The flat was worn down but he had no other means to change that sad verity nor was he accustomed to anything better. And as he stood there, his periphery taking in the thread bare sofa and the small telly on the wooden crate he'd nicked from the pub he worked at, the light from the small side table shone dimly illuminating the note he clutched and read over for the third time. Educing memories long stored and cherished. Beginning with one of the most terrorising events of his life, the fright of which still chilled him to his marrow. He could still feel the cold and…..
His heart was nearly beating its way through his chest. Legs were already led, the panic was vast and all-consuming and the instinct to survive and endure was palpable. Brambles and branches whipped at his face and arms and took hold of his clothing like clawed beasts as he sprinted through the forest. His breath came out in gasps and billowed out in a white haze reddening his nostrils and lips. The cold chilled his lungs. Overwhelmingly so, as night had finally settled and the moon rose, disclosing the woods floor with an icy light. And as he turned his head to look back a shadowed upraised root took hold of his foot and he careened into a slight downward slope. A panicked whimper escaped him and he spat out leaves and earth as he heard it. A growl and he could just make out the menacing yellow eyes reflecting with the moonlights stony gleam through the trees it's shaded mass coming ever closer. He took to speed again hoping it had not gained any ground on him but internally he knew it was moot to hope. He knew what it felt like to be hunted and this beast was toying with him playing with its prey before it truly struck and tore it asunder.
He did not know how much more he could run, sweat was already drenching him and all he could do now was curse himself for letting time slip away earlier when he took his routine stroll through the woods. But this thing was beyond anything he had ever thought existed and there was no way of knowing it came with the Moon and as he looked up its full splendour washing away most dim stars he realised and not truly believing. A Werewolf, it was a fucking Werewolf. There was no other explanation. And even if was true how would that help him, he had no means of killing the monster. None, but then all those movies always said that werewolves were killed with silver. And he had his pocketknife the gift his Secondary school teacher Remus and he told him to never leave anywhere without it. Here he was with the silver knife in his pocket. There more for comfort than anything else. His first ever gift and it never had left his person.
Now he knew he had to take a stand. His final stand and he would not allow this beast to best him and so easily become its stress-free prey. He knew he had to lead it as close to the road as he could and he was nearly there the Light from the light posts glimmered through the tree boughs. He could hear it picking up speed its claws upturning leaves and earth as it bolted towards him. He was at the edge now and as he turned to face his assailant he withdrew his pocketknife and stood legs apart, hand behind his back and waited for the onslaught. He didn't have to wait long. Two seconds was all it took before it collided into him. He took hold of its fur as they bowled into to the asphalt.
'The fuck was th-…Fucking Hunters!' He vaguely heard and several footsteps before the beast opened its maw to go in for the kill. It was instinct that drove him next, because his head ached and stars were born and they burst within his sight but he shot the blade upward at the roof of its mouth. Then quickly released and strove it into its neck and then straight into its heart while blood poured and gushed over him as the beast reared back, writhed and screamed and screeched until it finally folded upon itself and crumbled. He reached up to his face and wiped at some of the blood that now coated it liberally. And almost as if through a tunnel a voice asked.
'Why the fuck would you take it on alone if it was your first time?'
He whipped his head around finding the noise and came at a man with an odd blade in hand. Not a particularly tall man although taller than himself for sure. But very few people were as tall as or shorter than him and as he searched the man's honey coloured eyes he took in his arrogant and dismissive smirk. Still in shock and not fully understanding what was asked he whispered the only thing his mouth and brain could form.
'What the FUCK was that?' He watched as the strangers face fell and changed. Where once it looked capable of only arrogance and derision now it held confusion and the man spoke again slightly disbelieving.
'I don't know.' The man answered shrewdly 'You don't know what that was?'
He shook his head and after a long moment and almost grudgingly the man spoke once more.
'Are you all right? Were you injured?'
He quickly confirmed that he was well and the man nodded and turned to leave. He sputtered.
'Thank you!' He bellowed perturbed by the man's quick departure.
'You're welcome!' The man yelled. Snorting but not bothering to turn back.
'Wait! Wait! What's your name?' He couldn't let him go without knowing. The man did stop then and turned. He was received with confused eyes and downturned lips.
'What you wanna know that for?'
'I would like know the name of my, would be, saviour.' It was his turn to be confused as the man's now distrustful glare.
