In the middle of his solitude, knocks fell upon his door.
One
Two
"Come in." he tried his best to mask any lingering pain deep within him and put on a guaranteed happy voice as he welcomed them, his expected visitors.
The door creaked open and the lad he'd been waiting for entered, with a little shadow hiding behind him. Spring-green eyes opened and focused on the one lying tangled beneath the sheets.
"Hi there..." he uttered the first word of greeting.
"Hey, when did you arrive? Have you gotten enough rest?" the patient asked and was worried more than the newcomer should be to him.
"Arrived this morning, about nine. Yes, I am fine except for a little jet lag." he smiled, showing slight dimples on his right cheek, the smile the patient surely had missed.
"You okay? You seem to be so sickly so lately. Are you sure you can still attend the World Cup Championships this coming year?" the white-skinned lad interrogated.
"Of course I can." he replied in an instant. He coughed yet again, but he tried his best to stifle it.
"I am expecting you there. Let me just check on your skills." his visitor grinned shortly as he stopped.
"Anyway..." he turned behind him. The patient seemed to notice the shadow lurking behind him as if he's scared of the daylghts.
"Come on, little fellow. Don't be shy." he teased.
"Hes a bit antisocial, but aside from that he's so meek and innocent." the newcomer brushed away blonde fringes away from his face as he reached out to the being behind him. Gently, he coaxed him to come out front and with one hand, he led the child into the light.
"Here he is, friend... the little child you've been supporting and raising with everything that you've been winning in gear fights."
Wide pools of mahogany-brown delicately and innocently stared up to his donor. For the ill guy, he seemed to be such an angel disguising to be a poor child clad in yellow sando, brown shorts, with tanned skin, black-brown kinky hair, and full dark lips. His heart almost jumped in hapiness to see how far his life had reached with the help of his support. He recalled that he once saw this child from Brazil, barely two months old, left out in the dumps and almost dying due to dysentry. Now he's here and living a comfortable life, thanks to his help. He had been receiving letters from him before, but it really felt very different to see the boy whom he had been toiling for right in front of his eyes.
"Come here, little Carlos. Let me have a good look at you."
As if their hearts had connected and their bloods rushed into one vein, the boy boldly stepped forward and sunk right within the pale and sickly boy's arms.
"Do you know who I am by the way?" he asked, testing if the child really knows the one responsible for his survival.
"Yu...Yuhya. Brother Yuhya!" those wide pools twinkled as soon as his lips finally uttered the name correctly.
"Yes, that's right!" the patient gushed... the patient named Yuhya.
"Hey, I think he had thought of you as a missonary of something." the boy still sank within his arms as if he's meant to be there. The visitor smiled over the how fatherly his friend looked.
"That's what I really want anyway." he paused as he collected his thoughts.
Thank you for bringing him here with you. Thank you for making me happy." the patient grinned with such charisma that one might wonder where he is getting all of it.
"Don't mention it. The idea just crossed my mind and I thought that it would make you happy... well, it did."
"Absolutely!" Yuhya gushed a little happier.
He felt a vein snap behind his neck. He just can't hide the pain anymore so he cowered.
"Brother Yuhya?" the kid's eyes lit up in horror as his donor collapsed back to his bed.
"Yuhya!" the blonde exclaimed as he saw his pained form.
"I... I'm okay..." he paused, his breath coming out shallowly.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"Yes..." he attempted to stand back up. Well, he did.
Then as if by reflex, Carlos hugged him again and snuggled closer this time.
"Brother Yuhya... don't let go. I need you."
"Harry..." the patient finally stated the visitor's name. The little boy lost hold. The blonde sat down beside him.
"Why, Yuhya?" he finally stated.
"Listen, I'm going to say this only now. I just know that you'll always be with me...."
"Huh? Just what are you talking about?" Harry was bewildered.
"You've been there for me all along. I sometimes... don't understand if you're really my rival but then.." he paused as he let in a choked breath.
"But then?" the listener expected to hear more.
And now, he had seen his smile, smile the way he used to do when he was still in his perfect condition and athletic stature.
"I... I just know that I love you now as a friend... very much. I don't know why but I really feel that I love you."
Emerald eyes shot open in question. It's something unexpected of him to say, yet he's yearning for it anyway.
He just felt his friend's cold hand lie on top of his. And with that, he just felt his face muscles twitch upward. He smiled.
"I..."
His mobile phone rang. He answered it, not letting go of the patient's hand.
"GOODNESS!" Harry exclaimed after hanging up the phone. "Listen Yuhya, but I think this is all the time we've got. You see, the department just want Carlos back..." He looked down at the child's form beneath Yuhya's now delicate form. He's as if listening to his heartbeats.
"Carlos, let's go." he gently pulled him away, and the kid's peaceful face was now wrecked into a violent and disturbed one. His hands still reached out to his so-called father, fumbling and stretching out.
"Yuhya!"
"Yuhya, I am so sorry..."
"I understand. It's just the way it should be..."
The two were of suitable distance already when the patient called out the blonde's name.
He turned.
He grant him the sweetest kind of smile that he could form with that condition.
"Goodbye, Harry. Take care."
The blonde also smiled back sweetly, but behind that smile and in those eyes, tears welled up. He finally closed the door.
He just watched as the door roughly closed behind them. And there he was, alone again. He just laid back on the mattress. That pretending seemed to have stressed him so much and even forced himself to look good before them even though he really wasn't those times. They have left, but the kid's phrase never left the now empty and eerily quiet room.
"Don't let go... I need you."
It reverberated even more, multiplying in number and amplitude. Now, he's hearing a thousand voices, requesting him to stay and to never leave their side.
"They want me here." He concluded.
Almost instantly, tears dripped down his eyes.
His nose bled profusely... he felt his system broke down.
And what made him cry even more was this certain fact that...
...he can't move his limbs anymore.