Devoid [Bruno Mars]

Chapter seven

Chapter seven

Bruno had gone silent.

I turned my head to look at him and had to draw slightly away just to see his face, he was so close. His head was pressed against the cement wall, and he was staring blankly ahead of him. Some of the stores had closed, leaving us in mostly shadow on the ground. “Bruno?” I whispered.

He turned his head lazily to me. 

“Do you think we should go back inside?”

He shook his head, a barely noticeable movement. He looked exhausted, tiredness in his eyes like a dim flame. Then, still silent, he leaned his head against my shoulder. “You aren't real,” he whispered.

I couldn't help but smile, faintly. “How many drinks have you had?”

“Too many, because—” He brought his head closer, his curls brushing against the skin of my neck. They were soft and tickled. “You're still in Texas and don't remember me.” I didn't say anything, not knowing how without making it so long. “I'm tired,” he said, and a light snore followed. I couldn't believe it. Asleep, in the middle of a bustling city? I looked down and was staring at an unlayered man of utter silent beauty, in all his peacefullness. I found myself bringing my finger to his forehead, tracing along the temples to his jawline that was clean and shaven. His breathing was slow. The gold of his crucifix glinted and I ran my fingers over the cross that was warmed from laying against the warmth of his skin, imagining what it would feel like to run my hands up his chest. . .

I shook my head, pushing the thought away.

I suddenly drew in a shaky breath, but that did not stop it. I did something I hadn't done in months. I cried. Just two silent tears spilled from my eyes. It was overwhelming, him being here. I achingly missed him, but we couldn't even return to the way we were before. God, it hurt, but I was grateful I got to see him again. I tilted my head so that my cheek was lying against his puff. His hair smelled of men's shampoo.

A sudden vibration made me jump. I checked my tiny purse for my phone, hoping it was Brooklyn but that was not where the buzzing was coming from. A small, rectangular light was flashing from Bruno's pants. I dug two fingers in his front pocket to retrieve it. The small screen of the Blackberry read Phil. Phil, the guy in the club. . . I answered it. “Hello?”

“Br—who's this?” I didn't even get to answer before he started talking again. “Listen, if you're the girl who Bruno left with, I'm his best friend. I look out for him. He has a girlfriend, and it would really help if he made no regrets tonight.”

I managed to keep my voice leveled despite the mention of Bruno's girlfriend. I even smiled, so he could hear it. “Hey Phil. My name's Adrian. I'm a friend of Bruno's, we met awhile back, and the funny thing is he's asleep. Not in my bed, but on my shoulder. I could really use some assistance.”

“What?” He sounded caught off guard. “Wha—where are you guys?”

“Just outside the club, about ten feet away.”

“Oh. . .” he said. “I'll uh—I'll see you in two minutes.”

It was less than two minutes. Phil was soon nearing with another guy who was heavy-set with a tan complexion that was a few shades lighter than Bruno's. He too was bald and did not smile as he appeared. Phil crouched to my level, holding out his hand. “Adrian, right?”

I nodded, taking it. His grip was firm and kind. “I'm sorry if I came out a bit rude earlier,” he apologized. “I've just been tending to this little guy. . .” His gaze went to Bruno and he shook his head at him. “Thank you, for not—for not—”