Human Connect To Human

{Concert 2} Chapter 15: A Weekend of Discoveries

Concert 2

Chapter 15: A Weekend of Discoveries

Arriving at Mikah’s home, after being let in by a very friendly Otto who gave him a concerned smile as he took on his bloodied state, Bill made his way to her apartment. He takes his time looking around the building, his mind trying to connect the luxury things he saw – the potted plants every five feet, the gold encrusted mirrors, the Oakwood polished tables, the soft red carpet and small chandeliers - with Mikah. Moreover, it did not add up, or at least not with the Mikah, he had in mind. It was weird, his mind having its own picture and thoughts about her that what she was like.

Bill smiles at his thinking as he reaches her apartment. Before he can even raise his hand to knock, the door swings open and Mikah, her face contorted in shock, gasps as she looks at him. He opens his mouth to say something but he’s stopped as she pulls him into her home, closes the door behind them and, taking his hand in hers, leads him to the bathroom where he is promptly sat down on the toilet seat. He smiles at her, his bleeding lip not even a concern at the moment, and looks at her as she scrambles in the sink cabinet to find what she needs.

When she closes the small door, she tries to dab him with an alcohol pad but he stops her by taking hold of her wrist.

“I’m fine,” he tells her softly, his eyes trailing up her wrist and arm and into her beautiful concerned face. “I swear I’m fine. This doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“You’re still bleeding,” she points out with a pout and as he reaches out to touch his face to find out if he really is bleeding, she takes her arms back and returns to her previous machinations. “I don’t care what you say, Ima fix you up.”

He sits there, hands in his lap, fist turning white when ever the alcohol stings and looks at her. She really was beautiful, weird that he had not really noticed that before. She had nice, attractive features that, if she were famous, would compare to those of his favourite old actress, Audrey Hepburn. Every dab she made against his skin would bring a bit of her scent to his nose, he breathed in heavily loving the smell of her skin.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Mikah asks softly. “Or am I gonna have to guess?”

“Tom punched me,” he says equally as softly. “I- I don’t want to talk about it, really. I’m fine now.”

“If you ever do,” Mikah says putting the things away. “I’m always available.” He sees her wince at herself but ignores it for her sake. Telling a guy that she is always available is not a good move but Bill smiles knowing what she meant.

“Thanks,” he says back, getting up from the uncomfortable seat on the toilet. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“Nah,” she replies. “I was about to make some coffee, want some.”

He nods with a smile and rubs at his arm as they walk. He sees her look at his arm but does not question him. The cuts itch and add to that his nervous habit to scratch at cuts; it leaves him with a dull pain that he somehow has come to depend on. They walk to the kitchen slowly. Bill takes in slow breathes as he follows Mikah around the counter and to a seat. He looks out the large window to have something to do while she makes the coffee. He knows she has questions but he does not want to answer them, not now at least. His past was his past, no matter how much it seems to haunt him. This was the present and, hopefully, Mikah was his future.

However, the look in her eyes said that they intended on finding out what was wrong. What is he supposed to say? That Tom punched him because... they had a fight. Then she would ask what the fight was about and it would all end up back to the same thing. His past was not something he liked to discuss, not without ending up alone.

Mikah returns with two mugs of what looks more like chocolate than coffee. With a smile, Bill cradles the mug between his thing, shaky hands and sighs. If Mikah was his future then should she not know about his past? If his past scared her then perhaps she was not the one. He looks at her, his breathing shallow, on the verge of tears and breathes out slowly. He chews on his lower lip, shakes his head and decides to take the chance.

“I saw a lady die once,” he says softly. “I saw the life drain out of her, the blood seeping out of her body and her warm hand falling to the ground. I think that’s when everything started going downhill.”

He looks at Mikah expecting her to say something - question him, anything -but she remains quiet. She reaches out towards him but stops. For a moment, Bill holds his breathe, expecting her to say something like, I’m tired, you need to leave. However, she reaches out, takes his mug and her own and stands. With her head, she motions him to follow her. Dumbfounded, he stands and follows her back to her room and through another door.

“This is my dad’s Buddha room,” she explains setting down the cups in a small, round table in the centre of the room. The room itself is empty except for the table, cushions on the floor and thin matrasses. Bill blinks, as he takes in the room, confused.

“When my mum left,” Mikah continued, “my dad had their bedroom remade into this. He said it needed to be ‘cleaned’ from her dark energies and drug addict ways. He comes here when he is having a bad day and meditates. He says it helps him relax – having nothing around him to distract him.”

Bill nods.

“Commandeer a cushion and sit down with me,” she says softly. “Talk to me.”

He does. He pulls up a cushion and taking a sip from his mug, tells her everything that had been bottled up in his chest. It was not like the last time they had spoken – no; this time he was an open book.

“My dad left when we were young, he couldn’t deal with me going to therapy. He said I was messed up and he wasn’t going to be blamed for something like me. Mum, she dealt with me by ignoring I had problems, while Tom, he softened the world around me. He protected me but eventually he saw me as weak and useless so he began to hate me for not ‘appreciating’ what he did for me.

We started this bad for many reasons but mainly because I wanted to know that I wasn’t alone. I wanted to feel like someone out there felt what I felt, knew what I was going through, what I was. I wanted a place to belong.”

They talked until Mikah’s father came home and even then, having been invited to diner, they talked some more. Mikah listened to him, his every word, without judgement. Her eyes never showed a gleam of disgust just understanding and warmth. At the end of the night he did what he’d been aching to do. He leaned into her, his hands on either side of her face, kissed her,  and, because it felt like the right thing to do,  promptly ran away.

Next Chapter will be in Mikah's POV cuz, DUDE, Bill kissed her! I'd be freaking out and jumping up and down in joy. I wouldn't shower forever! *thinks about this* well... i would shower. XD