The silence continued well into the week. It was becoming strange. He felt increasingly guilty being near Gemma, and he was certain she could pick up on that sentiment. It made him regret ever getting involved with anyone.
This is what always happened; everything became complicated and previous actions took on a different meaning.
Didn't she find it odd that he used to be involved with her flatmate? Well, knowing Gemma, she probably didn't care that much. Nor was she entirely invested. They had agreed to keep things casual, but still he couldn't help but feel deeply wrong. Bakura was probably making himself overthink again.
He should have paid the damn fee and not let his overactive vengeance get the best of him. It was insane to seek out some mentally incapacitated foreigner.
On the other hand, he couldn't deny that his past relationships did show a tendency to stray away from normality. He was probably subconsciously searching for parts of himself in others. Instead of finding solace and comfort, he found barriers and the loneliness.
The entire week had been a blur; multiple conversations he couldn't remember having, but he knew they took place. Keeping up pretenses was becoming second nature again. He hadn't felt this disconnected from the world since he'd been a teenager. He'd even lost his motivation for delivering his sarcastic remarks. Well, most of them.
He was up earlier than the usual Saturdays, sitting on his sofa, staring at his coffee table. The only thing warming his hands was the coffee mug, contents left untouched. He'd dressed in a rather uninspiring outfit of faded grey jeans and a grey shirt that did little to deter the cold. He should throw on a jumper at some point.
The internal debate of whom to message first never ceased. He would have to end his avoidance eventually.
Today could wait a little longer because his brother was late, again, for his 'surprise', which Bakura was certain meant something bad for him. What could possibly require an in person visit so early on the weekend?
The longer he looked at his living room, the more he realised he hated taupe. Everything was so damn clean and sterile. He wondered if a fly would die from landing on the bleach coating the bathroom tiles. The only thing that appealed to him was the burgundy pillows. Shades of red weren't very calming though.
He checked his phone for the infinite time, hoping Marik had established contact first, but no such luck. With a groan, he stood and took a sip from his lukewarm coffee. He was going to drive himself crazy simply waiting around.
Approaching his bookshelf, he retrieved a novel and placed it into a different slot. That wasn't so hard. Order wasn't needed. The alphabet was overrated anyway. There was a knock on his door.
He took one hesitant step back from his bookshelf, staring at the gap formed between the books. Well, it did look strange now. I should probably put it back. He took a second step back upon hearing the subsequent knock and a rather odd scratching noise. In defeat, he returned the novel to its original place before Ryou could throw a fit over making him wait.
His brother was holding a large bag and donned a nervous expression. Something touched his foot. He jumped back in surprise and so did the clumsy puppy, nearly falling over.
"What the hell is that?" he exclaimed, staring at the unexpected canine visitor.
Ryou walked in and unclipped the lead, letting the small animal explore the entrance. It was black and tan, and a bit on the chubby side with barely pointed ears. "So, I got a pet and her name is Tarot. She's a Shiba," Ryou began explaining.
"Why?" He kept staring at the dog curiously sniffing around his shoes.
"Because I always wanted a dog," Ryou answered with an eye roll. Wanker.
"Why is it here?" The collar occasionally jingled, and he simply watched the puppy disappear behind his sofa.
"Well, there's this convention I want to attend, and my ride is leaving within the hour. I'll be staying overnight in Manchester and-"
"No," he cut off his brother's awful news.
"Please, Bakura."
"Absolutely not."
"She's quiet and well behaved, I swear and-" Ryou pleaded.
"Don't you have friends to watch her?" He gave his brother a stern look of disapproval over the entire affair.
"Well, they're going, too…and I trust you more!"
He didn't believe that for one second. "What about the goldfish incident?" By this point he'd forgotten to watch the dog exploring his flat and crossed his arms.
"I was just taking the piss," Ryou attempted to downplay his ten year rant.
"The answer is still no."
"Please, it's only for two nights! I'll pick her up Monday before you leave for work!" Ryou grabbed onto Bakura's shoulders and gave him a comical shake. It certainly solidified his theory that his brother regressed into childlike behaviour around him. Did he actually think that would work past the age of twelve? Yet here he was, a twenty-three year old grad student who whined to his big brother anytime he needed help. Lovely.
