The Silence Of Metawin.

狩

Win dreams that he is surrounded by hummingbirds.

He's standing on a college campus, a warm-colored stone building in the background and it's summertime. Everywhere college kids are dotted about, making out, splayed on their bellies in the sun, free, but around him the air is thick with birds. He can feel the breeze created by their wings, their tiny needle-like beaks as they scrape against him, touch his throat, his ears, his hair. One comes close to his eye and he feels its tiny sharp tongue, like a watch spring, as it reaches for the moisture in his eye, the corners of his mouth. Their wings are beautiful, iridescent greens, blues and pinks, but they repulse him. The tiny tongue dips again, forcing its way into his mouth, and he jerks backwards, horrified as the rest of them descend on him in a suffocating whirling cloud.

He jerks awake and the piercing sunlight through the hotel curtains is like an assault on his senses. His mouth feels dry and furry and, rolling onto his side, he's startled to find Bright lying alongside him. Although he's undressed, it doesn't look like he's slept at all.

"Hey," Win frowns, he glances at his wrist but his watch is missing. "Did I oversleep?"

Bright gives his head a small shake.

"Is it after 8?"

"It's 8.30."

He rubs a soft hand over his face.

"Is there coffee?"

"There's fresh Green Tea."

"Can you order some coffee?"

"I've ordered breakfast."

"I don't want breakfast. I want coffee."

There's a pause.

"You're still angry with me."

Win looks at him. Bright's eyes are bright with curiosity and something else, maybe anticipation? Sighing, Win closes his eyes again, rolls back onto his back, rubs at his aching temples.

"I'm just…I'm tired. Order me some coffee and maybe I'll work up the energy to be angry with you."

Sliding out of bed, Bright goes to the telephone. Somehow between yesterday evening and this morning he's managed to acquire a pair of silk pajama pants. He orders coffee with one of the few phrases Win knows well, and quietly hangs up the phone. There's silence for a while and Win opens his eyes again. Bright is studying his fingernails.

"You didn't ask me where I went."

"Shopping I assume."

He knows that Bright loathes sarcasm, so the tiny irritable movement of his jaw gives Win at least a corner of satisfaction. It doesn't last nearly long though.

"Where you went last night, or last week? I think I have a pretty clear idea about the second one, although maybe it's more complicated than it seems." Win frowns, "You caught a train into the city, presumably with prior knowledge that a fascinatingly twisted serial killer was in the middle of some kind of spree. Then you figured out exactly whose eager little ear on the investigating team you needed to whisper my name and location into for maximum effect. Then I'm guessing you spent a couple more days sightseeing - maybe snapped an impolite neck or two for kicks - before you caught a train home and crawled into my bed in the middle of the night, no doubt hoping for an enthusiastic welcome home fuck."

Bright's face looks dangerously like that of a cat that's been splashed with water, but Win can't bring himself to stop. Sitting up on the side of the bed, he reaches over to the nightstand for his watch.