Day 31

1/22/2016 - Friday

The first thing I hear when I wake up is the wind. The noise sounds off and I immediately know why.

Back home in my little suburban street there's much more green, much more nature. Trees between each house and all around the house. High and proud they stand, oversee every little movement. I used to hear birds chirping every morning and every evening, hear the wind playing with the copious foliage. All neighbors and we too have precise cut lawns. There are flowered beds here and there but everything is down to perfection, forced into shapes. Only the majestic birch and hazelnut trees can grow without any restriction. Only once a year a team of ten neighbors get together and prune the branches a bit.

Here, I never have heard any birds chirping. Come to think of it here aren't many trees around, only in that rich boulevard in the park of course. So now, when the wind howls it never passes any branches or leaves. It simply passes, accompanied by the sound of traffic.

I love the city but I do miss a few things about my home. My life would be ideal if I could live near a forest and do my training there every evening. And eat breakfast there. With Bakura together. Then drive to the city to my work and meet Bakura there afterwards. Go together with him to the cinema or the bar. In Europe of course, Germany or maybe France, or Italy.

I get up and go downstairs to call Ishizu. She wrote me a lot of messages on Hangouts that I only saw now. She's worried because of the storm. It's near, I can feel it in my body. Maybe it's a thing that only Kentuckians can feel. I know it's closer than yesterday. It's coming.

Ishizu is glad that I call. Her school hasn't closed yet, but it will soon. The lectures are pretty much cancelled anyways, because more than half of the students and half of the teachers did not come. I listen to her, waiting for my turn to talk, noticing that all I wanna talk about is Bakura. I'm such a fool in love.

"...so I'm just gonna go back home," Ishizu finishes. "I shouldn't have come here."

"It's every year the same, isn't it?" I chuckle. "I don't really have access to a TV but I bet all the local channels get crazy about the storm. As if it's the first ever. It happens every single year!" Bakura has a TV but for as long as I'm here I have never seen him use it for anything else than his PlayStation.

"Well, it's still important to inform the people, Marik" Ishizu replies.

There's a pause, it's my turn to inform her about my personal news now. I breathe in and open my mouth.

Ishizu laughs. "Tell me about Bakura, yes. How is he?"

I close my mouth and pout, then bite on my lower lip. "Why do you-"

"You do want to give me the local news about him, don't you?"

"Gahh, yes!" I huff, feeling heat rising on my face. "We- We ate pizza together!" I grin. "I know it does not sound much, but we actually spend half the evening together, eating pizza. He's a bit friendlier now!"

"Aww, that is cute," she giggles.

"It's not," I moan, blushing more.

I tell her about the stereo and how I came up with the solution. That must be part of the reason he likes me a tiny bit more now, I guess. I do hope he finds me attractive as well. I mean, I am well trained and not ugly. Actually, I am pretty hot. Yeah, all the girls fall for me. And we would look good as a pair, standing aside. Me putting my head on his shoulder and he wrapping his arm around me-

What's with me today, I'm daydreaming so much!

I promise Ishizu to be careful and not to go out if I don't have to and she promises me the same. I ask her about Rishid and she tells me that he'll stay at work overnight. Kinda typical for an IT-guy. I can hear that Ishizu is smirking while she tells me that Dad did not approve of that, but Rishid did it anyways.

"He's stubborn when it comes to work," I smile. At least something. Our lives don't revolve around you, Dad.

Afterwards I put on a hoodie, it is cold. I'm just running around here in my underwear. I go upstairs and install the Facebook app because Ishizu mentioned something about a girl unfriending her on it, reminding me of the existence of that site. I'm gone for a month, my classmates are surely wondering where I am. I wonder if there are posts with my face been shared. Is my relationship status still the same? I wonder if I should change it to 'single'.

Poor Sarah, I haven't thought of her at all. Now that I have fallen in love with Bakura, I am ashamed of my need having to fake a relationship. I bet Sarah knows that our relationship was never real. I'm glad she never said anything about it. She could have easily mocked me in front of the others, like some of the girls or guys did in school to make their girl- or boyfriends do stuff for them. 'Aw, Sean never kisses me in school, but Bab's boyfriend does!' or similar. Must be hard to have a relationship in school.

And everybody's straight of course. We're thousand students at my school. If 10% are gay that must mean there are 99 other gay guys or girls at my school, plus all the bisexuals and pansexuals. But no one ever came out.

As the app is installed, my heartbeat increases. I put my data in and wait for it to load. I haven't been on it for over a month! How many private messages do I have? Ten? Twenty? More? The app is loading, slowly white and blue features appear, pictures and text. I stare at the right corner to find one single red box- Wait, what? That's it...? One? One message?

Okay, what was I expecting actually. Nobody liked me at my school. I touch it and the message opens. It's from Yuugi, written on the 29rd January 2015. Before I vanished.
'Hey sorry can you tell me what we had to do for chemistry class? I forgot to write it down'

That's it. That's all. One stupid message, and it's about chemistry class. Don't you wonder where I am, Yuugi? What about the others? Sarah? Oh yeah, Dad told the school he's homeschooling me, but still! Between my disappearance and Dad lying to the school a lot days have passed! But not even Yuugi wondered what happened to me!

And what about Sarah? I scroll around and find a text post of hers: /drinking warm cocoa under my blanket #blessed #lifeisgood #snowstorm/ No! Life isn't good when your boyfriend is missing! And what does this have to do with the storm? I tap her name and it loads her profile. She has changed her profile picture to her lying in her bikini in the sunshine. A picture of her last summer break. She was on some island in Europe.

I scroll down and read more posts. School is closed today, she writes. A picture of her cat making a derp face. More text posts. Five selfies of her in front of the mirror. A text post. A post of her window with the sun rising. This is all from today and it's only noon.

There, a text post from Micah from yesterday on her profile. It only says ';)', nothing more. Her female friends commented on it and 12 people liked it. What the- The comments don't really tell me more. There's a ':P', a 'lol' and a 'double score!'. There are more comments under the last one: 'It never was double okay'. Oh, that's from Sarah. What does it mean? Someone else wrote 'suuure' and Sarah replied: 'mind your own goddamn business'.

I lean back on my chair. Oh, I understand. Double score. Double score as in having two guys at the same time. I fucking knew there was something going on between Sarah and Micah. It does not bug me as much. I'm not jealous, far from it. I'm just sad she did not respect me enough and cheated on me. Not that there was anything between us, so was it cheating...? We both knew I wasn't invested in that relationship, so why did she kept me for so long?