He brushed off his brother's insistent, annoying human contact. "What makes you think I don't already have plans?"
Ryou scoffed, "You hate people. What could you possibly be doing involving leaving your place?"
"Do you think insulting me is going to let your dog stay?" If they were still kids, that would have earned the bloody twat a punch on the arm.
In a desperate attempt, Ryou dropped the large bag he was carrying before declaring, "Everything is in there. I'm leaving now!"
"NO!" He was caught off guard.
He never expected his brother to do that! His slow physical response ended with the door being shut on his face. He knew chasing his irresponsible geek brother wouldn't stop the dog from staying over either, not without some long argument. He sighed and wondered just how much worse his day could get.
Turning around, he spotted the puppy staring at him with her head tilted in confusion. "Your owner is a prat and gave you a dumb name," he told the unsuspecting animal.
He bent down to rummage through Ryou's 'babysitting doggy bag' and found the food dishes, a few toys, her small bed and dog food. Amazing. I've become a sitter for a wanker I could snap in half. I hope his plants die this weekend.
He grabbed the dishes and made his way towards his kitchen. As he walked by the puppy, she gave a small bark. Quiet my ass. "Yes, I'm getting your food," he answered out loud. Why am I talking to it?
She followed him, constantly bumping into his heels until he had the water dish set down for her. As she was busy lapping it up, he filled the bottom of the food dish. He figured Ryou was probably overfeeding her, and considering he'd gotten no instructions, he'd have to research the rest himself. As soon as there was enough room to fit her head, she began crunching away at the food, her curled tail wagging funnily.
He made his way to his bedroom, where he last remembered leaving his laptop, and got under the duvet to keep warm. It wasn't the most ideal discovery on dog temperaments. Shibas behaved more like cats and could be difficult to train. It was also possessive and not the friendliest. Ryou was such a goddamn liar, but, of course, he wanted the Japanese breed.
He heard pattering traverse his carpet and saw a furry head peeking into his bedroom. Tarot held a short staring contest with him before she got bored and left to explore other parts of his flat.
It struck him that she would probably need to go to the bathroom soon, and he didn't want that happening anywhere inside his flat. Maybe a walk to Marik's not out of the way flat would be good. Whoever answered the door would be who he would deal with first. Yes, cutting off all ties was the best plan. Then he'd fuck over Declan, and live out a Dawn and Tim life…wait, no.
It seemed Tarot had the same idea in mind as she came back to his bedroom. This time she attempted to get his attention as she very badly missed hopping onto his bed. The paralegal stretched out and left the comfort of his sheets. He threw on a jumper, doing his best to ignore the incessant nudges at his heels before finally picking up the puppy.
She became still and looked at him oddly as he walked back towards the entrance. He put her down momentarily to throw on his jacket and slip on some shoes. He forgot to brush his hair. Oh well. Clipping on the lead, he picked up Tarot again who whined the entire lift ride down.
Once he was able to let her down on the pavement, her tail started wagging and they walked towards the tube station. He didn't exactly count on being stopped every ten seconds, nor the occasional attempt to rip off the lead, but they still made it…eventually.
He could tell the puppy was nervous from the way she kept looking at the overwhelming amount of people. I fucking swear, Ryou. He had to pick her up, yet again, and suppressed the displeased feeling of a wet nose occasionally brushing his neck. Luckily, she was small enough to hold with one arm, allowing him to manoeuvre around the station with relative ease.
By the time he was seated, Tarot was lying on his lap half-asleep. A child looked on with interest, but he ignored everyone around him. He kept petting her to keep her fairly relaxed on his longest tube ride ever.
After another stressed walk through the crowds, a few fights with the lead, and much muttering, he was finally in front of Marik's door. Tarot immediately started scratching at it impatiently. "Stop it," he scolded the puppy.
She looked up at him curiously, he was certain even defiantly too, and resumed her scratching. He raised his fist to give a knock when the door opened, revealing the one person that could never leave his mind. Until today.
