A Man's Bestfriend ⇢ malum [✓]

Chapter 7

(written in point-of-views)

≪ Michael's POV ≫

"He what?!" Ashton exclaimed, shocked.

"Mali, I'll finish cleaning," I insisted as I passed the bag of broken glass pieces to her.

I turned to look at Ashton whose face had not budged one bit. Reluctantly, I smiled as an attempt of reassurance but knowing Ashton, nothing can get past him. He grabbed hold of my wrist.

"Michael, you better tell me."

I refused to look at him in the eye, afraid that I might not be able to bring myself to utter even just a word. Ashton loosened his grip probably because of how anxious I was to admit it to him. Finally, after a deep breath, I explained.

"...then Mali remembered hearing the gas stove being lit for a while, which shortly after that, Luke came out with a cup of coffee on a plate and a breadknife," I spoke slowly.

"Then, what did you mean that he was going to do something stupid?"

"Don't you get it, Ash?"

Ashton still looked confused, if not, more confused than ever.

"It doesn't add up! Do YOU make coffee on a gas stove using a breadknife? I don't think so. True enough, the coffee wasn't even made properly because Luke only drinks milk coffee and this right here that you see splattered all over the floor–,"

"It's black coffee," Ashton whispered, "Then the knife? The gas stove?"

"I called his name while he was heading to the balcony but he didn't hear me. I thought, well, must have been daydreaming," Mali added as she came out of the kitchen, "So, I reached for his shirt and I swear, I only tugged a little–,"

"Then he snapped out of it and dropped everything and the breadknife..," I paused, feeling reluctant to let Ashton know of this, "...it burnt his skin."

Ashton seemed taken aback by the incident. Oddly, he maintained the silence in the room as we finished wiping the spilt coffee clean from the floor. Mali had the last mop and all evidence of the event has been cleared.

"Ashton," I said, with my voice softened as I saw Ashton headed for the stairs to our room.

"I know what you're going to say," he replied, "Don't worry, I won't — at least not for now."

I followed behind him quietly to our room and I saw Luke, with his bags packed and ready at the feet of his bed, but he was dozed off soundly. Ashton watched over sleeping Luke like a fatherly figure — as if he loved Luke like his own. I saw a tiny drop of tear falling from the bag of his left eye. I rested my hand on his shoulder and gave him a light pat on the back.

"In time, he'll be okay," I told him, "We all will."