Whatever. I go into the kitchen and eat some chicken salad for breakfast. Bleh. It's always the same. As I chew the stale meat, I hear noise from Bakura's room. I smile. The day is starting now for real. Can't wait to look into those angry eyes.

But it's Akefia who comes out of his room first. He locks himself in the bathroom, showering. Then Bakura gets out, coming barefoot to me. His face turns from bored to annoyed when he sees me. His hair is a mess, lots of strands sticking out as if it had been back-combed, reminding me of Cher's hair or the hair from The Nanny. He yawns loudly and sits on the other chair across of me.

He stares at me for a while, without saying a word. His eyes unfocus and fall close from time to time.

"Morning," I grin.

"Ugh, mornin'," he mutters, yawning some more. "Why you're awake, it's too early, I need a coffeeee!" he quickly pushes out in one breath and leans back, letting his head fall back.

I grin at him and stab a fork full of lettuce, putting it in my mouth. "You look as if your pillow exploded."

"You're not funny," he replies, yawning some more.

It's addicting. I gulp and hide my yawn behind a fist. "Stop that."

He chuckles and let's his head drop back, his eyes fixed on me. "How long has the old man been in there?"

I shrug. "Ten minutes."

"Kay. Need to shower too, before the blackout."

"You don't know if the power will fall out yet."

"It happens every year, it will happen today again."

I cannot really argue there, he's right. Back at home I would have went to Costco's with Rishid to fight with other people over the last can of dried fruit. As if the apocalypse was coming. It's just one storm for one day. Just stay at home at this day, you don't need to buy a year's supply of canned soup. And still we joined the hysteria, I don't even know why. Everybody else does, so we do too.

Bakura puts his arms on the table and his head on top of his arms and remains silent while I finish my food. I get up and clean the Tupperware and let it dry. Bakura looks so miserable, I want to do something for him. "Is there still coffee left?" I ask.

He shrugs.

I look into the cupboard. Yeah, a bit is left. I don't drink much coffee, but I learned the different ways of how to make it. I grab the electric kettle, fill it with water and turn it on. Then I scoop two spoons of the instant coffee into a mug. Ishizu drinks instant coffee too now and then, but most of the times she uses the Espresso machine. The one George Clooney advertises for. "You need sugar? Or milk?" I ask over the loud rattling of the kettle.

"Mm."

That does not tell me anything. I nudge Bakura and poke and he finally lifts his head. "Sugar? Milk?" I try again.

He gets up, and peers inside the cup. "Don't," he begins. "Just don't do stuff for me." He fills in a spoon of sugar. I sit down. The kettle is done and turns off with a click. He pours water in it and stirs it with a spoon.

I watch him take his seat. "Why not?"

He blows on his coffee. "It's annoying."

Akefia comes into the kitchen and we get out. There is no word of exchange. It's frightening. Not Akefia - although he is frightening as well - but the mere lack of interaction between father and son is frightening. How can a family grow so cold.

Bakura goes showering and I go into his room and turn on the stereo. I switch it to the radio and listen to the news broadcast. "...of a massive blizzard. From North-Carolina to New York, over Kentucky and Tennessee, we urge you to stay at home and do not go outside," A nasal voice says. "Do not drive if you don't necessary have to, do not go outside if you don't necessary have to."

By the time Bakura comes back the voice utters more warnings about the weather, talks about Trump and Sanders and oil prices. I lie on Bakura's bed, arms crossed under my head. "Hey," he says, tiptoeing into the room. "Guess you're gonna sleep here tonight again, dontcha." I glance to him. He's wet, his hair even thicker than before, his naked chest shining. He bends over and dries his hair with a towel, only making it worse.

"Don't you ever go to a hairdresser," I murmur and sit up.

"What?" he asks under the towel.

"I'm gonna go shower too," I say louder and leave the room. "If the power cuts out the water will be cold as well, right?"

"Yeah."

The bathroom is moist when I get in. You know what, I'm not gonna shower, I'm gonna draw me a bath! The kitchen door opens and Akefia goes into his room. A few minutes later he leaves the house. I only hear it because he slams the apartment door loudly. I go to Bakura's room; his door stands open wide. I ask him for new clothes. "Just take what you need," he mutters. He's standing before the stereo, holding half a dozen CD's in his hands. He wears a sleeveless shirt and shorts, still barefoot.

He always says that, yet when I 'just take what I need' he yells at me. So he does want me to ask every time. Which is fair, those are still his possessions. He wants me to be polite, I understand that.

As I watch the water streaming into the bathtub, I hear loud music emerging. It's as if Bakura celebrates that his father is gone. I go downstairs and collect the mails and letters. I have noticed that nobody else does this regularly. Akefia seems to grab his personal letters every day but he leaves everything else in until it bursts. There are tons of flyers and a letter which turns out to be just another ad.

Back in the bathroom, I undress and get into the hot water. Hah, it feels so good! I close my eyes and just lie there for a couple of minutes, listening to the occasional drop falling out of the tap into the water. Bakura's music got quieter. I kind of doze off. When I open my eyes again it's twelve minutes later.

"Marik!" Bakura yells.

"What?" I yell back.

"You're showering?"

"No, I'm taking a bath! Why?"

I hear his steps. Ah, I forgot to lock the door! I grab the edges of the tub, considering for a second if I should jump out and lock the door, but then he's already there. The door opens slowly, white hair coming first, then curious eyes. He cannot see my lower body from there, in that angle there's the tub between him and me. But if he came closer he could.

"Hey," he says slowly, his eyes going down, then up again. "Gonna take long?" I doubt he can see half my abs but his eyes still linger there for too long.

I turn towards him, put my arms on the edge of the bathtub and grin at him. "Why? Want me to stand up?"

He let's out a short laugh. "Pff, no! Just need to take a piss." He still stands there, letting all the warm air flow out. He's standing on one foot, swinging the other awkwardly back and forth, still staring. "Hurry up, kay?" Then he leaves me alone again.

I wash my hair, my body and rinse, pull the plug and put on my clothes. As the water begins to drain off, I hear a knock. "Done?" Bakura asks, already peeping in again.

"Argh, d'you really need to see me naked that bad?" I hiss and push the door close again. I'm haven't even dried myself off yet! He growls as answer. I put on underpants with my other hand, then grab the rest of the clothes and some towels and pull the door open. "Here, go!"

Again, he can't keep his eyes off of me. Thought I wasn't your type, eh Bakura? Or is it that you look at every guy? We're close, I walk out of the bathroom and he in, trying not to touch me, looking up into my eyes again, frowning while I grin.