Kohl rimmed lavender eyes widened, and for some reason, that made him quirk a smile. Bakura quickly wiped it off his face though, he didn't want Marik to believe he was happy to see him because that wasn't the case.
"So, you brought me a puppy as a means to forgiveness?" The rude blond he once knew was back.
"No, my idiot brother did. I'm watching it over the weekend. And, I'm not the one seeking forgiveness," he clarified.
"Such a shame, it's super cute," Marik's voice was laced with feigned regret. He bent down to pet the puppy. "What's it called?"
"Her name is Tarot," he answered.
Marik frowned. "Like the cards?"
"My brother is into weird shit." He noticed that Tarot was far happier to see Marik than she was around him. Traitor.
"Hey, I like the occult, too! It's interesting." The Egyptian shrugged.
"Is that what your bad makeup is about?" His smirk broke into a laugh upon seeing Marik's irritation.
"Shut up and come inside." The blond grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him in.
"Is Gemma home?" he couldn't help but ask.
"No. Did you come to see her?" the student replied.
"Not really," he admitted.
"Good." Marik sounded pleased. The paralegal wasn't expecting that answer.
In an instant, the blond was gently pushing him back until he was falling onto a sofa. Before he could make any protest, Marik was pinning him down, fingers gripping his hair, mouth moving against his own.
He betrayed so much of himself the moment he wrapped his arms around the student's waist, pulling him closer. This wasn't why he came here. It was to end all of this. He turned his head to the side in order to speak. Marik took it as a signal to trail his lips down his neck. "Marik, this is not-"
"Shut up," the blond whispered harshly.
He felt a hand move from his hair, towards the front of his jacket, slowly unbuttoning whatever it found. He closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in the feeling, remembering his unacknowledged preference for this. Marik was always good at ruining things though. "You'll never leave me again, will you now?" It was more of a command than question for reassurance.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a very unimpressed puppy. "Marik, get off me! The dog is watching and it's weird," Bakura snapped.
The blond leaned back on the paralegal's lap, looking disappointed himself. "Is that really bothering you?"
"I came here to talk." He attempted to sit up, but Marik was not moving from his spot.
Already, a tan thumb was stroking his cheek. "What about?" The blond sounded far too confident for his liking. Did Marik really think he'd come back for him?
"I don't want to do this anymore," he replied firmly. He wouldn't be swayed.
He could feel Marik's demeanor shift. He knew he was panicking by the way his voice lost its seductive tone and transformed into thinly veiled pleading. "You sure?" Marik tilted his head in concern.
"I want to be alone," Bakura confirmed. Lie.
"No, you don't," was the too quick reply from the blond.
"Yes, I do. I was better that way." He was resolute. He had to be.
"Don't say that." Marik's tone was soothing in his attempts to convince the older man. Instinctively, Bakura closed his eyes as lips would be pressing over his seconds later. It was much softer and less hurried than what had transpired minutes ago. Fuck.
"You don't want that, Bakura," was whispered to him.
"I do, you're terrible. You make me feel awful," he half-heartedly replied.
The blond shushed him and continued his conquest. After successfully peeling off his coat, Marik's hand was slipping beneath his layers of clothing and sliding up his back. The paralegal was being nudged in the right direction, and couldn't bring himself to stop any of it. As Marik lulled him with hypnotic ministrations, he found himself melting in his intentions. Until Tarot barked. He broke away from the student a second time. "I'm serious. We're done."
"No. We're not. I'm not letting you," the student desperately tried to remain composed, trying to salvage the little he achieved.
"Why not? We both know you withheld some information last time, and I don't trust you enough to actually leave her. In fact, I know you won't. So why should I stay?" Bakura countered, futilely.
Marik cast down his eyes, not answering any incriminating questions. It was starting to piss Bakura off. The nerve of that wanker. "You can't have everything you want. Not like this," he added coldly.
"Why not?" the student asked weakly, like a lost child.
Tarot gave a loud bark in that moment; they both turned to see her terrorizing Gemma's cat. Most people would call it playing though. "I should go," the paralegal spoke.
"We're not done, Bakura. You understand?" Marik's voice cut in sharply. He shook his head and pulled on his jacket. Marik would have to live with his decision.
