Day 01 - Holding hands
Mariku buried his hands in his pockets. "Stop that," he muttered and sped up his steps, as if he tried to shake off Malik. Malik stopped and pressed his lips together. "Idiot," he cat-called at Mariku, then turned on his heel and went back home. The desire to spend the day with Mariku was gone. If Mariku wasn't willing to show that they belonged together, he would make it easy for him and stay away from him.
He banged the door behind himself. Malik took a deep breath. He calmed himself and felt the disappointment taking over. He had known, it would be difficult with Mariku, but he could at least try to show some affection. After all, he did everything for Mariku. Malik looked at his hands and clenched them into fists. He hadn't demanded anything impossible from Mariku, had he?
Mariku gazed after Malik and sighed. He had known immediately, it was a bad idea. No matter what he did, in the end he would make Malik unhappy. He had this doubtful talent of doing everything wrong related to Malik. Even if he meant well, in the end it was just wrong. They argued often and Mariku felt like he became more and more a burden to Malik. Why was he still here? He couldn't understand what Malik saw in him and why he hadn't chased him to hell already. Mariku looked at his hands and clenched them into fists. It was just a little thing, he had asked of him.
Later, as Mariku came home, Malik gave him the go-by. Malik cleaned, it was one of his quirks. When he was angry, he cleaned the whole flat. Their home had never been messy lately. "That was really childish," Mariku said, as he watched Malik scrubbing the bathroom floor. Malik said nothing, but Mariku noticed how he tensed his jaw. Mariku left him alone and went to the kitchen. Shards of broken plates lay in the trash. Why did he have to twist the knife in the wound? He sat down at the table. Despite his feelings for Malik, he was too proud to truly admit them. He should be happy, but all he did was to destroy his own happiness.
Malik didn't speak to him for the rest of the day. He just gave him bitter glances. Mariku was used to them. They had already been in this situation too often, and again, he thought of leaving. Malik deserved better, but in the end he stayed by his side. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving him.
Malik turned off the TV, without regard for Mariku, and went to bed. Mariku followed him. He never knew how he should act in this kind of situation. He switched off the lights and lay himself down next to Malik. Mariku stared at his back. In the dark, he couldn't make out any details, but he still saw the scars, standing out white from the dark skin. He owed them his existence. He was alive, thanks to something Malik hated. Their relationship had always been ill-fated.
He gently stroked Malik's back. Malik winced and turned around. "Stop it!" He hated it, when someone touched his scars.
"Malik…" But Malik turned his head to the side. "Malik." Suddenly he grabbed Malik's wrist and pressed his arm between them on the mattress. Surprised Malik looked at him. Mariku interlaced their fingers together. His heart raced with excitement. Silently they starred at their hands.
"It's okay for me, as long as we are alone," Mariku whispered, "to begin with at least."
"You're such an idiot", said Malik, but Mariku saw the smile on his face. He closed his eyes and squeezed Malik's hand. Small steps to happiness.