I dry off in his room and put on a hoodie. I could chose what to wear and I chose the biggest hoodie I could find in his closet. It's purple with thick white laces, two sizes too wide and goes almost over my butt. I love it!

I sit down at Bakura's desk and listen more about the snow storm, no, it's a blizzard, says the radio DJ. The biggest blizzard since 1922! Heck, I hope Ishizu, Rishid and Dad will be fine! Can Rishid survive at his workplace if a power outage occurs? But then again it's an IT-building that surely have power backups and power backups for the power backups. Dad will stay at home, so Ishizu had to be the one to buy food and batteries.

Bakura is back and plugs in his phone and his laptop, then plops onto the bed. "How do you do that," he says slowly, while typing on his computer.

"What?" I turn around. The radio starts playing music.

"How do you keep your abs? Do you hit the gym before work?"

I flash a grin. "Hah, no, I just do a bit of work out."

"A bit of work out?" He looks up. "You're just muscles all over!" He blinks, his expression changing. "Hey, who gave you permission to take that hoodie?" He puts the computer off his lap and stands up.

"You did! Don't you remember? 'Just take what you need!'" I jeer, uttering the words in a deep voice, trying to mimic his.

He shows me his teeth. "What? Fuck you, Marik, that's my favorite one!" His voice increases in volume.

"Fine, I'll take it off then," I growl. I grab the back of the fabric and pull.

"No, forget it, you made it dirty already," he sighs.

"Dirty? What?" I pull the hoodie back down. "But I just took a bath, I'm not smelling or anything!" Now I got loud, because what the fuck! I'm not dirty, okay?!

"But you wore it, I don't want it anymore!"

"Okay! Then I'm gonna throw it in the washer and afterwards I'm gonna iron it! Is that clean enough for you?" I get up. What's your problem? Why can't you be a bit more relaxed, Bakura?!

"Goood, shut up, no need to make a fuss 'bout it," he mumbles and sits back down. "Keep it, wash it, whatever." He continues typing on his laptop with his lips pursed in discontent.

I'm standing and breathe out loud. You're the one making a fuss. Part of me wants to make peace and tell him I'm sorry for taking this sweatshirt in particular, but another part of me wants to take it off, wash it and iron it, just for the sake of it, so he can see how ridiculous he is! But I'm not gonna do that. I sigh and sit back down, watching him.

He's typing a lot and fast, sometimes he waits, then a new thunderstorm of key-hitting follows. His face is expressionless. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"Typing."

"I can see that, but what are you typing? A story?"

"A story?" He looks up, frowning. "No, I'm chatting."

"With whom? Your boyfriend?"

He rolls his eyes. "Boyfriend," he huffs and furrows his brows, as if the idea of being together with someone was ridiculous. He looks at me. "You're gonna be here all day again?"

"I never was a whole day with you in your room," I reply.

"But it feels like you're constantly here."

I shrug. You do know I have a crush on you, don't you? Is it that surprising that I want to spend as much time with you as possible?

We change places because Bakura wants to chat on his desk. I spread out on his bed and stretch myself until my bones make cracking sounds. Ahh. Then I turn around on my stomach and bury my face in his pillow. It smells like him. There's a long white hair on it. I grab it and examine it. It's completely white, no dark roots, not even a tiny bit of blonde in it.

"I do miss my weights though," I say.

Bakura's typing makes a break. "What?"

"My weights. For my work out. It's difficult to work on my biceps and triceps without them."

"Mh."

I am bored and Bakura is not listening but I feel the need to talk. I used to talk so much with Ishizu. Sometimes she would get me from school and we would talk on the way home and during the whole evening. For hours. She and me are talkative people, while Dad and Rishid can go days without saying as much as ten words.

Mom was talkative too, Rishid told me. She used to talk much to him and Ishizu. When Rishid was still the only child he always listened to her, wanting to make her happy. She was crying a lot, being depressed. But when she was talking, she smiled and was crying less. So Rishid let her talk and listened. Then Ishizu was born and Mom talked to her. Rishid was jealous as all children are, said Dad. He was only six years old then.

Four years later I came and killed Mom and Rishid talked even less. Ishizu did not understand what happened yet but Rishid took care of her, because Dad couldn't. It was as if her depression jumped over to him, stopping his mind, rendered him useless. Rishid took care of Ishizu and me.

Well, Dad did feed me and changed my diapers - he could not sleep much after Mom's death anyways. Having to take care of a baby actually helped him and made him less tired as if he had been laying only in his bed all the time. But during the day he just sat before the TV and it was Rishid who bathe me and played with me. As I grew, Dad took less and less care and Rishid took over, waking us up, bringing us to school, cooking food for us and so on.

Why am I thinking about the past? Just making myself sad.

"My girlfriend loved my biceps the most," I say.

Bakura stops typing again and turns his head to me. "Your what?" he laughs. "Your girlfriend?"

"I guess we're no longer together." I shrug.

"You don't have a girlfriend."

"Not anymore, no."

"But you never had one, did you?"

"I did! We kissed. ...sometimes."

"You had her so everybody would think you're straight or what?" He turns back to his computer and types more.

"Yeah, I guess. She just asked me one day if I wanted to be her boyfriend. Kind of just happened."

"But you never fucked her, did you?"

"No," I say, trying to imagine Sarah naked: Her nipples being hid under her long hair, small waist, then some hair down there I guess, or does she shave- Okay, why am I even thinking about her, gah. I only feel embarrassment upon seeing naked women. Not that I see a lot of them. But now and then you get exposed to them: Flashing ads on the internet or classmates in school showing other guys porn clips.

"You ever fucked?" Bakura asks.

"Um," I start, pondering whether or not to tell the truth. I glance at him, he's facing his screen.

He laughs. "That means no. Thought you looked like a virgin!"

"Hey, I'm only sixteen, shut up!" I growl, feeling my cheeks redden. It's perfectly okay to be a virgin with sixteen!

"So what, I'm sixteen too."

All the guys in my school already had sex, or at least so they said. When they asked if I banged Sarah yet - two days after we got together - I grinned and said 'sure' and they asked me how she's in bed. Luckily, before I had to answer, one guy said that she's surely a bomb in bed and that she looks as if she's loud, he loves it when they were loud. The topic shifted to what kind of girls they preferred in bed and I silently breathed out.

"Do you have," I begin, unsure how to phrase my question, "a lot of sex?"