'Gabriel…they call me Gabriel,' the man finally relented. 'And I didn't do anything.' Gabriel said as his smirk made an unnerving reappearance.
'Yes but you tried and that's what matters. Most people wouldn't have. They would have run for the hills….and well I wanted to thank you properly. Where were you going in such a hurry?' He said as he stood. It was a rather odd the way Gabriel introduced himself but he needed to at least thank the man even if it meant buying the man a drink, coffee or a damn cigarette.
'I wanted doughnuts.' Gabriel said motioning with his thumb towards the shop five meters away the only shop on the lonely path except for the petrol station connected to it.
'Oh…..Come over to my place its cosy and I make better doughnuts than that rubbish.' He said honestly only to receive a leer in return. He was accustomed to leers; the bar he worked at was well stocked with them. It was full with men too drunk to care who they had a one off with. And as he realised how he misspoke the offer his face went beet red and Gabriel for the first time looked into his eyes and for his part felt unnaturally naked. Almost as if Gabriel had taken a light and looked into his soul and knew all his secrets, thoughts, and past. In that moment left him open for all to see and he felt exposed and regretted his invitation.
Though strangeness passed Gabriel face nodded and said.
'I'd like that.' And he suddenly feeling foolish for the odd sensation felt at Gabriel's gaze and the regret at the invitation disappeared as if never existing.
'I think it may be a long walk.' He said sheepishly.
'I don't mind. I'd walk miles for a good doughnut….or chocolate!'
The silence that ensued was not an uncomfortable one only broken when Gabriel asked for confirmation of directions and it took an hour before they finally arrived.
The building looked to have seen better days the lawn was well trimmed though the windows looked dirty and some were even broke. Except for the a couple windows that shone cleanly and one with what looked like a wind chime hanging happily from the top most floors. They entered the building and Gabriel's sneer returned with full force as he took in the grime and filth of the small lobby like entrance and they made their way up the carpeted stairs. The carpet emitted a foul stench and they made sure to stay clear of the rail as it seemed coated in filth. When they finally reached the top floor with a sole door and Harry reached into his pocket and wrestled with the dead bolt and heaved open the door. It was pitch black and he felt for the light switch. The switch that even after 3 years living there he could never find in the dark. The light came to life and flickered until it gleamed drearily.
'It's not much but its home. Make yourself at home. I'll tell you what, sofa's dead comfy.' He said motioning to the threadbare sofa. Gabriel did so taking in the shabby flat.
Everything was well worn and rustic yet everything unnaturally tidy and the aroma a flabbergasting contrast to the pong outside the door. The frayed sofa, adorned with bright neat pillows of scarlet, indigo, purple a golden knitted throw, and two candle holder like lamps astride iron wrought end tables took up the wall facing the sparkling windows. Were a long homemade wind chime swung lethargically made of spangled sea shells, silver bells and painted copper pipes. A small telly atop a long wooden crate painted black with what looked like hundreds of thin records within it sat below the cheery window. The walls were a darkish grey like the sea on a cloudy day two of which had a door and were flanked by homemade book cases stuffed and bloated with books, knickknacks, music and photos. Most of which held a bespectacled man and a ginger haired women with a resplendent smile. Some a stunningly handsome man dark haired and grey eyed and with an easy smile. Fewer still had a tall sandy haired man with scars on his face, hands and arms. There was a round coffee table made from ebony that held a couple of magazines and Gabriel looked down at him and he took in the surprise before he shot out rather annoyed.
'You didn't think my place was as unkempt as the place outside did you?'
'Unkempt is an understatement. It looked like squalor from outside. I'm….sorry.'
He didn't respond. Gabriel's hesitation made it clear how uncommon it was for him to apologise. He nodded accepting it nonetheless.
'Are you sure you're alright. You're all like…fucking calm. You killed something not an hour ago.'
He stood rigid. It hadn't plagued him. Neither the death, nor that he almost died. He was used to a certain amount of violence.
'I suppose I am a bit Au fait about it. But it tried to kill me. It…I don't know…It was me or it…..and I'm not at all sorry.' He responded honestly, shrugging off the thick coat that thankfully did not allow the blood to soak unto his shirt, before asking. 'That doesn't make me sound callous does it?'
Gabriel looked at him as if to see if he was true and after a moment he replied quietly as if unnerved for a split second.
