Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

Pt 7

Author's/Rewrite Notes: Not much changed in this chapter from the original. Things are mostly just said in a different way. I still have eternal love for the line "As kind as your father, not your mother" because in a way it's a very nasty insult. In a way it doesn't belong but I could never cut it out. It's also quite out of place for Crawford to be calling himself an ass, I chock it up to him trying to connect with Calli on a more childish level.

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"You should be more like your father," my uncle said in English. I was sitting on my bed with my journal in my lap. He stood in the doorway. He had been dressed in a very proper cream suit at breakfast but now he wore only the pants and shirt with several buttons unbuttoned. "You shouldn't be like me."

"You're mad at me?" I asked in English.

"No," he shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. "I would be quite an ass if I was mad at you because of who you are." He walked over and sat next to me on the bed. "I just imagined you…" He trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to say. "Different," he said finally and ran his hand over my hair, "As beautiful as your mother, not your father and as kind as your father, not your mother." We sat in silence for a minute. I considered him without thinking anything and he returned my look. And then he left without saying a word.

I spent the rest of the day alone. I stayed in bed for days. I read books. Wrote my friends letters I never sent off. Scribbled self-rightous dribble in my journal. But mostly I just lay there and cried. None of it had been real until then. I had convinced myself that it was all a dream but it wasn't. Not anymore. I wasn't as ashamed as I usually would have been when Shuldich came and sat with me. Sometimes we would sit under the covers and read books together while other times he would just hold me while I cried and coo words of support in German. I liked having him near. And in all those days I didn't see my uncle once.

I didn't want to be alone but most of the time I was. Every night everyone would go out without a word to me and return well after midnight. Sometimes Shuldich would stay behind with me. He spent the time coaxing me to eat and bullying me into cups of vile tasting brews that put me to sleep. Other times it was Nagi who would open both our doors and glance over at me every now and then from his computer.

"What do you do in there?" I asked him once as I wandered past his door after a shower. Despite my depression I always took a shower, the only constant in my upturned world

"Researching," he said.

"Researching what?"

"People, he glanced up at me and went back to his computer.

"Are you my cousin?" I asked. His head shot up to look at me. He didn't seem shocked but his eyes were always blank. But this time I could see the emotion he was hiding behind them.

"No," he said finally and looked back at his screen, "no," he repeated.

"Where are your parents?" Nagi lifted his hands and leaned his chin on them. He didn't say anything but let snippets of emotion flicker out of his eyes, daring me to push the issue.

"Would you like some tea?" He asked.

"I will get it myself," I told him. He looked amazed and followed me into the kitchen. As silly as it sounds it was a big thing. For days, perhaps even weeks, I had only left my room to shower and go to the bathroom. Making myself tea was a huge step. And the symbolism was not lost on either of us.

"I'm sorry," Nagi said when I had settled into a seat in the living room, "It must be…" He stopped talking. I was grateful.

"I am not going to take Uncle away," I told him without knowing why. And for once my random thought was in Japanese. Nagi said nothing for over a minute.

"I know," he said and sat down. It was a sign of acceptance and it made me inexplicably happy. I could feel my heart starting to heal. I was living again, even if it was just making tea and building bridges. I lifted my mug to hide my smile and didn't look at him. We sat in silence, neither of us looking at each other, or anything else for that matter.

I looked up when the others came in. Shuldich grinned at me and then wandered down the hallway leading the white haired man I still hadn't met to a door that was always locked and I had never investigated. Nagi, however, leapt up and hurried over to my uncle. He cooed so quietly and quickly in Japanese that I couldn't understand what he was saying as he surveyed a gash on my uncle's cheek. I turned away towards the balcony and the night sky. It made me very jealous to see Nagi treat my uncle that way. I wanted to be the one who was standing up to help but I couldn't even ask what had happened. And someone even younger than me already knew.

I heard them leave.

I quietly followed.

The two went down the hallway and enter my uncle's room. I could see Nagi carefully removing my uncle's jacket and unbuttoning his shirt to expose the gash that had cut through his suit and shirt.

"Brad," Nagi said and buried his face into my uncle's chest. "Don't make me worry like this anymore," he begged, "please be more careful. Or at least bring me along so I can help." Uncle smiled and tilted Nagi's face up so he could kiss him. And the boy stood up taller to kiss him back.

I stiffened as I felt an arm snake around my waist. "Lieb," a voice purred in my ear. My uncle's door clicked shut, though no one had touched it. "Why don't we follow their example and retire to bed for the night." I pulled away from his suggestive grip at the equally suggestive words.

"I am not interested," I lied. He seemed to tell and in the depths of my mind I could almost hear him laughing at me.

"And I'm kidding," He said. And everything about him changed. I would have teased him right back had I not still been so afraid of him. The horribly vulgar grin plastered across his face coupled with the remnants of his suggestion almost made me wonder why I had such fear. Almost.

I tried to escape him. I returned to the living room where my tea had gotten cold enough to gulp but he followed me there and then into the kitchen where he watched me intently as I washed the mug by hand. I spent extra long washing it, hoping he would get bored of me and leave, and when he didn't I began washing all the other dishes in the sink. Still he stayed. Several timed I felt a tickling at the back of my mind but I had grown so accustomed to the feeling that it was nothing to push it away. And several times I saw Shuldich scowl when I did. So I stopped. He watched me so closely with his blue eyes that I became very self conscious about everything I was doing. I noticed, however, how beautiful he really was.

I couldn't understand why he watched me like that. I'm not much too look at. Mother was right when she said I looked like my uncle, whom she barely knew. My nose was bigger than his and my eyes green to his brown. His hair was significantly shorter than mine that tumbled lazily over my back and I had no glasses. I fancy myself athletic but certainly not the shapely girls he was probably so used to. I couldn't imagine why he wanted to torture me so.

When I was out of things to occupy myself I ran away from him again. This time back to my room where I shut the door and curled up under the covers.

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