Romeo and Romeo

Chapter 10

Ludwig sat at the writing desk, about to pour his thoughts onto the typewriter in front of him.

WHY?

Why did I have to come here? I should have went back home to see my brother. But I was just selfish enough to go with that Italian here to this house. I could not deny him, I could not bring myself to say no to those perfect, joyful eyes. I couldn't even tell him what my letter said. I couldn't ruin his beautiful innocence.

I am weak around him, I don't know what to say, how to act, but I'm not scared. I'm happy in his presence. It hurts me every time I yell or scold or even talk strictly to him. But I don't want people to get suspicious so I must be mean when other people are around. Not for my health, but for his.

I couldn't sleep. I heard him leave, so I followed him. I watched him for fourth five minutes humming and dancing to the radio while he cooks. I shouldn't, but I must. It is an urge stronger than a want. Every time I am near him I want to scoop him up into my arms and run off to a world where there is no violence and take care of him. I wanted to dance with him even though I have never danced. I wanted to sing with him although I have never sung.

He heard me. I hope that he didn't know I was watching him. After he had finished his meal, he looked up at me with his sleepy yet bright eyes and a messy face and talked for what seemed like hours, although I knew it was only minutes. But I could listen to his sweet voice for days. He fell more and more sleepy until he eventually said a few words before he drifted off into his clean plate.

"Mmm Ludwig... Your eyes... Are so pretty..."

Even if he wasn't aware of what he was saying, or even if he didn't mean it, I took it to heart and I could feel butterflies in my stomach. I sat there for a while, remembering again and again those words. I then decided I should take him back upstairs. So I picked him up, very carefully, and took him up the stairs.

That was stupid.

What if someone saw us, they would call the police. They would... Hurt... Him.

Recently, I have not been well. Not physically, but mentally. It does cause some physical symptoms however, like the deep scars on my wrists that will stay with me for the rest of my life  and the new ones that keep appearing. Or the frozen feeling in my legs whenever I think of going outside when I don't have to. It has always been with me, my depression. But it has never been this bad. And it was all because of that letter from my brother.