'Not at all.'
'Really?'
Gabriel nodded and replied. 'I don't think I've met someone as truthful as you.'
He smiled, unsure what to say and he motioned Gabriel to the kitchen. He didn't look back to see if Gabriel followed but rather heard him step on the creaky floorboard in the small hallway that held two closed doors and an open doorway. He gestured to one saying.
'That's the bathroom. Help yourself if you need it.'
They made their way into a small dining room. It held a round table covered in silver table cloth and 4 sheath covered chairs surrounded it the walls were once again grey and covered in white coloured framed mirrors in various sizes. Some ornate others simple and it did well enlarging the very small room. The room seemed a complete different entity, elegance in contrast to the rest of worn flat. A breakfront with fine china and silver took up one wall.
'Where did you get that?' Gabriel asked impressed with the quality.' I haven't seen anything with that quality in a long time….A very long time, actually.'
'Are you some expert in cutlery?' He asked with a teasing smile.
Gabriel was frozen unsure what to say.
'I saw some in a museum once.'
'Oh… er… family heirlooms. My parents wedding china, crystal and my father's family silver that is.'
'Are they….I mean…have they passed.'
'Mm hmm.' He confirmed. 'Since I was a baby. I've been with my Aunt and her husband.'
'You don't like them much then?' Gabriel asked as he walked and looked into the cheery kitchen. It was sunset in colours and the small table a heavy oak had two thin books supporting one of the legs. There was a rack suspended from the high ceiling and copper pots and pans hung from it. A window stood beside a door leading to the back and outside. The window had a large box with herbs growing and a great pot next to it on the floor grew tomatoes.
'That would be an understatement. They weren't very good people. I snatched those from them. They were using it for their table.'
'Oh.'
'About those Doughnuts…..' Harry said changing the subject and making his way to the deep sink to wash his hands and face.
It was enjoyable really. There was an easy camaraderie that surprised him as they baked and then they fried the doughnuts while chatting and drinking wine. And Harry hoped that he'd found a friend. He had not made any since moving to New York. Nor had he made any at the bar. They were colleagues…of a sort. They did not like him much. They did not like his easy charm when it came to coaxing the straight men into relaxing around him, an obvious gay man, or that the bar had an influx of loyal clientele since his arrival. Nor did the men know how to act around due to his sexuality. Mr and Mrs Krachowski the elderly couple downstairs didn't count much as friend though he was extremely friendly with them and his numerous boxes of leftover chocolates, doughnuts and pasties kept them very happy when he played his records loudly.
And as the night crept by them and He finally boxed the treats in a colourful box did a silence finally stretch. Broken only by Gabriel as he tucked his treasures under his arm and said as he stood
'I think I should go…it's very late.'
He nodded and led Gabriel to the door.
'Listen anytime you're in the neighbourhood stop by.'
Gabriel nodded exiting and with him taking any trace of companionship he would have in a very long. The oddity was not lost on him. A man he knew for less than a night did more for his loneliness than anyone else had. Never before had he given thought to his lonely existence. Constantly surrounded by people yet close to no one and Gabriel's presence was improbably like a small shower to a parched land, like a mayfly come and gone fleetingly
Six Months later
The din of the bar was taking a toll on him. He had already broken up two fights and it was only 9 o'clock. He'd gotten his arse groped by an overly drunk man who was falling over his stool. Apparently he wore jeans a size too small as David the busboy explained rather uneasily. He was also covering for Natalie the waitress who had a penchant for ringing in sick; of course it led for a rather hostile milieu. Two patrons had already sent back their full orders. Apparently the regular cook had an excuse as well leaving him to confirm what he always suspected. They were having an affair together. Not that he cared much if the cooks marriage fell apart but it infuriated him that it affected him at work. Cursing them he made towards the man that had entered and sat on the booth at the foremost wall shadowed because the lamp above him had wiring problems the owner refused to pay for. When he made to ask for an order he came upon familiar honey coloured eyes and in this light they were greener and less gold but still made for a striking sight. He took in the smirk and he did not know whether to smack it off or hug the man it belonged to.
'Gabriel?'
'The one and only!'
'I didn't think I'd ever seen you again.' Harry rushed out bluntly.
'I had to come back for the doughnuts. Best I've ever eatin.'
'Piss Off!' Harry cried blushing and rolling his eyes heavenward.
