubbing his face his pillow.

"You're supposed to help me," I retorted, "And I don't wish to be downstairs at the moment. Matter of fact, I need you to go get breakfast for me as well."

"One minute you're downstairs, another you're not." He sighed.

"I made a mistake coming downstairs last time."

"Well, you look like you can walk to me."

"That's not a fact."

"Well tou can't stay in bed forever."

"But I can."

"No, you can't," Roy retorted, standing up and stretching his arms.

I sat up on the edge of my bed with the blanket hugged over me. I rubbed my hands through my hair, "Why are you so difficult."

"Call me difficult if you want," He stated, maneuvering through my closet, "But you look fine to me. You got to understand your life isn't solely about you. It affects us too, no matter what you do. You can't linger in this dark safe space of yours."

He pulled out a burgundy T-shirt from the hanger, and laid it on the end of my bed. I watched him solemnly; a hundred things going through my mind about last month. Once he stopped moving and took notice I wasn't moving, he crossed his arms and breathed.

"Kaur, I'm serious."

"Alright." I breathed, "You're so damn overwhelming."

"Brothers are supposed to be overwhelming," He retorted, "If you want, we can talk and get shit off your chest."