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3
Beaucóup
"Very Much"
The best part was coming.
The blurred frame was already floating around to force more details.
She trots faster and faster. Feeling the pleasurable breeze soar through her black mane as she races. The cliff's edge comes into view. You want to stop her, pull back on the reins. But something won't let you. The dream wants to go further, it wants you to feel the heart thumping, sweat poring and nauseating kick when you fall. She leaps into the air, strong back legs just releasing land. Blue ocean below. Then you start to feel it. The moment before it happens, the instant you feel your body weightlessly hovering in the air, you wake up. Sometimes from the kick or the jerk but other times your eyes simply just flash open. Not for me. As soon as I felt the kick, I physically kicked my foot. The wounded one.
"Shit!"
Fully awake now. Takes awhile to realize what just happened. And then...
"Jack? Oh Jack, I'm so sorry!"
He held his nose at the end of the bed. "It's alright," he tried to say without nasal dialect. I gently pulled his hands away and observed for myself. No blood, the pain was inside. "I was trying to change your bandages. Your foot probably hurts a lot more now though. It kicked me pretty hard."
"I didn't mean to," I knelt on the edge, briefly glancing behind at the semi-bandaged foot. "I'm not even sure if I felt anything. How bad does it feel?"
He smiled weakly, now sitting on the mattress and squeezing the brim of his nose. "It doesn't feel too bad. Don't worry about it."
Something's missing here.
"Where's Tyler?"
As if just remembering himself, something snapped. He morphed. Gray eyes were practically hurling knives into Tyler's unmoved pillow. He could very easily turn into the Hulk right now. "He left."
"Oh," try not to make a big deal out of it. "That's okay, no problem-"
"No, it is a problem! He said he was going to watch you through the night and he just left! The bandages had pus all over them, they were falling off, he was supposed to change them!"
"You guys don't have to babysit when I get hurt. It's really okay Jack. As long as I changed them in the morning-"
"It's not okay! He's so fucking irresponsible. He didn't just leave this morning you know, he left not but a few minutes after putting you in here. And he was so protective, so sweet last night, cradling you, it was all just an act. Getting as many points as he could. He doesn't think! The game stops when something like this happens. It's just a game for the love of god!"
Tyler would do everything he just said. And if he actually did every single one, I wouldn't doubt it. But according to last night, I probably didn't even comprehend what was going on. I wasn't all there.
He kept going. "And how long is this going to go on for? Is he going to shout who's winning while you're bleeding to death? This probably doesn't even mean anything to him, just something fun to pass the time-"
"Jack!" he trips and falls to the bed. I might have tugged too hard. The floor was going to wear with all his pacing. "Calm down. I'm sure he'll be back soon and when he does you can give him hell. But for now, just relax. Let me take a look at those stitches." He groaned quietly but relaxed so I could move his neck.
Pus around the outer area, the inside was closing rather nicely. It just needs some antibiotics. The stitches survived the night. "You didn't brush your teeth did you?"
Guilty smirk. "You know me way too well," desperate chuckle. "But when your doctor isn't available, you make do." He circled around, knelt in front and breathed out through his nose. We met in a friendly stare while his fingers slowly began dancing on top of my knees.
"Better than you know yourself."
"I can believe that."
Innocent banter always helps relieve tension.
The dancing stopped and flattened. My skin was beneath his. Staring innocently. He knew exactly what he was doing. But he also knew how I felt about Switzerland. Always neutral, trying to stay the same and keep everything going the way it should. This was all I had; I didn't have anywhere else to go. If one thing went wrong between any of us, it could end badly.
So, as usual, he looked away, forgot the arousing, evocative thoughts and spoke. "You hungry?" Only Jack could do this.
I shook my head, thanking him with one look. He wanted to smile in return, to let it go but he could only stand. I knew what he was thinking. He didn't have the guts, wasn't as good looking, would never get what he wanted, would always be second best, the shadow. I wanted to tell him differently but that would mean something else to him.
"Let's put some medicine on there before we do anything okay?"
He walked out before I even stood, nodding feebly to himself.
This right here. This low self-esteem, not as bad as it was before he met Tyler, is a constant battle for him. But then again, it was mine too. Not Tyler though, he was the strongest. He didn't care what people thought, how he should look, whether he had clean or dirty shower water or the huge stack of concrete piled up to keep the bathroom from caving in.
He's comfortable with who he is. Nothing bothers him. Except one thing. No, not one thing, a whole cluster full of things. But still, they weren't about him. That ship already sailed. They were about society's bystanders, well everything about society really, the economy, consumerism, politics. An anarchist's playground. He hated when I called him one but in all honest truth; he was. Jack was hesitantly on his way, you could see him absorb Tyler's words into his person as if it were oxygen.
And out of all of Tyler's somewhat ingenious remarks, one popped up as I held a staring contest with one of his kitchen gloves: "Only after disaster can we be resurrected."
A loud shattering crash made me jump up and race towards the window. I had to wipe the blinding dirt with a blanket to see. Peering through, Tyler had thrown an empty Coke bottle in the yard. At least he remembered the yard instead of the pathway. Strutting towards the door with the same indifferent confidence.
Better go patch the other Durden up before they get into it.