'No really. Nearly came in ma pants with the first bite.' Gabriel said leering at Harry over his grime covered plastic menu pointing at him. 'So I'ma steal you from work and.' Then pointed his graceful yet firm finger at himself and continued rather haughtily. 'Your baking me more sweets, cookies and doughnuts.'
Harry arched an eyebrow and asked exasperated. 'Is that so?'
Gabriel nodded sagely; as a seer would, confident in their own casting, and smirk still in place. Harry could do nothing but laugh and say scandalised. 'I can't bunk off work.'
Gabriel let out a groan. 'Fine I'll wait till you're off.'
'You're going to wait here for two hours?'
Gabriel huffed took out a large chocolate bar, its size not correlating with the coat pocket, and put an obscene amount in his mouth and said in a put upon voice. 'No. I'll go and come back when you're done slaving away.'
'Oh, fuck off you twat.' Harry snorted. 'Bet you never did a hard day's work in your life.'
'I have too!' Gabriel cried not liking the Idea of seeming lazy…even if he was. Harry laughed still not believing. 'I'll have you know that when I was on speaking terms with my father and brothers all I did was work the days away.'
'Hmmm.' Harry muttered as he canted his head sideways appearing to make a study of Gabriel's person. He looked down to Gabriel's hands that still clutched at the chocolate bar. His forefinger calloused and rough was smudged with chocolate and the thumb had an odd shaped callous that Harry knew came from working with a knife or blade. He looked up and peered into Gabriel's honey coloured eyes and saw earnest verity and Harry believed him and for some reason he saw in those eyes that Gabriel cared what Harry thought of him.
'Very well, I believe you.' Harry finally conceded and Gabriel gave smile, a true smile and not the galling smirk that so frequently splashed his lips.
'I'll go make myself useful then.' Gabriel replied as he left with a genuine smile and a rather ridiculous strut. Harry shook his head and hurried to finish his shift.
Two Hours Later
He stepped out of the bar, the spring air ruffling his light jumper. The stars twinkled knowingly down at him a huff at his right startling him.
'I don't like your clientele...Nope …Not all.' Gabriel said shaking his head, his hands fisted in his dark blue jeans and brow furrowed.
'Hah! Why not?' Harry replied an amused smile upturning his lips.
'They're perverts.' Gabriel replied simply.
Harry snorted pinching the bridge of his nose with mock exasperation.
'They're all drunk.'
'No excuse. They're more pervy than me on a bad day!'
Harry threw his head back and laughed heartily.
'Somehow I highly doubt that anyone could out perv you.'
Gabriel features were graced with a look of false sheepishness that was so comical, that Harry was certain Gabriel never had the decency to ever be truly sheepish.
'Well come on I bet you're desperate for some chocolate and biscuits.'
Gabriel beamed as if he'd been handed the greatest gift he'd ever desired.
'So where have you been all this time.' Harry asked curiously trying to not let the accusatory spike in his gut seep in.
'Italy.' Gabriel stated simply.
'Really?' Harry asked eyebrows disappearing into his fringe.
Gabriel nodded amused knowing he couldn't tell Harry that he'd gone from Italy, Australia, Japan, Russia and Holland all with three days.
'What part? I've always wanted to go. La Scala puts wonderful productions on.' Harry exclaimed excitedly.
'The fuck…you like ballet?' Gabriel asked traumatized.
'Well, some. Not as much as opera though. Ballet is rarely exciting.'
'I've never liked ballet. Fucking Russians.' Gabriel's face twisted into a scowl as if remembering past wrongs.
'To be fair the music compassed from the Russians was perfection. But the Russian prima ballerinas lately, though technically superior, perform with the personality and emotion of blow up dolls.' Harry muttered placating. He jumped in surprise when Gabriel's laugh danced in the spring breeze suddenly and exuberantly.
'Very true.' He agreed and arched a brow. 'Opera huh.'
Harry rolled his eyes. 'It's not like that's all I listen to.'
'Really? ' Gabriel asked unconvinced as if Harry had decided to back pedal.
'Yes and Ill prove it.' Harry cried pointing at his flat as they arrived.
'We'll see.' Gabriel mocked knowing he'd already worked Harry up.
And in that instant Harry knew that no matter how odd their "friendship" came to be, he had done the right thing inviting Gabriel back to his home the first night they met.
