Finding Quinn

02

02

I DON'T KNOW exactly how I expected our reunion to be. Maybe I'd walk up to him and with all my strength, bring my hand back to slap him across the cheek, or yell at him and cry and tell him about all that he took from me, or interrogate him to finally get a feel of where Quinn was. But I do know that when Microft Eleanor showed up on my doorstep, none of the happened.

We stood there staring at each other waiting for something to happen. Microft was not the same as he was when he left. Not at all. He went from wearing the most expensive designer clothes he could find to wearing baggy jeans and a ripped and bloodied wife beater. He had a stretched gray hoody with the white drawstring out of place. His face was not only covered in stubble, but in dried blood and his right eye was strangely colored and to top it off, his lip was busted.

"What happened to you?" I asked not bothering to move from my spot. "Where is Quinn?" Microft gave a strangled groan and cleared his throat before answering. "I don't know. She ditched me right after we left." She ditched him? So they haven't been together at all during the months after graduation? Could he be lying?

I chewed my lip and looked him over. Right now he's in no condition to be interrogated. But after he gets cleaned up, he would tell me all that he knew. Whether he liked it or not.

"Kyaa?! Who's at the door?!" Dad called out from his position on the couch. I knew if he found out Microft was here, especially in the condition he's in he'd arrest him before I could even blink. That can't happen. "No one dad. They had the wrong house." I lied and shot Microft a look that told him not to say anything.

"Meet me in the back yard. Don't go anywhere." I whispered to him and closed the door. I know that if Dad ever found out about me doing this investigation on my own he'd kill me. That's why he can't know. And why I can't let him find out Microft is back. At least not yet.

I made my way back up stairs and made sure not to make enough noise to disturb Dad even more. The last thing I needed was him following me upstairs. I went into the closet and grabbed the first aid kit. I grabbed a bottle of water off the top shelf and a  black washcloth (knowing a white one would just become discolored from his blood and grim) and grabbed a random shirt from Dad's closet I knew he wouldn't miss.

I looked out my back window and he was no where to be seen. He's not dumb enough to leave. He's out there somewhere. I crept my way behind the family room (where Dad laid out snoring over the dialogue of the old timely fashioned black and white cowboy movie), and did my best to close, open and close the backdoor as quietly as possible.

♔ • ♔ • ♔

He hadn't left. Very far anyway. After about fifteen minutes of walking through the trees surrounding our house, my bare feet finally lead me through the grass to the clearing that connected our small sanctuary and the outside world that I still called unknown. And that's where I found him. Back pressed against a large tree, with a hand clutching his eye.

"You look like shit." I curtly stated, still in my position a few feet away. He scoffed, but didn't say anything. I took that as my opportunity to walk over to him. Each step I made causing leaves to crunch and twigs to snap between my toes. When I finally made it over to him, at first I didn't sit. Mentally preparing my self for contact.

Microft to me, was like a poison. One touch, one second of interaction created a horrible reaction that spread throughout your whole being. I slowly sunk to my knees at his side, each knee falling with a soft thud and the cool of the earth sunk into my bones creating a cool radiance. Around me. Like a cold hug, or my father's kiss.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," I started and placed my hand over the one he had placed over his eye. "And I definitely never thought I'd be taking care of you like this." I removed his hand and tilted his head back so that the sun light would directly hit it. He closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.