Bakura turns around, stretching out his arm to me. "It's enough," he says nonchalant. "Gimme the phone."

"Give me the phone, please!" I say, but reach out and hand it over to him anyways.

"Thanks," he mumbles and turns away. He types on his phone, reads something on the screen and types more.

"You're talking to Zork?"

"No." He gets up and puts on a shirt, then another one, then jeans. Then his coat.

I sit up. "Where are you going? There's a blizzard outside!"

"Not yet." He wraps a scarf around his neck and goes to get his shoes.

"The shops gonna close soon."

"I know."

"Who are you meeting?"

"A guy." He sits on the bed and puts on his sneakers. His coat touches me.

I turn away, putting my arm under my head. If he's so against boyfriends, who is he meeting then? Another friend? "Joey?"

"What?"

"You're meeting Joey?"

"That's not his name, no."

Okay, whatever, I give up. "When are you gonna be back?"

"Soon. Don't want to hang around there during the storm."

"Hurry up then."

He gets up and opens the window. "Close the door, when Kefia comes, will you? He shouldn't see you hang around here, might think something false." Cold wind blows into my face and snow pours in, falling on the bed.

I turn on my back and sit up. "Huh, you're letting me stay here?"

He shrugs and puts one foot on the window sill. "You're gonna stay here whether or not I give you permission, won't you?"

I shake my head. "I won't if you really don't want me too."

He stares at me and breathes out through the nose. "No, it's fine, you can stay," he says and even gives me something like a grin. He climbs through the window; the fire escape making a sound when his feet hit it. "Don't lock this window, if you should leave, kay?"

"Okay!"

"Bye." He slides the window shut and turns around, speeding down.

I get up and turn on the stereo. What CD is inside? That Gravity one. I lie back on the bed and listen to it. The fourth song in particular kinda fits to my thoughts. '/You are, aaaare! You are, aaaare! You are, You're my first, you're my last, you're my first, you're my laaaaast!/' she yells. I wished Bakura would be my first and last. Where are you going, lover. Stay here. Stay with me.

I turn to my side and my hair falls into my face. I need to go to a hairdresser, it's been over a month. I usually go every month, one of the few things I enjoy to do with Dad. We both get our hair cut and afterwards we go and have lunch. I grab the back of my hair. I could actually make a tiny ponytail.

Kefia comes up the stairs and I close the door before he is inside the apartment.

It's three PM when the CD ends. Bakura is gone for almost an hour. The wind is still howling. I stare out of the window, seeing nothing but dark sky and white swirls of snow underneath. It's already dark. I turn on the lamp on the desk and grab a book from Bakura's book stack on the floor: Brave New World by Aldous Huxley.

I read for an hour. Now it's four PM and Bakura is still not back! I wonder if I turn on the TV, would it display the PlayStation's loading screen or would it show me some news? But I don't. I have Bakura figured out now. He does not has that much of a problem to let other people use his stuff, but you need to ask, be polite and patient. You have to give him some of your trust, and he'll appreciate that and trust you back.

I read for another half hour. The book is really good. I through half of it already. It helps me to keep my mind of Bakura.

Then, at a particular interesting part of the book, the light begins crackling and is gone within two seconds. I hear the fridge making a last buzzing sound, then it is silent as well. The TV's and the PlayStation's red stand-by lights turn off and the heater stops making his silent hissing sound.

Hello, power outage! I glance at the book page, squinting my eyes, but I cannot read the page number. I close the book and get up, stare out the window. Nothing but grayness and more grayness. Bakura, where the fuck are you?! I hope you're safe. I open the curtains wide. That little bit of the snow's light is better than nothing.

I go upstairs and get my blanket and my tablet. Dammit, I forgot to charge it. It still has 77% battery left tho. I return downstairs and hear the fire escape rattling. I open the window as my white-haired crush is near. He huffs and climbs through the window, having a bag over his shoulder. I close the window behind him.

He's all wet: His hair, his coat, everything has that light glint of wetness on it. I immediately notice the large bruise on his cheek, it's a new one. I keep track of his bruises now, knowing that former reddish and purple ones fade away to green and yellow eventually. This one is fresh and red. But Akefia is upstairs. They haven't met. So where does it come from?

He takes off the plastic bag and throws it on the bed, then takes of his coat. "Uh." His hair is still a mess. He sneezes a few times and cleans his nose with a kleenex and throws the tissue onto his desk.

"How did that happen?" I ask and point at his face.

"What?" He touches his cheek. "Oh, that." He shrugs and looks away. "I got milk and cereal, if ya hungry," he tells me, taking the bag.

I don't reply to that but grab his arm. "Bakura, did you got hit by something in the storm? Let me look at it-" But he shoves me away and goes to the kitchen.

"Don't touch me, goddammit."

"But you're injured!"

"You think I don't know that?" He opens the fridge and growls. "Power's out already?"

"Yeah."

I hear him storing the milk inside the fridge anyways and hiding the cereal box in the cupboard, along with a few other things, that I cannot see, because it's too dark. He comes back.

"Where did you got injured?"

He closes the room's door, then checks the heater. "We have to keep the window and door closed. Don't want to freeze tonight. You heard me?" He looks up.

I can't stand looking at his face and not knowing where the mark came from. Did he got into a fight? "Where do you have the food from?" I ask, because I remember the chaos that ensues where Rishid and I get our storm supplies from. Someone could have hit him while they fought for the cereal box.

He's standing before me while I sit on the bed. "You know," he begins, lifting his eyebrows up and pursing his lips, "there's a wonderful invention called Food City, where people can exchange money for food and clothing and-"

"Okay, shut up. I thought you may fought with someone in the supermarket. It used to happen to me and Rishid when we bought storm supplies but most of the times the people gave up when they saw me-" I trailed off and stop talking.

He rolls his eyes. "Oh yeah, cause you're so bulky and intimidating, aren't you." He grabs his laptop and lays down on the bed, his feet near me, his head away.

I'm not 'bulky'. I pout and crawl over to him. The shops must be closed by now. He was away for two and a half hours. He can't have spend all the time at Food City. I know where it is, it's not far. Even if he was slowed down due to the wind he wouldn't have needed over two hours to go there and come back, no.

He grunts as I sit next to him but let's me look at his laptop's screen, where Window 7 is starting. The screen's light illuminates the room. No more secret chatting now, huh? Oh, wait. Did he meet the guy with whom he was chatting before? Who was that and where did they meet and what did they-

Then it clicks. Didn't Jaden tell me that Bakura is promiscuous? I look up at him, study his face, imagining him kissing some guy he doesn't know. Closing his eyes as that guy's kisses go lower, both moaning. I turn my head away. No. That can't be true.

