After helping him into the taxi, I called Liv and told her something had come up, so I was heading home early. I promised to make it up to her with a meal later. She sounded concerned but didn't push, and I was grateful for that. My mind was already spinning, and I didn't have the energy to explain.
When we arrived at my apartment, I glanced at him and saw the shock written all over his face. It took me a second to realize he hadn't recognized me at first. The thought made me laugh, though I tried to stifle it.
"Why are you so shocked? Am I that different from the last time you saw me?" I said, biting back a smile.
He didn't respond, just stared at me like I'd grown a second head. I sighed, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, the last time you met me, I was a total mess. Exams, you know? This is more like my usual self. Anyway, come on. Let's get you inside."
He still looked dazed, but he didn't resist as I helped him into the apartment. His steps were unsteady, and I could feel the weight of his pain with every movement. Once inside, I guided him to the couch and started cleaning his bruises. I handed him a clean set of my dad's clothes and ordered some food since cooking was out of the question tonight.
He sat there, silent and still, his expression unreadable. But I could feel it, the pain, the anger, the exhaustion. It was like a storm brewing beneath the surface, and I didn't know how to calm it.
I tried to break the silence, my words coming out before I could stop them. "May I ask you something? Are you interested in dying young? Because, honestly, every time I've met you, you've been in some kind of trouble. First, it was those guys at the park, and now this? What's your deal?"
The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. His head snapped up, his eyes blazing with a fury that made my breath catch. For a second, I thought he might yell at me, or worse. But then he looked away, his voice low and bitter.
"You think I choose this life? No. None of this was my choice. I guess God just wants to see me suffer. You wouldn't understand, so just… stop talking, okay? And thanks for helping me. Twice. I appreciate it. But I'll change my clothes and get out of your hair."
He stood up, wincing as he moved, and I felt a pang of guilt. I'd pushed too far, and now he was shutting down. I couldn't let him leave like this, not when he was hurt, not when I knew there were people out there who wanted to hurt him even more.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," I said quickly, stepping in front of him.
"I shouldn't have said that. I won't bring it up again, just… calm down, okay? And you're not going anywhere. I can't just let you leave like this. That guy might find you again, and next time, he might not stop."
He didn't respond, just sat back down, his shoulders slumped. The silence between us was heavy, suffocating. I didn't know what to say, so I busied myself with tidying up, putting his clothes in the washing machine. But the question lingered in the air, unspoken but loud.
"Is there anyone you want to call? To let them know you're staying out tonight? Your parents? A friend?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
He didn't answer; he just sat there, staring at the floor, his hands clenched into fists. I moved closer, my heart aching for him. And then I saw it, tears. Silent, but there, glistening in the dim light of the room.
My stomach dropped. Had I done this? Had my questions pushed him over the edge? I grabbed a box of tissues and handed it to him, my voice soft.
"Are you crying because of what I said? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. If you want to talk about it, I'm here. Sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger, you know? If it'll help, I'm listening."
He looked up then, his eyes meeting mine. And in that moment, I felt something I couldn't explain. His eyes were like a window into a world of pain, dark circles, bruises, and scars that told stories I couldn't even begin to understand. His face was pale, his features drawn, and I could see the toll his life had taken on him. But there was something else, too, something raw and beautiful, hidden beneath the pain.
I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to help, all I knew was that I wanted to. I wanted to know his secrets, to understand the weight he carried. And more than anything, I wanted to see him smile, just once, to know that there was still light somewhere in those stormy eyes.