Everything is grey
His hair, his smoke, his dreams
And now he's so devoid of color
He don't know what it means
- Halsey - Colors
After unpacking the few things Soma had taken with him (some pajamas, his school uniform, some spare clothes and his toothbrush), he'd asked Arshad if he could take a shower. The man had nothing against it, and now the teen turned off the shower. He grabbed the towel he'd fetched out of the cupboard, while stepping out of the shower.
Arshad's bathroom was extremely organized. It was a little terrifying. All the after shave bottles on the shelf were arranged by color, the shaver stood in its holder. The towels in the cupboard had been neatly folded. Soma quickly put his still damp hair into a ponytail, before leaving the bathroom and entering the living room, where Arshad sat on a cushion on the floor and was obviously watching the news.
On the couch table stood several bowls, most of them filled with Indian food. A tray was filled with Naan.
"Do you have OCD?" Soma asked, sitting down on the couch and grabbing a plate. He began to fill his plate, grabbing some slices of the Naan and smelled it.
Arshad turned around to him. He already had a bowl in hand. "No?" came his answer.
"I just thought." Soma shrugged. "Your bathroom being so extremely organized and all."
"No, I don't," Arshad repeated himself, "Made yourself at home yet?"
The teen nodded. He hadn't yet made his bed, but he'd already filled the small closet with his few belongings. "I'm gonna bring more stuff over tomorrow," he answered.
Arshad crooked a brow, but his attention was back to the news. "Ain't nobody gonna notice?"
"Guess not," Soma answered. He was also looking at the TV now. Though there wasn't anything in the news he hadn't heard already. With the elections coming up, the whole country was awfully busy. And seemingly busy enough to forget the scandal of his father.
"Well then," Arshad exclaimed, "I'm gonna take you there tomorrow."
That seemed to satisfy the teen. They didn't talk much that evening. An occasional comment regarding the news or the food was all they spoke.
And so it actually didn't take long for Soma to decide that he'd be going to bed.
"I'm tired!" was all he said to declare that he, in fact, was going to sleep. Arshad turned down the volume of the TV and strained his neck to look at the teen. "Already?"
"Did you wanna pull an all-nighter with me?"
"What? No." Arshad really looked more confused than anything. It was kind of cute.
Soma couldn't help himself. He just had to make that joke. "Oh, so you wanted to spend the night that way. Well, guess that can be arranged. And don't worry, I won't tell the police."
His acquaintance's face turned a bright scarlet red. Soma didn't know if that meant that he in fact had intended to spend the night like that, or the mere fact that Arshad was a grown man who was uncomfortable with sex talk.
"Okay, okay, sorry," Soma murmured in-between laughing fits, "I'll just…I, uh, I'm gonna go to bed. Night."
"Hey."
Surprised, Soma turned around. "What?"
Without looking at him, Arshad said, "You need somethin', you call me."
A little perplexed, the teen nodded. "Sure," he said.
That night, sleep just wouldn't come to Soma. No matter how hard he tried, his lids were heavy and his yawns didn't stop, but he couldn't fall asleep. When the bedside clock told him that it was already past midnight, he gave up and turned on his back.
Arshad had tried his best to make it feel like home. But Soma couldn't help and think of his brothers, Mohini – of his mother. Sighing, he set up and wiped the sweat from his forehead. It wasn't even particularly warm. Still, Soma was sweating. His shirt almost drenched.
He swung his legs out of bed. You need somethin', you call me he'd said.
He was probably referring to material things. Not a pep talk, Soma thought. But still, could it really hurt to just ask him? Even though Arshad was most likely fast asleep by now.
Soma decided to get a glass of water. That was step one. He'd see what came after that. So he got up, quietly (or as quietly as possible) opened the door to his room and strode down the hallway till he reached the kitchen. One thing he'd found when entering Arshad's flat this afternoon was that every single room stunk of cigarettes. Except for his guest room.
He knew that Arshad was a chain smoker. He'd never liked, but accepted it. But nevertheless, Arshad had always been considerate of the younger. He'd rarely smoke around Soma.
Taking a gulp from his glass and then setting it down, Soma went back into the hallway. Not daring to turn on the lights, he made his way to Arshad's room, put his hand on the door handle and gently pushed it down.
"Arshad?"
Nothing moved. Understandably enough, since Soma's voice hadn't been really loud.
"Arshad?" This time, he spoke a bit louder. And this time, something stirred underneath the blanket.
Though "Mh?" was the only sound that left the other's mouth, Soma felt more encouraged and entered the room. He closed the door behind him and – froze. What was he supposed to do now?
"Hey, Arshad?" he whispered. The man stirred and suddenly the blanket moved. Arshad set up, lazily turning on his bedside lamp.
"Kadar? Hey, what's wrong? It's the middle of the night?!"
Suddenly, Soma wasn't as sure about this as he'd been before. "Sorry. A-And I know. But I…I just…I…I'm sorry, I'll go back to sleep now, it was stupid to wake you, sorry."
He had already turned around to leave the room, when Arshad held him back. "Kadar."
"I couldn't sleep," Soma finally said, "It's not that I don't feel comfortable I…To be honest, I don't know what's wrong."
He wasn't sure whether he'd heard correctly when Arshad asked him, "Do you want to sleep here?"
And he surely hadn't thought that here really meant here as in, Arshad's bed.
"Would it be alright?"
"Oh, stop being all that formal after you literally ripped me from my sleep. Just come over here and be quiet." Almost like an after-thought, he added, "And don't have any naughty thoughts."
Soma would have smiled, if it weren't for the fact that he was extremely tired and suddenly really exhausted. So he simply came over to the bed and slipped under the blanket.
Arshad turned the light back off and seemingly didn't pay much attention to the young teen who now shared a bed with him. Soma figured that his acquaintance was just too tired to care. So, the teen wondered, would he care if I…put my arms…?
"Don't even dare."
Soma startled upon hearing the other's voice. Confused, he asked, "Dare what?"
"You were gonna put your arms around me, weren't ya?"
Soma lifted a brow, though knowing that Arshad couldn't see it. "What? You reading minds now?"
With a groan, Arshad turned around to look at the purple-haired boy. They couldn't see each other properly in the darkness of the room, but Soma had the faint feeling that Arshad's face was a mix of furor and amusement.
"No, I can't," he finally answered. He stretched out his arm and carefully touched the hand that Soma had left hanging in the air. "But…You know, you sometimes move without thinking. It's like your body has a different mind. You kinda need to get a grip on that, prince."
The teen didn't know whether to be angry at this or just stare at the white-haired man perplexedly. In the end, he scrunched his nose at the familiar nickname. "You promised to stop calling me that!"
He pulled his hand free from Arshad's grip – though he had to admit he'd rather liked it – and turned his back on him.
Arshad didn't apologize for the nickname he used. Instead, he did something Soma hadn't thought he would. He slowly put his arms around the teen and pulled him against his chest.
"It's only for tonight," Arshad mumbled into his violet ponytail, "Besides, it's way easier to strangle you in this position. And you're not able to try anything naughty."
Soma laughed wholeheartedly. "Yeah, you're right. What a shame though – ouch."
Arshad had slapped him on the back. "Sleep. My patience's through with you."
"Alright," Soma smiled, "Love you."
"Yeah, lo-…Kadar."
But the teen was already fast asleep.