Window 7 has finished loading and Bakura types in his password, then pushing the computer further away on his lap. "This stupid thing is so slow," he moans. "Before it finally gonna load up, the battery will run out."

I fix my eyes on he bruise, now that there's more light falling on his face. It's not evenly shaped, it's more like a cut, but without the actual cut. Yeah, when I look closely at it I can see that the main part is a red line, as if he got hit with a whip, and around that line his skin swelled and became red.

"Okay, this is getting creepy," he comments and turns his head to me, sighing. "Stop thinking about that stupid bruise. It will go away."

"Yeah? When?" I ask, frowning. "It looks pretty bad."

"But it's not. It doesn't hurt."

"It looks like it hurts."

"But it doesn't!" he says, leaning in. "Stop it, okay?! You're getting on my nerves!"

"I'm just worrying! Shouldn't I be worried when you come back home all bruised?" I yell back.

He clenches his teeth. "Stop acting as if we're friends! No one told you to get worried about me!"

Akefia's door opens and we fall into silence. We're still glaring at each other. He's breathing through his nose, his huff getting more and more quieter. Kefia goes into the kitchen and Bakura turns his head to the door. We hear matches striking a few times, then a flame hissing. A bit of silence. Then it sounds as if Kefia is opening a cupboard. The lower one, near the door.

"Oh no, he doesn't!" Bakura says and hands me the laptop. He jumps out of the bed, opens the door and stomps to the kitchen. "Hey! Get your hands of my food!"

I get out of the bed as well and rush to the door. "You're gonna let your old father starve?" Akefia's voice is loud. A pause, then: "I do not remember hitting you there."

"Give me that!" Bakura yells, the pitch of his voice shaking. I'm in the hall now and see him snatching a can out of Kefia's hands, but the older man gives him a smack on his forehead.

"It's just one can, Bakura!"

The only light that makes things somewhat visible comes from a single candle flickering somewhere behind Akefia in the kitchen. It illuminates Bakura's face but leaves Akefia's dark with lots of shadows and no highlights.

"I don't care, it's my food, you can piss off!" Bakura takes a step back.

But then Akefia gets this look on his face, as if it turned to stone. His eyebrows are locked into place, his chin moves slightly up, tilting his head. He grabs Bakura by the arm and yanks him close, to give him a hard slap on his cheek. On his bruised cheek.

The sound echoes in my head as I hold my breath. I can feel my heart stop beating for a second. Oh no, you fucking didn't! "Stop it!" I shout, way too loud and way too whiny. "Stop hitting him!"

He either does not hear me or he doesn't care. I only need two seconds and two steps from my spot to theirs but by that time Akefia has slapped Bakura three times more. Bakura does not react in any way, he keeps his head steady while enduring the beating and does not even close his eyes but keeps staring into his father's face.

"Stop!" I shriek and push myself between them, grabbing Akefia's arm and pushing it to him, pushing him away. I cannot control my strength and so he actually has to take two steps back into the kitchen, so he won't fall backwards. "Why are you hitting your son?!" I yell at him, my hands turned to fists. I stand besides Bakura, who's staring at me.

"Marik," he says, huffing and staring at me, as if I was the one slapping him. His cheek is all red now, the color almost hiding his bruise.

And then Akefia lunges back, grabbing my arm. "Kid, do you want to sleep outside tonight?" he asks in a calm but loud voice, his face expressionless.

"No!" I pull my arm back and step away from him. "I want you to stop," I jump away once more, because he follows me in big steps, "hitting Bakura! He has not," again, I step away, "He doesn't deserve this!"

Bakura watches us for a bit, then goes into the kitchen and closes the door behind him. Gee, thanks for your support!

A bit of the candle's light still shines through the door's glass plate. I am careless for a moment and Kefia manages to grab my hoodie, and I pull back, but he is stronger. "You stay out of this," he breathes into my face, leaning down to me. I grab his arm, trying to make him let go of me. With an even weaker light, his features seem more threatening. On the other hand, he looks so much older so close up. "You will go upstairs now and stop bothering us."

"I didn't mean to push you so hard, I only wanted you to stop hitting him!" I say but he shakes his head and I stop talking.

"I don't care. You will go." He releases me from his grip and points at the door behind me. "Now."

"Okay!" I say, lifting my hands. I would like to take my blanket and tablet back upstairs, but I doubt he would let me. So I take a few steps backwards, then I open the apartment door and leave.

It is cold and pitch dark in the stair hall and I don't have my shoes on. But I don't have an option here, have I? Dammit, my room is surely cold, I never turned on the heater today. Hopefully I can return later to Bakura. I go upstairs and open the first door, tiptoe through the darkness and open my room. Yup, cold like a fridge in here. At least I've got this wonderful hoodie on me.

I hide under the remaining five blankets and tremble for a couple of minutes in fetal position, before it finally gets a bit warmer.

Is Bakura angry at me? I just tried to help. What, should I have just stand there and watched how he got slapped over and over again? On his hurt cheek, nonetheless. Don't you tell me that that didn't hurt!

I hear steps on the fire escape. Not loud, but definitely steps on the metal. Bakura? I make a hole in my blanket fort and yes! It is him! I jump out and slide the window open. The howling snow storm tumbles inside and I clench my teeth. "Bakura."

"Come back down," he utters under his scarf. "I've got cookies." His hair and the scarf's ends fly into all directions.

"Yes! Just," I turn around and scoop my blankets with my arms, "a second. Can you-"

"Yeah, yeah," Bakura interrupts me, taking the ball of blankets. He makes room for me as I follow with my pillow. Shit, I can't see a thing! I use the pillow as a shield and concentrate on my feet as we descend. The wind pushes me to one side of the stairs and I have trouble to walk straight. I'm afraid I might slip! The steps and the railing are thick with snow, I would have to guess where I can put my foot next, if it wasn't for Bakura's marks helping me. And the coldness! I haven't even yet mentioned how incredibly cold the wind is! It feels like sharp knives cutting my skin. And my feet feel like they've turned into blocks of ice.

I bump into Bakura as he stops. We're there. He opens the window and we drop inside. Hah. It smells a bit bad in here and it's dark, but it's warm! Bakura's heater was on half power before the outage came so it's still cozily warm in here. His laptop is still on, waiting on the desk.

He throws my blankets on the bed, then unwraps his head out of the scarf and tosses the scarf and the coat into a corner.

