By the time I found myself back on the porch to our house, several hours had passed and I was exhausted. Opening the door, I crept inside and closed the door silently behind me. Eyes flickering across the living room, my eyes came to rest upon the sleeping figure of Aoba on the couch. I smiled softly, all trace of anger gone as I gently lifted his head, sat down, and put his head on my lap. My emotions had taken over, and I ever so gently caressed his hair, brushing some stray cobalt strands from his face. I ran my knuckles down his smooth cheeks, tracing every feature very lightly with my fingertips. He shifted. I jumped back to the edge of the couch, panic filling me, and I pulled my casual demeanor over my emotions, leaning lazily back and examining my fingers. He slowly blinked and sat up, then, seeing that I was there, tackled me. My eyes widened in surprise as my back hit the couch, Aoba's hands on either side of my head.
"Where the hell WERE YOU?!"
I blinked, then smirked.
"Wouldn't you like to know."
"Yes I would! Because I was worried SICK about you! You could have DIED!"
I was taken aback by not only his words, but also the sincerity his face held. His eyes were red and brimming with tears, his bottom lip trembled, and what hit me hardest were the cracks in his voice as he tried not to cry. I silently wished he wouldn't notice my clothes, but no such luck. His eyes widened and he gasped, covering his mouth.
"Y-you're covered in.... in.... b-b-blood...."
I nodded, avoiding his eyes. But I looked back up when something splashed onto my cheek. I was slightly shocked to see that he was crying. Biting my lip, I gently pushed him off, then stood. I spoke softly as I walked upstairs.
"It's not mine."
Turning off the shower, I let my forehead fall gently on the wall, earning a dull thunk. I had finally seen the water run clear after about 45 minutes of vigorous scrubbing. I stepped out and stared at my appearance in the mirror. My skin was slightly pink due to the heat and the furious washing. My ebony hair was sleeked back, the shaved sides of my head no less black. I looked at my left eye, the pitch black orb, and the long jagged scar that stretched from my left temple, across the bridge of my nose, then to the bottom right part of my jaw. I stared at the long scars that created stripes along my midsection, and the smaller scars between them. I let my eyes slide over my arms, wincing to myself as I see the even lines that cover my forearms. I have the same reaction as I look at my thighs, seeing the same sight. White lines among dark ones. I look at my shins and feet, relieved that some part of me is untouched by these cursed lines. I look back up and stare into my eyes, filled with disgust at my scars. I stood glaring for a while longer before there was a knock on the door.
"Cy, are you okay?"
I nodded, then remembered he couldn't see me.
"Yeah. I'm good. I'll be out in a minute. Go to bed and get some rest. REAL rest."
I added, before he could point out that he took a nap on the couch. I heard him sigh.
"Okay."
I listened as he trudged off to a room and closed the door. Sighing myself, I pulled on my clothes and slipped into my dark room. Lost in my thoughts, I didn't realize there was someone else there till I laid down, and a pair of slender arms wrapped around my stomach. I tensed in alarm, ready to fight, but I recognized the smell. Aoba. I felt him bury his face against my back. Rolling my eyes with a small smile, I turned around and pulled him closer. He didn't let go of me, he just hugged tighter as he pressed his face against my chest. I let my chin rest on top of his hair, careful not to pull it. When all movement stopped, the silence pressed in. But it wasn't awkward, anything but. It was more of a comfortable silence, just knowing that someone that cared for you was in between your arms. Within minutes, we were both asleep.
