Regiphobia

The Husk

The next day, Juan left a new note, assuming Goda hadn't been down to read it. It was still there after all. He walked upstairs with a smile, cheered up a lot since he saw Goda was OK. He jogged up to the storage room, smiling to himself. He walked into one of them, hanging out while he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited and waited and waited.

As the time came and went and kept on going, he lost hope. He frowned, leaving the room and heading back downstairs. He walked into the mailroom. The note was gone. He looked around the bit and...

There it was, in the trash beside the mailboxes. Tears burned behind his eyes, but he refused to let them spill. He went upstairs and towards his room. He looked around to make sure José wasn't there before breaking down completely. He cried to no one, hurting more than he could express.

Several hours later, Goda was sitting silently in Gabe's office, staring at the floor. Gabe looked over at him, "Any new notes?"

He nodded.

"And?"

"Trash..."

Gabe smiled, walking over and kissing his temple, "Such a good boy for me. Learned your lesson, didn't you?"

Goda nodded, looking up at him with slightly empty eyes. Gabe leaned down, kissing his lips this time. He lightly pressed Goda against the chair, staying against him for a while.

Gabe pulled back, then sat down and got back to work. He was entirely focused on his computer.

"....May I go g-get something to eat?" Goda mumbled, looking over at his fiancé. After getting a nod from the other, he shakily stood up and left the room, all remaining emotion draining from his eyes. He shambled down to the first floor and to the kitchen, where one of the cooks, noticing Goda's state, made him something warm and filling and sent him on his way.

On the way back to his room, where he was nibbling away at his food, Juan spotted him. Juan had forced his tears away even as the waves pulled at his calves and came out for work, back to his cheery, friendly self. He spotted Goda and immediately walked towards him. He didn't care about the cameras or the people around them anymore. "Goda!" he waved.

Goda tensed up, the memory of the darkness and the hunger clawing at his mind. He glanced over to Juan, eyes still very empty. He was completely silent.

"Uh... Goda...?" he said, slowing down as he got closer, "Are you alright?"

Goda looked around, then at the security cameras. Then, he walked off, a little faster now. Juan followed him, "Goda, wait, where are you going- where have you been for the last week? Goda?"

He didn't say anything until Juan grabbed his arm. He dropped his food, stumbling a little bit. Juan led him out of the room, into a hall closet. It was a tight fit, and it was dark, but after a few minutes, their eyes adjusted.

"Juan... what...," he mumbled, looking up at him with dead eyes.

"Goda, something's wrong, what is it?" he asked, his hand still on his arm.

"No... p-please let go..." he mumbled, lowering his head and trying to pull his arm away and failing miserably. Juan's hand didn't even move.

"Goda-"

"Please, I d-don't... I should go... I don't think he'd be happy if..."

"Please, tell me what's going on," he begged, "You were missing for a week and then you come back and-"

Juan would have continued, had he not seen a tear fall from Goda's cheek and hit the floor. His eyes widened slightly as he pulled Goda into a gentle hug. Goda didn't resist, wrapping his arms around the taller and crying into his uniform. He broke down, silence turning to sniffles turning to sobs. He closed his eyes, needing the comfort Juan gave him. He wasn't alone anymore. He had someone. He had to remember that. The thought of Juan had kept him sane in that room and the feeling of Juan's arms was keeping him safe now.

"I-I-I'm- I'm s-sor-rry-" he stuttered between sobs, trembling with each one.

"No, it's OK, I'm sorry for pushing you- Are you OK? What happened?" he said, cupping his cheek with one hand.

Goda was silent, leaning his head into the touch. "Please don't b-be mad at me..."

Juan frowned, "You... can't tell me, can you?"

Goda shook his head, his heart aching. He wanted to so badly, but he'd already be in trouble for letting Juan take him here, so he didn't have a choice. Tears kept rolling down his cheeks, his stomach twisting into painful knots and his head throbbing. Despite how much it hurt Juan to know there was more he couldn't learn, he hugged the smaller male even tighter. They were both silent now, aside from the soft noises of Goda sobbing filling the closet. Juan ran a hand through his red hair.

After a while, he spoke up, "I'm not mad. I could never stay mad at you, Goda."

Goda wiped at his eyes, taking in a deep breath to try and stop the tears, "Th-Th-Thank you..."

Juan gave a sad smile, nodding and holding Goda against his chest. After a bit more time, he asked, "Should we leave...?"

Goda nodded, looking up at the other. His eyes had lost that dead look to them, like all he was waiting for had been Juan. "G-Gabe's waiting for me to get back..." he mumbled.

"Then... I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked.

"Maybe," he said, "I don't know."

"That's the best I could ask for," Juan said softly, kissing his cheek before opening the door and letting him leave.

Goda walked out, looking at the food he'd dropped on the floor. He sighed, leaned down to pick it up, and walked back towards the kitchen. He explained that he'd 'tripped' and dropped it, the chef assured him it was alright, and he walked back towards Gabe's office with a new tray of food. He walked inside.

"That took a while," Gabe said as the door shut, raising his eyebrow.

"I-I dropped it... sorry..." Goda looked down.

"It's alright doll, come have a seat."

Goda nodded, walking back to his seat and starting to nibble at his meal. Eating quickly would upset his stomach after being starved for so long, he knew that well.

Juan walked back to his room. His mind was centered around one phrase.

"I don't think he'd be happy if..."

Time was running out. He knew that well. In three days, Goda would be a married man, and Juan didn't know how they'd get out after that, if Goda ever wanted to.

The clock ticked down.