I throw myself on his bed in between my blankets and his and bury my face in my pillow. My socks are completely soaked from the snow. Bakura actually came to get me! I look up.

He sighs and shakes his head. "Don't do that ever again, okay."

"What?"

"Getting in between."

I lift my upper body up, stretching my arms straight. "But it's not right that he hits you!"

He takes a step back and snorts. "Really?" he says loudly. "And I thought it's the most wonderful thing!"

"I'm on your side here," I say. "I want to help you but you never let me. I should wash out your bruise and put some disinfection spray on it."

He snorts some more, shaking his head. "You're still not getting it, Marik, are you? You're not on my side, nobody is. I don't have a 'side'." He pronounces the word like it's something I made up. "We're not friends, okay?" I open my mouth but he lifts up his hand. "Yeah, I feed you and let you sleep on the mattress but that only shows that I am not a complete monster. I do have some empathy for you, that's true, but I don't like you. We're not friends. So stop getting into my business."

I can't hold this position any longer and turn around to sit on the bed. We're not friends? Forget it, Bakura, even if you don't like me, I still like you. And besides: "You're not a monster." I lift my gaze back at him. He looks away, his lips shut tight. No wonder he can't stand it when I take his stuff. Kefia takes away so much from him and gives him nothing in return. He does not know it any different.

"I'm gonna wash your face now." I say and stand up. Think before you act. But also: Less talking, more action.

"What?" He crosses his arms before his body and moves away. "Stop this shit, Marik!"

I pass him and unlock the door. I lean close to the gap and peek out. "Where is he?" I whisper.

Bakura steps to me. "If you leave this room now, I'm not gonna let you back in."

I lean back and look at him. "Okay. I'm gonna bang at the door until he comes out then."

He let's out a breath through his nose, looking annoyed. Good, this would work then. "What do you want to wash my face for anyways?" he starts, but I don't let myself being dragged into this distraction and just go out, hands forward. My socks are still super wet. I reach a wall and find the door to the bathroom. I wet a corner of a towel, before I get a better idea.

I take another, dry towel and sneak to the kitchen, fumbling for a bowl. I fill it half with water, then tiptoe back into the hall. I don't need to knock, Bakura opens the door for me.

Bakura stands in the middle of his room, arms close to his body, watching me with angry eyes. I put the bowl and towel down, and step to his wardrobe.

No, wait, wrong. "Bakura," I turn around to him. "Can I get a fresh pair of socks? Mine are com-"

"Yeah, sure," he says, blinking.

As I sit down on the bed and change my socks, he continues watching me. Does he want to throw me out again? Why did you came up and got me then for? Finally, he let's his shoulders drop, his arms hang and comes over to me. "You're hungry? I haven't eaten yet, so I'm gonna get the cereal."

"You didn't had any breakfast yet?" I look up at him. It's almost evening.

"Just had the coffee at noon." He shrugs.

"The guy you met didn't offer you anything?" I ask.

He grins. "You can't stop sticking your nose into my stuff, can you?"

I blush and turn my head away. "A bit dinner would be nice actually." Maybe he's right. I am too invested in him. Waiting for him to wake up so I can meet him in the kitchen or looking out of the window so I don't miss him when he gets back from school. Visiting him in my work break. He has an own life with school and friends - and other guys apparently. But I don't.

He points to the bowl on the floor. "Let's do this first, right?" He sighs. He's about to sit down onto the mess of my blankets, but jerks up in the last moment. "Ouch, what's this?" He pats the blankets, then puts his hand under them and retrieves the book - Brave New World - and holds it up, staring at it. His face darkens. "Marik!" he spats and throws the book on the bed.

Oh, shit. I never asked him if I may read it. "Bakura, sorry, I-"

"I just fucking told you not to get into my stuff! Didn't I? What did I just told you?!" He stretches his arms down, clenching his fists. "Why can't you ask first?! It's my stuff, not yours!" Here we go again! He's fuming, just like that. As if I just pressed a button.

I feel my cheek's getting red again, this time because of anger. But, no. I should calm down. Breathe in, breathe out. "I am sorry, Bakura. This was wrong of me. I couldn't help myself," I say calmly, not following him onto his level of volume. "It won't happen again, I promise." Talking in a soothing voice calms myself as well. I don't really feel sorry for taking the book, but I understand that he feels violated. It's his father he's angry at, not me.

Strangely, he instantly calms down. His fists open up and his face relaxes. He lift a hand and scratches his head. "Okay, fine! Just- Just ask the next time, okay?!" His voice shakes, the pitch of it changes.

"I will." I nod.

"I mean, you don't have to ask every time, but, ah-"

"It's okay, I will."

"I'm- I'm just..." He sits down next to me and puts his face in his hands. He's silent, I can't even hear him breathing. Outside, the world shouts in the darkness. A grey mess. "I don't know why I get angry so easily," he murmurs.

I place my hand on his shoulder. I try to think of something to say, but I don't get any better ideas than 'it's okay' or 'I understand'. So I just pat his shoulder a few times, then pull my hand back.

He let's his hands drop and looks at me. "Let's eat."

"No, wait!" I yank him back down, as he tries to get up. "First, I'm gonna wash your face-"

"Ugh, what for?" He sighs.

"You were okay with it just a moment ago!" I smile.

"Uhh. No. This is stupid!" He looks away.

"Just let me, please!" I pull at his arm.

"It's not bleeding or anything..."

"Just let me."

"Mm."

"Please."

He looks back. "Kay."

When I was little and played in the house and fell down or bumped into something, I cried even if the pain wasn't that big. Rishid or Ishizu came and cradled me. Rishid used to laugh at me and tickle me and naturally I would laugh back and forget about my scratched knee. When I got older Rishid was away a lot, either for school or work, so it was Ishizu's task to take care of my wounds.

It all began when I has a particularly bad injury. We had a malfunctioning cupboard in the kitchen; the door would always open up randomly, because the screws got loose or something. That cupboard was above the washing machine. And one day after I got a load out of the machine, I hit my forehead against the door's edge. The metallic edge. I hit it hard and felt a sharp pain run through my head. Felt blood running over my forehead.

Rishid was away, but Dad was near. He got all panicky and asked me repeatedly if I was okay, if I was okay, if I was okay - he got on my nerves! I wasn't panicked, but he wasn't helping at all, and made me nervous. Ishizu came upon hearing Dad and pulled me out of the kitchen and into the bathroom.

