An Eye For An Eye

Dix

There was a sense of dread in my stomach when I woke up. At first, I thought it was because I hadn’t eaten anything since the tacos the day before but even after I finished eating cereal, the horrible feeling remained.

“What are you nervous about?”

Turning, I saw Deucalion. He had a worried expression on his face as he walked over.
“I’m nervous?”
“More specifically, nervous, anxious and sad but more of the first two, I think,” he said as he sat beside me. The bowl of cereal was empty. “Is it because you have to go back later?”
“Maybe.” Upon evaluating my answer, I spoke again. “Probably.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he said.
“I’m glad someone believes in me,” I said with an awkward laugh. He just smiled.

I grabbed the empty bowl and put it in the dishwasher before turning to face him.
“Do we get to dance today?”
“Why, are you looking forward to it?” he asked as he sat down where I had been sitting a few moments before.
“Maybe I am,” I said with a smile on my face.
“You’re smiling again and perhaps after breakfast,” he said. “And only if you read to me after dinner.”
“I was going to do that anyway,” I said.

My elbow rested on the counter and my chin rested on my hand. He clasped his hands together in front of him.
“Perhaps I was going to ask you to dance anyway,” he said with a smile on his face.
“Maybe you were,” I said with a shrug as I grabbed a bowl and set it in front of him.
“Don’t you believe me?” he asked with a frown and I felt slightly bad just looking at him.
“I do,” I said quietly. But I knew he heard it as he smiled again. “And, let me guess, you want chocolate cheerios with only a little bit of milk?”
“If you’re offering.”

After breakfast, Deucalion claimed I had learned the basic steps well enough to dance to music. He also said that was the only way to get better at the steps, to dance in time to music.

It turned out to be a lot more tiring than I had expected. And a little bit repetitive. The repetitiveness didn’t seem to bother Deucalion but it was slowly irritating me.

“Perhaps I should cook dinner soon.”
“Are you sure?” I asked as I took the CD out of the player.
“Yes, you are my guest. I helped you cook the first time and we had take-out yesterday so that doesn’t really count,” he said. He seemed fairly insistent on it. “Besides, you can have a little extra time to write.”
“I can help you if you need it,” I said as I put the CD back in its correct place. Despite being blind, I had the feeling he would know if I put the CD back in the wrong place.
“I know.”

Smiling, I picked the notebook and pen up and headed over to the breakfast bar. I sat and he raised his eyes.
“I can at least provide some company.” He smiled and set to cooking food while I opened the notebook and flicked to the last page I had written on. I had written a fair few pages. Twenty-two, to be exact. Both sides of the pages too. I didn’t want to waste paper even if the ink slightly bled through the paper at times.

I stopped writing while eating, it felt a little rude to carry on.

“Do I read to you after this?”
“If you’d like,” he said as he placed his knife and fork down on his empty plate. Either he was a really quick eater or I was a really slow eater and I was starting to think it was the latter of the two options.
“I would like to.”
“You’re smiling again.”
Laughing a little, I had to pause from eating just so I didn’t risk spitting out food or choking on any of it. “Do you really have to point it out?”
“I will if it keeps getting these kinds of reactions.” Shaking my head, I carried on eating and tried not to smile as I said anything.

As soon as we finished, I returned to writing. But only for an hour or so, then I’d read to him. The hour turned into two while listening to music again but eventually I stopped at what I thought was a good place to end it, since I was likely to never return to the story.

His arm was resting on the back of the sofa and I shuffled across to sit closer to him. He smiled as I flicked back to where I had stopped reading to him the night before. This was going to be the last time I could do this. After clearing my throat, I let myself relax and read the words I had written.

I closed the notebook and leaned forward to place it on the coffee table.
“That’s the last time I’ll be able to do that then,” I said, feeling a tinge of sadness as I let go of the notebook and rested the pen on top of it. Leaning back, I remembered Deucalion’s arm was behind me on the sofa. He didn’t seem to mind me resting against it. “What do you think of it?”
“I like the striking descriptions, as always,” he said. “And I like the way you read, the way you add personality into the dialogue.” My cheeks heated up as I smiled and thanked him.

“Do you have a favourite bit?” I turned to face him.
“The waterfall still, I think,” he said. “But other than that, I’m rather fond of your reading.”
Nervously, I chuckled. I wasn’t sure what to say in response. “Thank you, I’m glad you liked it.”

He turned to face me and yet again, I couldn’t bring myself to look away from his red ringed eyes. There was just something interesting about the way they had healed.
“You’re sweet, Liza. I’m afraid I don’t know many people like you.”
“And I don’t know many people like you, you’re quite unique.” He smiled and, as usual, I smiled back. “I should probably change into my other clothes and head back.”
“Yes, probably a good idea,” he said but he sounded a little hesitant.

I stood and headed back to the guest room. I had made the bed earlier in the morning. I left the dirty clothes folded, there was probably a utility room somewhere. After changing into the clothes I had arrived in, I grabbed the dirty clothes and left the room. I couldn’t take a last look at it despite it being the nicest room I had ever slept in. Deucalion pointed me in the direction of the utility room where I could leave the clothes.

Standing by the elevator, I waited for it to reach the top floor. I turned around to see Deucalion standing in front of me.
“Could you do me a favour?” I asked. I knew the cover story I was going to use and it wasn’t the one Deuc had suggested about him being my boyfriend. It was a bit more believable than that.
“What is it?”
“Scratch my cheek,” I said a little shakily. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do this but I knew I had to.

He frowned slightly as he placed his hand on my cheek. His eyes glowed red and I winced back as his claws dug into my flesh. I muttered a thanks as I gingerly pressed my fingers against the wound on my cheekbone.
“It shouldn’t scar,” he said.

“I should go, Deuc. I have to escape while your distracted or something like that,” I said. He reached forward and I took his hand. “I’ll think of more specifics on the walk back, I guess.”
“I almost don’t want to say goodbye.”
“Then don’t,” I said with a shrug. His eyes were still glowing but his claws had returned to normal nails. Hearing the elevator doors open, I let go of his hand and took a step backward. “It was nice spending time with you.”

I pressed the button, I couldn’t believe I felt like crying at this. I had known him for three days. Three days wasn’t long at all and certainly not enough to be crying. Or maybe I was crying over what I was about to do.

“You too, Liza.”

The doors closed and the elevator started moving downwards.