"You never answered my question," the blond took a new direction.
"Hmm?" His back was to Marik as he bent down to pick up the fussy dog.
"Why not? Why can't I have you, too?" Despite how illogical the entire premise was, Marik appeared determined.
"Are you seriously telling me you don't understand such a simple concept? I can't believe I actually have to tell you why…"
The blond's resolved loosened as his words lost their meaning. "No. I mean yes. I don't know," Marik frantically said.
Bakura sighed and decided to make himself perfectly clear. "Because, if…someone is more invested than you, eventually they become a shell and disappear completely. Do you want that?"
"Are you more invested in me?" the student asked carefully.
"No, but I couldn't be even if I wanted to, Marik. That's why I don't want to try," he remained neutral in his delivery to the blond's chagrin. Tarot added an indignant bark to her squirming.
"We're not done and you know it." Marik tried anyway.
"I have to go now, Marik."
"I'll see you again." The Egyptian's lavender eyes hardened.
"No, you won't."
"Maybe tomorrow."
Bakura was stepping out the door. "You're in denial."
"I know where you live!"
Bakura was stretched out on his sofa, watching a movie with Ryou's puppy chewing on a toy nearby. He was just thankful it wasn't the squeaky kind.
He would not think of today. He would not think of Marik's weird impending threat. He would not think of that boy period.
His only concern right now was not letting Ryou's dog die like his last, prone to die, pet fish. Or Amane. What a morbid thought. Maybe Ryou is right, I should talk to people. Never.
The last person he tried to talk to, soberly, was an old mate from when he was a teenager in Paignton. He remembered that friend becoming distinctly uncomfortable. He also remembered enjoying the company of said mate more than a platonic friend should. Well. Maybe Marik wasn't his first gay thought after all.
He remembered getting into a few fist fights in school. He remembered sitting in the headmaster's office as his father shook his head, unsure of what to do with his disappointing son.
He remembered being fifteen and drinking by that godforsaken beach, under the piers with people who could care less about his past.
He remembered kicking Ryou's sand castle just to make Amane laugh. Then Ryou threw sand in his face, and Amane still laughed. It burned his eyes and probably didn't help his future vision. I was raising someone heartless.
He remembered the mandatory therapy sessions he was subject to after his mother's accident. And again, after Amane's death.
He remembered going to a gig and being passed these inconspicuous white pills of unknown origin. Everything merged into the smoothest black out he'd ever experienced. He was lucky he even made it to his bed, but still, he fell into the abyss laughing that night.
He remembered taking the fall for Ryou over a broken vase. He remembered the little prat abusing that favour in the near future.
He remembered the first time the world swayed beneath him. Or the subsequent times when he simply gave up and lied down, watching the hallucinations as his veins felt like they were on fire. Everyone in the room was debating on whether the lights should be kept on or off. He just didn't want his hand to melt off.
Between his childhood and consequential past, he couldn't decide which memories sounded better. It was incredibly sad considering neither memories were actually that positive. The film wasn't helping at all.
"Okay, bedtime, Tarot," he caught himself speaking aloud, one too many times. The puppy quirked her head up at him before returning to her toy. He'd left her bed in an obvious spot. She'd get the idea once the lights were off.
Flicking the light switch, he heard a scuffle and collar jingling. As he neared his bedroom, Tarot bumped into his heels again. No. A small whimper followed, making him want to shoot Ryou. When the bedside table lamp was on, she seemed fine again. However, she kept staring at him expectantly.
Bakura experimentally extinguished the light source. Instantly, the whining returned and an incessant pattering against his mattress could be heard as she failed to climb into bed. Fuck my life. He took off his glasses and put them aside with a loud groan. "I hate you and your bloody owner, too," he said, pulling her into bed with him.
He could see her exploring his bed curiously, a small shadow that sniffled loudly. Great. He laid back and waited for the annoying movements to stop. Dumb dog.
Upon finishing her mini-adventure, Tarot plopped herself down near his neck with a huff. It was as close as he'd get to cuddling the anti-social dog. That night, Bakura learned that puppies could snore.