I had had a bad week. A classmate in school got suspicious because I had watched him for too long in the changing room, so the guys started to make gay jokes around me. Then I had written a C in a test (which is a nightmare for an A-grade student as me) and third: Dad had not given me the permission to go to a trip with my Badminton class.

I was on the edge of losing it and then I lost it; sitting on the stool in the bathroom, where my cry was echoing while Ishizu cleaned my wound with a wet towel. She did not say much, just a few 'shh's. I fell around her neck and she held me for a while. When I calmed down, she continued washing my face, telling me that everything would be good. I shouldn't worry, everything will change. The cold towel soothed my face as much as her voice. Everything will be okay. Ishizu is there. Even if the world goes down, Ishizu is there and so is Rishid and Dad too, even if he's difficult, he still loves me.

From then on, Ishizu would occasionally wash my face for no other reason than the one that I was upset. And it helped.

I let a corner of the towel getting soaked up in water. Bakura watches and seems annoyed but curious. He doesn't understand why I want to do this, and to be honest I am not sure myself. I know it calms me down. It's a loving act between my sister and me. Maybe it can help Bakura as well.

I wring out most of the water, then touch his chin, move his head so he faces me. His eyes move away, move up or down, but never in my direction. "It's cold," I say and he nods. I begin at his wound. He tenses up right before the towel touches him. But as I dab his cheek with it, he breathes out. I try not to wipe, only touch it lightly, making it wet. I wet the towel more, so much that the wet part of it is a big as my palm, and wring it out again.

The wound hasn't changed its color. I see now that the skin around the small cut is in fact red, making it appear bigger. He still hasn't told me where it comes from. I touch his forehead, lightly, so he can accustom to the coldness. He frowns and breathes in, making a smack with his lips. Yeah, play the annoyed one. But isn't it nice? Doesn't it feel good?

"Close your eyes," I say and he actually does it - after rolling them around as far as he can. I stroke his forehead and one side of his face, making his skin wet. Again and again for one side, then I change over to the other, then go down to his chin, further down around his jawline. And up again, more circles. I wet the towel some more and continue. Slow circles.

His breathing goes slower now, his frown is away. His lips aren't tight anymore, but actually lightly parted. A loud howl emerges from outside. He breathes through his mouth, as do I. His laptop makes a light buzzing sound now and then, reminding us of it's existence. In the computer's weak light, his hair looks more grey than white and his skin looks darker.

I remember his expression when Akefia slapped his face over and over again. No signs of emotion. Just staring. Not bending down. Being strong. But I'm sure he was crying inside.
Plus he also did not move away. He let Akefia hit him. He endured it, instead of turning around and going back into his room. Yeah, he actually started the fight. Over a can of soup. Why? Was it really that important?

I used a bit too much water and one drop runs over his cheek down to his chin. I catch it with the dry part of the towel. I am about to continue washing his face, when he clears his throat. It's enough, right? "What do you think of it?" he mutters. "The book. Brave New World?" He leaves his eyes closed.

"I'm not done reading it yet." I touch his cheek again and trace the towel around his jawline. "But it's amazing from the first page on."

"Give it back, when you're done, yeah? I want to read it again as well." He speaks slowly, not moving his lips much.

I can't suppress a smile. I'm cleaning his face for five minutes or more now, and he hasn't said stop yet. Does he actually like it? I'm proud of myself. I do think I am handling this good. I calmed him down. And he came upstairs and picked me up. So he does want to spend time with me, right?

Or did he only got me because Akefia threw me out? Did he got me back to defy his dad? To mock him?

I do a last swipe around his forehead, then let my hand drop into my lap. My arm hurts a bit from holding it up for so long. "Bakura, why did you come upstairs and got me?"

He opens his eyes, blinking a few times. He's unfocused and doesn't look at me. "Huh?" His gaze falls on me. "I-" He frowns. "Kefia does not have the right to send you away."

Kinda sounds like he only wanted to rebel. I look down. "Mm." But I know he still cares for me, even if he denies it! "So, where are the cookies?" I grin at him.

"You're done with my face?" He points at himself. "Am I pretty enough now?"

I chuckle. "Yeah, you're pretty."

He gets up, sighing. "Give me that," he says, grabbing the bowl and towel out of my hands. "D'you want some cereal as well, or only cookies?"

"Cereal too, please!"

We sit down on his bed with the head board as support for our backs. Bakura gives me a bowl and a spoon. He pours himself a good amount of what seem to be Froot Loops, then hands me the box. Ah, I'm mistaken, it's not the Froot Loops cereal, but a similar no-name product. We add milk, and Bakura puts both boxes next to him on the floor.

"Won't the milk go bad if we leave it here?" I ask.

He turns his head to me, chewing. "What do you suggest? Putting it in the non-functioning fridge?"

"Okay, you're right," I mumble. Back home, we would unfreeze the fridge prior to the annually snow storm and eat everything that would go bad. During the storm we would sit together around the table by candle light and eat canned food or cold soup. Afterwards we would shop big, to fill the fridge again.

Bakura pulls his computer on his lap and opens a folder named 'Sherlock'. "Wanna watch the first episode with me?" he asks.

"Sure!" I beam.

We chew and slurp the colored loops while watching the modern version of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. I'm surprised about how good it is. The dinner scene is the best! So much Ho Yay! Bakura chuckles as well at this scene, telling me this series is full of gay jokes. I'm hooked.

It's the first time I can relate to someone via my sexual orientation. At other times I had to watch the reaction of the others; would they be disgusted by the homoerotic, I would too. In front of Bakura I can openly chuckle at John's helplessness when it comes to Sherlock without hiding my true thoughts.

Each one of us finish three bowls of cereal - okay, two and a half because the milk ran out - and a whole box of chocolate cookies. Again, a no-name product. But it tastes just as good. I feel a bit bad for eating away Bakura's food. I want to pay him back. Yeah, as soon as I can I give him the money back.

The laptop is on my lap now; we take turns on who's holding it. But I am cold and tell Bakura to take it for a moment. I pull one of my blankets over my legs and he gives me the laptop back. The episode ends.

"I want to see the next one!" I say to Bakura, turning my head to him. "Can we see the next one?"

"Okay," he chuckles. "I do hope the battery will hold for so long."

"Oh." I check the battery's life. It's just enough for another episode: One and a half hour left. "It should."

He shrugs and nods at the same time. "Okay, then start it."

