Lovers at War - (A.R.)

Chapter 12

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Mind of Mine

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I ALWAYS FOUND the darkness to be strange. Living in the heart of the city for much of my life, I had grown used to having the warming, orange glow of street lamps outside of my window, their light filtering through the gaps in the curtains. But now, as I gazed out the window, there was a blackness here, in this unfamiliar town, that I couldn't recall seeing before - one that was almost absolute. When I tilted my head skyward, I could clearly see millions of bright stars dotted on the black canvas of night, yet none of that light seemed to filter far enough down to make any difference when I turned my head away.

I shifted my gaze to Wesley, who was still fast asleep in a dreamless state. Sometimes I wondered what kind of things such innocent, warm-hearted kids like my brother would dream about at night. Kids like him wouldn't have their minds corrupted so easily, as their main worries would be about what to eat for lunch, or what toys to buy next. Not like the worries I had, as an adult, yet not really: only eighteen and I felt like I'd the weight of the world on my shoulders.

I stood up slowly, careful not to make any noise. "I should put him to bed," I told Arvin, who was quiet for much of the last hour.

"I can drop him off, if you'd like?" Seemed to me that Arvin wasn't going to take no for an answer, as before I knew it, he had slipped his hands under Wesley's legs and picked him up with ease.

I just nodded, following him as we took the staircase upstairs. I guided Arvin to Wesley's bedroom, which was just across from mine, and when we'd reached there, he laid down my brother on his small bed, and draped a blanket over his sleeping figure.

With a single glance his way, Arvin and I quietly made our way back outside, closing the door behind us as we descended to the living room as before. The first thing that Arvin did when he reached downstairs was go directly for his jean jacket. He threw it over his shoulder, looking at me almost expectedly.

"I should get goin'," he said, putting his cap on. "Wouldn't wanna overstay my invitation."

"Nonsense," I said quickly, almost too quickly. Fiddling with my fingers, I contemplated whether to say next what I had in mind.

Arvin looked like he wanted to say something, but he visibly changed his mind as he turned on his feet. I spoke up, being sure with my words, "Would you like to stay the night?"

"I couldn't," he said, glancing down at his boots. Wait a moment, was he being shy? "It'd be rude, plus it's getting late."

I scoffed and he narrowed his eyes. "Funny coming from someone who threatened to kill another man the other day."

"Fine. Then don't come running for me when there's another fucker on your trail."

I wasn't intentionally trying to be mean, but I guess my choice of words were wrong, and then taken the wrong way.

"Arvin, you're missing the point," I explained calmly. "I don't mind if you stay, in fact . . . I'd kind of like it if you did. It'd make me feel relieved knowing that you didn't get into some road accident while driving in this weather."

After a moment - a very long moment, I was beginning to think that morning would arrive and we'd both still be standing there like losers without him having given me any answer. And then, as if he knew what I was thinking, Arvin reluctantly nodded, dropping his jacket on the couch casually. It was then that I knew that he had agreed, and we'd both hopefully get some sleep tonight.