Even though my presence will be completely ignored, I'm still going to add my two-sense. If something like this made Jack so upset then it's worth it. I've never seen him so enraged before.
"What?"
Jack stood in front of his grimed mirror, trying to rip the stitches out himself. "What do you think you're doing!" I nearly ran into him, despite limping, yanked his hands away and pressed my own on top of the oozing gash. A few thick layers of blood poured over my knuckles. "I told you we needed to put medicine on it, not take them out!"
"Stop yelling," he sucks in sharply as I press harder. "I thought I could-"
"Shut up! You're making them tear your face apart. Just don't talk," one hand on him, the other frantically searching for the antibiotics and bandages. "I can't believe- OW!" The very tip, where Jack started to work, was poking out and stupid me, I didn't see the sharp wire. It didn't go in very deep though.
"What! Oh shit Devyn, I'm sorry! Let me-" he tried to reach but I slapped his hand and ignored mine. His was still bleeding thick blood lines while mine streaked thinner ones.
"It's fine, don't move or speak. I'm trying to fix the damage."
Grab the gauze, press it to the wound, find the forceps, move the gauze down, try to insert the suture back into the skin. "Don't you ever do this again," glare as harsh as you can.
"What the hell?"
"Don't ask," already knew who it was before he opened his mouth.
"Don't have to. You trying to beat yourself up again little brother?" Tyler laughed, sliding in between the door and sink. His tousled spikes smashed up against the green wallpaper as he leaned back.
Jack watched him, opened his mouth again but- "No." I gently tapped the other side of his face before he could. "Don't talk to him Tyler, if he talks I'll lose the wire completely."
"Terribly sorry," he grabbed onto the rest of the gauze, rolled it up into a ball and tossed it up and down. "So, what happened?"
Jack and I met an understanding through another synchronized gander. "Nothing you should be concerned about," he narrowed his eyes in a gracious manner.
"Uh huh," Tyler plays with his gum, almost losing it to the floor. "I saw that little look you two just shared. But, whatever, you don't have to tell me. I'll just assume Jack thought he could take the stitches out himself and ended up ripping them the wrong way. Or something."
Finished. Tape the new bandage on top so he doesn't fiddle with it again. It'll hurt when we take it off but it's no more than he deserves.
"Done, you can talk now unfortunately," I threw the tools back into the kit and maneuvered around.
"Hey," but he grabbed me before I could walk out. "Thank you."
He meant it but I wasn't in the mood to show gratitude. "Remember what I said, do it again and I'll personally rip them out for you."
His crusted smile met my sneer.
"I knew it!" Tyler laughed. "And you guys gave me all that crap for taking that tiny little tinker out last night." He shows how small the glass piece was with his fingers, an obvious exaggeration, before roughly patting Jack on the head and sprinting out. I was right on his tail but didn't follow completely. He went to his room, I went downstairs.
Passing the blood stain below the phone, entering the bright kitchen, my stomach growled. The fridge was warmer than usual, it was a target for the sun today. Another growl. The only thing that held a small interest was leftover noodle soup. Tyler's specialty. Anything that's more of a liquid substance mixed with a solid is his specialty.
A violent black wave dangled in front of the view, snagging onto my upper eyelid. It was only this vicious because of all the stress corrupting its normal texture.
"Well, well," Tyler popped his head over the yellow door. I had no choice but to play hot potato and try to prevent the soup from crashing all over the floor. Successfully caught its very corner and brought the container into my ribs. "Didn't mean to scare you," he closed the door and stood in front. "Soup huh? Good choice. Heat some up for me too."
He crossed his arms. The old and ragged coffee robe hid the obvious muscles beneath, with only his iridescent smiley face boxers on. Just this very image would make any woman go light-headed and have the hardest time removing his husky bod from their sight. Unfortunately I was one of them. But in light of the situation before-hand, I had an easier time dragging my eyes away and focusing on the microwave.
"That took a lot didn't it?"
He doesn't miss a thing.
"May I suggest not fighting," he leaned closer, taming the coiled strand by smoothing it within his own fingers and straightening the curl as he pulled it down. Coming dangerously close to touching my breasts. "Just run with it," and allures with such dexterity.
He could have easily leaned closer and 'accidentally' grazed across the bra's under-wire but he doesn't. Not because of his doing of course, but mine. I snuck my hand up his chest and pushed him back. "Do you want me to heat up your soup or not?" No sarcasm or implied sensuality attached.
"What's up with you two?" he moved to the side. "Is it hate Tyler day or something? Jack nearly bit my head off when I threw a blanket on the bed. And your- Is it that time of the month? I know Jack's on his."
How long do I put this for? Maybe 2 minutes, this microwave gets really hot though. I'll have to watch it.
"Hello?" Tyler shimmied his hand in front of the timer.
"What?" press start.
"No need to give attitude. If you require more of your lady things, I'll have Jack run to 711 and get some."
"I'm not on my peri-"
"Shh," he looked away with childish disgust. "Don't say it. Why do they even call it that? It's like calling a penis, a dick. A dick is a shortened abbreviation for a detective. There's no relation. It's what the long years of vulgar slang morphed the word into- Where are you going?"
"Your soup, you watch."
"Devyn, what's-hey!"
I was already out the back door and tripping through the messy garden. What is it with men and that subject?
