This needed to be uploaded so I could study tonight. Admittedly, I wrote some of this and came up with the rest during my Egyptian Religions class. Not that I don't like learning about incest and Tutankhamun, but this was in my head and needed to come out. Point being, I will probably come back every so often to edit small things in this, like I do with everything else I write. If all I did was edit before posting, then nothing would ever be posted ever. I hope you enjoy it.
------
After almost an hour tutoring the brightest kid in my class on something she missed due to the flu, the mother knocked on the front door and I had to pretend that it was okay they had disturbed my dinner and I wasn't doing anything anyway so feel free to come by whenever you want after 9:00 PM and I should be home. Okay? Thanks for dropping by, see you at school tomorrow.
Clicking and bolting the doors shut behind them, I sighed and passed through the small kitchen to the back of the apartment. Walter had hidden himself well the entire time, sunk down into the cushions, arms tight around his chest and feet crossed on an armrest. I thought he was napping although it was more likely that he just ignoring me with his head turned into the cushions. I didn't care to test my theory - to say his name or any other words. I would prefer if he lay in peace for a while and let me reorganize my thoughts.
Pivoting myself on the armrest above his head, I stretched out an arm, fingers flexed to touch his hair. Just to feel. Breath stuck in my throat, I hoped that he really was asleep.
Snapping myself back just as he shot open his eyes, I muttered, "You can stay. I won't bother you."
His eyebrows rose in a Really? gesture.
"Do you want a blanket?" He would say no, he was fine.
He gripped himself tighter and huddled deeper into the formless cushions, squeezing his eyes shut to the room and myself. We would not talk about what I had done and I would not grant myself permission again to do so until I was sure he would not run from me. I turned to shut off the ceiling light from the corner, leaving the kitchen aglow in the late hour.
I finished my work in the silence, unsure what the kiss meant to either of us. He did not pull away or grunt in distaste; his lips hadn't even furled when I motioned to kiss him the second time. Which in my mind meant that he did not entirely dislike it, it just meant that he did not know what to do, that he did not want to do anything. However, a neutral response was better than the very plausible abandonment of our friendship.
The next time I looked at the clock, it was 1:32 and I looked to my left. Walter had flung his arms behind his head during a deep stretch but remained sprawled in silence. Sitting at my table with hands clasped tight atop piles of loose leaf sheets and teachers' manuals, I stared at the back of the sofa and his arms, the remainder of his body still concealed. Shadows flickered through my single window in the living space, tracking their small forms along corners and creases in the woodwork and walls.
I suddenly shivered, well aware of how weak my heat was. But instead of climbing up my small creaky staircase to go to bed, I shut off the remaining light and curled up on the floor against the sofa beside Walter's dangling arms.
I would not sleep well that night nor would I dare touch him again. His mere presence gave me a security I never even knew I needed. Shortly after I made myself as comfortable as possible, he whispered, "Should I leave?"
"No."
He tugged his arms back down tight and flipped to his right side, staring into the darkness.
Perhaps I should have retrieved a spare blanket for him. But it was upstairs and right now I had no desire to leave where I was.
…
In a half-dreaming state, I felt myself being placed up from the floor to something not so hard, hearing a brief rustle before I dozed off again.
Awakening to the sun in my eyes, I squinted and remembered that Walter had placed me here before leaving in the night. I smiled to myself, knowing he was probably asking himself Why right now.
…
I was late to classes, reprimanded severely by my boss, and stalked on the way home. I only realized the latter when I was feet from the tailor's and a man called my name harshly.
A co-worker. Another reason why I hated my job. He asked where I was going, if I wanted to do anything, why haven't I spoken to him?
No, no, and you're a creep, I wanted to say. I slapped away an arm that attempted to reach out, pulled in closer by an opposite hand and freed when Walter finally emerged from the shop and punched the man in the jaw without a word.
The man stumbled back. "Who the fuck are you?" he screamed at Walter before threatening him with a harsh step forward.
Another punch on the opposite side of the jaw and he fell. Walter slammed him against a nearby fire hydrant, kneeling on his haunches with flaring eyes.
"Doesn't matter. Get out of here and leave the lady alone."
It might have been overkill; the instructor wasn't exceptionally built and Walter had already beaten him. I averted my gaze away and let them stare each other to death. As I stepped back towards the shop, Walter got up and followed me in. I turned back around briefly to watch my co-worker slink off, wiping the blood from his face.
When we got inside and I shut the door behind me, I demanded Walter to show me his hand.
"Just get over here and give me the damn thing. I have bandages-"
"It's nothing," he said, barely above a whisper.
"It is. Now get over here and let me wrap it up."