I do and lean back, pulling one of the pillows under my head. The room is starting to cool off. I'm not freezing, it's just a bit too cold for my taste. I lift the laptop with one hand and pull the blanket closer to my chin, accidentally brushing Bakura. He grunts and I mutter 'sorry'. The second episode is as interesting as the first. I just love the relationship between Sherlock and Watson.

I shift my position now and then during the episode. Bakura finally takes the laptop away from me and glares at me. "What's with you." He stops the movie and waits for me to finish fumbling with my blankets.

"It's getting cold," I explain.

"Get under my comforter then," Bakura says.

I look at him. "You're sure?"

He shrugs. "Eh."

He puts the laptop onto the floor. We collect the pillows and blankets, putting them under our heads and between the bed and the wall. I spread one of my blankets over his comforter, and get under it. It's chilly yet. Bakura mirrors me, putting his legs under the comforter as well. We don't touch, neither under nor above it. Only our knees collide shortly as he gets himself comfortable. "Sorry," he says. We continue watching.

I'm getting a bit sleepy. But it's only eight PM. Still seven hours until my usual sleeping time. But laying in a bed, watching movies always makes me sleepy. At the same time I am a bit excited, since I share one bed with Bakura. I lay sideways, with my arm under my head, turned towards Bakura. He's sitting upright, grinning now and then when something funny happens.

Near the end of the episode he's lying on his back, yawning. "I've got candy, if you want," he says.

"Shh!" I reply. I'm sitting upright, with hands on my knees. The ending is exciting and my eyes are glued to the screen. I notice that Bakura turns around but I don't look at him until the end of the movie. The ending music plays over the credits and I lean back. "Aw, I want to see the next one."

I glance at him and close the VLC player. "Mm. You can, but turn it down a bit, okay," he mutters. He's on his side, one hand near his face, the other under the blanket. His eyes are closed, his lips are slightly parted.

"You're gonna sleep?" I ask quietly.

"Uh, dunno," he slurs and turns around, pulling the blankets with his body.

I am sitting between him and the wall. What if he really falls asleep? What does he expect me to do? I surely have no problem to sleep with him in one bed, but maybe he does? He might be too tired to care now, but get pissed when he wakes up next to me. So I huff and say: "Bakura. Let me out first."

"Ngh," is his reply. "Jus' sleep."

I laugh with a tint despair in my voice. "You're sure?"

He takes a moment to reply. "Shh. Yes."

"You will be mad tomorrow morning."

Again, two seconds pass, before he answers. "Nah, I won't."

I sigh and try to figure out what to do. To stay or not to stay. Okay, let's make a compromise: I'll just climb out later. I am tired, but not enough to fall asleep. I will watch the third episode of Sherlock, then I'll go upstair- No, wait, my room is cold as ice. Gah, dammit! Maybe Bakura will wake up til then? Uhhh, what do I do? I let out a moan.

In the end, I start the third episode and hope that Bakura will wake up before I fall asleep. He just needs to get up and push the mattress out. No, I can do that, okay, there are a lot of blankets here tonight, but he just needs to get up for a minute and I'll manage.

I'm eight minutes into the episode, when Bakura suddenly turns around, lying on his back, eyes on me. "And why exactly did you wash my face?" His voice is clear again.

I stop the movie and open my mouth, leaving it like that for a second. "Because you were injured," I finally say.

Bakura sits up. One strain of his hair stands up and he scratches the same spot on his head. "Mh," he sounds, starring at the screen. "But it wasn't bleeding or anything. It was just a bit red."

I try to collect my thoughts. I did not think much about it, it simply felt like the right thing to do. I wanted to give him a bit comfort, a bit support. "He hit you on that cheek, despite having seen it," I mutter. "I know that the bruise itself isn't that bad. But your father-"

"Call him Akefia!" he says sharply.

"Right. Sorry. But Akefia is hurting your feelings. I-"

He chuckles loudly. "My feelings," he repeats.

"I just wanted to do something for you," I murmur. "To care for you, even when it was unnecessary for the bruise itself. To make you feel good. For the bruise in your soul, so to say." I feel his gaze on me. I'm facing the laptop yet, which turns its brightness down because the battery is running out.

I turn my head to Bakura, expecting a frown or a glare, but there is no expression on his face. He just looks at me and blinks. "Mmh." He blinks again and looks down at his lap, where his hands lie.

"And... did it help? How do you feel?"

He gulps. "I don't know. The cold water was nice though." I give him a smile and wait until he looks at me so he'll see it. His gaze falls down quickly again though and he let's out a groan. "I..." He never finds a second word for his sentence and let's the silence linger for a while between us.

The computer's screen darkens more and makes a beeping sound. A message pops up, stating that the laptop will shut down soon if it won't get plugged in. "Ahh, dammit, I wanted to see some more Sherlock," I moan.

"You can continue tomorrow," Bakura replies, yawning. He lays back on his side, his back turned to me.

"Bakura, don't you want me to get out of your bed?" I ask.

"Mhh, I'm too tired to get the mattress out," he grumbles. "You can sleep here tonight. Just don't touch me."

"Sure, but don't kick me out again in two hours," I say under my breath. The laptop's screen turns to black without any second warning. Suddenly we're in the dark. "Bakura." I take the computer and push at his shoulder. "Put the laptop down."

"Ngh." He grabs it without changing his position and bumps it onto the floor. A little bit too hard. Uh, I hope the thing is not broken now.

It's still super early, how can he be so tired? He was up at noon, like me, so he had been sleeping before, right? Guess it wasn't enough. It is a bit creepy how silent it is here. All those little electric sounds you're never aware of are missing. While outside the blizzard rages. It's as if the world doesn't exist anymore. It's only him and me now, in the warm bed.

I lie down, pulling the comforter up high over half my face. I turn around, away from Bakura. But as I do, I accidentally brush him and he grunts. Yeah yeah, no touching. "Good night," I mumble, not expecting an answer.

"Goo'nigh," he sighs, his voice fading. I grin. He's cute when he's sleepy. The covers are a bit too short, so I shift backwards, touch his back and jerk a bit forwards again. No grunting this time. His breathing got louder. It's not a snore yet, but you can tell that it's coming soon. I lean back again, my shoulder blades touch him and there's no complaint. I move more, until our backs touch. He's not that warm, but feeling his body rise against mine puts me at ease. He begins to breathe a little bit louder, on the edge of snoring. That comforts me, making me more sleepy.

I warm up and drift into sleep.

A/N: Thank you for your reviews! I inserted some more Sherlock for you, Kyla Bakura :P The song 'Back To Back' by Wolf Gang fits to the end of this chapter.