He frowned and stood across the counter, placing his hand on the surface. His knuckles were bloody and I wiped it clean with a napkin from my bag.
"We have to carry around these things," I said, extracting gauze, "nurses are usually busy."
Suddenly I found that I was angry as I wrapped his hand tightly. I felt him looking at me as I worked but I couldn't meet his eyes right now.
I was furious because I didn't understand. I wanted to know what he thought of me, if he had thought of the kiss, if he really accepted me now in his life, this invasion that he never expected.
When I finished, I dropped his hand on the counter, swallowed and turned away. He did as well in resignation that I would remain in his presence. Only here, he was a captive under my eyes. He could have very well told me off multiple times.
I sighed and he murmured, "Don't ask questions." I won't tell you why I helped you, I imagined him saying. It remained that he had defended me twice, although this latter time was completely optional. He could have stayed inside and ignored us but he had taken an interest of his own volition – stop thinking about it, my mind told me. Just fucking stop.
I looked at Walter again as he returned to his machines and needles, his lone friends in the construction of human vanity and the desired form. The colors and fabrics with which he worked did not quite suit him. At any point in his life he could have quit and found another job in a different industry. Why textiles, I wondered, for a man that refused the touch of flesh, his fingers rejoiced in exploring the varying materials and patterns and feelings of softness and roughness. It was not his ideal work and any complaints he kept well hidden.
He knew what stitches and colors and fabrics complemented one another even in poor lighting. He knew what these clothes would look like on the people that purchased them, only ever slightly disappointed in himself when a customer was not satisfied. He would rip seems with enough care as to never have to waste more than half an inch on width of fabric.
He flexed his now bandaged hand, fingers stretched to work just as hard as his good hand. Rarely did he wince in pain but I believed that the one that escaped under his eye was not a result of physical anguish. The twitch was nervousness, embarrassment.
"Guess you don't need me anymore."
I was taken aback by the break in silence. "What? No, what is that supposed to mean?"
"You're safe now. Don't need me."
"That's not – that's not it at all! I didn't mean for you to become involved."
I sighed, "Why don't you get it?" I was frustrated. Tired. Tired more than anything which always made me cranky. "I told you already. Am I really the only person that's given a shit about you? I can understand your distrust if that's been your life. Most people these days see their lives like that but there's always something that gives a glimmer of hope. Otherwise the street would be filled with suicide victims."
More silence as I slouched back in my seat.
"Must you?" he muttered.
"What?"
"Help me. Why do you have to?"
"I – don't. But neither do you refuse." You do nothing, Walter; forgive me if you feel like I take advantage of that. "Your apathy provides no excuses."
Stay put. Stay here. Stay with hands gripped firmly instead of enveloping his face. But I couldn't even listen to myself. I got up and stepped towards him to kneel at his side.
Don't touch him, my mind ordered. Don't. Do. It.
His eyes drifted away to the work that he had left to come to my aid and now sat still with frozen hands. My fingers lightly wrapped up to his right cheek, my other resting on his thigh. "Walter-" look at me, I was about to say, but his hand snapped up to enclose my wrist tightly in bony digits, tugging up my entire body in a half-twist.
Deep blue eyes flared as he turned his head down to peer at me with such contempt that any other woman would have struggled to break free. I would not consent. Nothing but breath pervaded the air before I whispered his name again.
The hand around my wrist contradicted everything in one motion as his nails dug deep into my skin. I would not say his name a third time. I would not display my shock and throbbing pain. I glared at him, demanding some action; otherwise I would pull away and leave.
Our faces were only inches from each other; his thin lips revealed the slightest distaste at the proximity as he initiated an awkward kiss. I gripped the back of his chair with my free hand tightly, my other arm still raised at his side. My knees dug into hard floor as I strained up and he bent into the kiss, just as soft, just as light as that which I had given him but with less surety. His dry lips trembled, closed against mine. If he could only relax …
An attempt to retrieve my arm from his grasp failed; he held tighter, restricting the blood from my hand and my fingers tingled with the loss of circulation. As he withdrew his lips from this vile act, I pursued the second attempt, despite the even rougher hold on my wrist and the pain that was shooting down my legs and back.
As before, he did not pull back nor did he speak. But in his attempt to do so, or perhaps to draw a breath, I took advantage of his barely parted lips to kiss him once more, fully and deeply. Nothing passed through my mind and I finally withdrew with downcast eyes focused on the buttons of his shirt before I leaned back the next moment and he released his grip.
The soft gauze that enveloped his palm and knuckles had left an imprint on my wrist with red prints from his fingers on its underside. I rubbed my skin as I knelt back down beside Walter on the hard cold floor.
"Customers might come in," I sighed, standing. It was my turn to run away.
