Page 33

Aoi

I dash to the kitchen and come face to face with Visha cleaning up a broken bowl.

“Sorry. Did I wake you?” he asks, fumbling with the shards. “I broke a bowl by accident but I’m cleaning it up right now. Don’t get close or you’ll cut yourself.”

As if that’d be new.

I join him and start picking up more broken fragments, gathering them in my free hand.

“It’s alright. I can do it.”

His overly independent attitude is starting to fucking annoy me. I just want him to rely on me more even if it’s just about a tiny silly thing.

I drop the broken pieces and grasp his hands instead. “Visha. Look at me for a second.”

He’s been avoiding my gaze since I waltzed into the kitchen and that’s highly suspicious. Usually, he welcomes me with a bright smile and asks if I slept well. As a matter of fact, he’d be already hugging me like a baby and drop anything to greet me. Yet all he does right now is avoid my gaze.

He flinches at the contact and pulls away.

“What’s wrong with you? Did something happen?” I worry, scanning his face for clues.

Visha goes back to picking up the pieces of the shattered bowl and cuts himself in the process. “Fuck. Aoi, just leave it, please. I can clean it up, just go.”

His tone is unusually tense. His shoulders slump and he can’t even look me in the eyes for more than ten seconds. Did something happen? He was fine yesterday though. Blood drips from his palm but he refuses to let me touch it.

I did find it strange how he was suddenly so affectionate but maybe he’s lonely? Maybe he went through a bad day and needed some comfort but if that’s the case why not simply talk to me about it? Am I so unreliable? I straighten up and make my way toward the cabinet in search of a plaster.

He can ignore his injury, but I won’t, so I grab the first plaster I find and kneel down next to him. “Give me your hand. Now.”

Visha hesitates so I grab it instead. He doesn’t fight back and obediently stays put as I strap the plaster over his cut. I can’t stop a sigh from escaping my lips which makes Visha look up at me nervously.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you can talk to me. You’re worrying me, Visha. You keep avoiding my gaze and now my touch? We both know that’s not like you.”

He looks down, visibly upset and agitated.

“If I made you think that I would judge you in any way, then I’m sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.”

He suddenly grasps my shoulders and shakes his head frantically. “You didn’t do anything wrong! You’re perfect. It’s me that’s in need of a massive slap across the face.”

“Why would you say that?! No matter what you did, you should never put yourself down like that!”

He sighs and looks down at his lap. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth.”

I bring my hair back then cup his cheek. “You don’t know me well if you think I’d ever see you in a bad light. You’re the most precious person in my life.”

He shakes his head, visibly not believing me.

“I would never judge you or be mad at you. It doesn’t matter what you do, okay?” I press a soothing kiss on his temple. “I’m always on your side.”

His gaze softens as he lets himself sink into my arms. “Promise it.”

“Promise what?”

“That you’ll always be on my side. That you’ll always love me no matter what.”

I kiss his nose and smile. “I promise. Now and forever.” His breath against my nape tickles and I giggle despite myself. “You’re such a big baby sometimes.”

He slowly detaches himself from me but lingers so closely that I can smell the faint fragrance of mint on his breath. His irises darken as his hands grasp mine and places them on his cheeks.

“I’m a man, Aoi. When will you start seeing me as one?”

I gawk at him, surprised by the way his voice subtly went down an octave. His gaze burns a hole through my face.

I suppose every teenager tries to appear older, but I thought only those that are treated like kids act that way. Maybe I have been babying him too much lately and he’s grown sick of it.

I laugh and squeeze his cheeks. “ I’m a man. You’re a teenager that wants to act like a grown man. Nuance.”

He heaves a sigh and lets go of my hands before getting up, leaving me on the floor. “Sometimes I wish you’d be less clueless,” he mumbles and walks away, closing the bedroom door behind him.

***

Less than an hour later we’re sitting on the couch, watching a movie with the curtains closed and chips resting in my lap. He keeps his distance and his fingers fidget in his lap. I don’t know what he’s so nervous about, but I can’t stand this tension anymore.

“Listen I’m sorry for earlier. Don’t avoid me and pout in your corner.” I lower the bowl of chips on the coffee table. “I didn’t mean to upset you. You know that, right?”

He peeks up from his fingers, taken aback. “I’m not upset. I’m just lost in thought.”

I don’t believe a single word. How can he sit there and claim he’s not upset as if that’s not a huge lie? Especially, when he’s massacring the corners of his fingertips like they’re on death row.

Didn’t we talk about how communication is key and that if he doesn’t tell me how he’s feeling I can’t read his freaking mind?

I reach for his hand. “Don’t hurt yourself. Tell me what’s wrong.”

He sucks in a shaky breath, biting his bottom lip. “I want to spend more time with you. I feel like I won’t get to do much with you anymore,” he says, his voice lacking his usual resolve.

“Why not? I’m always going to be there,” I comfort, tracing circles on the back of his hand.

He sits back in silence before turning his entire body toward me, giving me his full attention. “Always?”

“Always.”

Something’s been wrong with him since yesterday. I can’t figure out what and even if I ask, I know he’ll dodge the hell out of my questions. So instead, I do what he needs from me. I pull him into my arms and hug him as he always begs me to.

“Don’t think too much. Just live in the present.”

He wraps his arms around me and almost jumps on me, pushing me backwards. My back hits the couch as he stares at me from above with a bright smile. I scan his features one by one. His honey-like eyes are my favorite in the world. When he smiles, they crease at the corners and sunflowers bloom around his irises.

Has he ever had thoughts about his sexuality? I first started noticing my attraction to men when I was around his age, it could be that he’s already wondered about it. If he has questions, will he feel comfortable enough to ask me about it? Would it be weird if I bring up the subject with him?

I grunt, playfully pushing him. “Get off you’re heavy.”

“Don’t wanna,” he counters, snuggling into my chest.

I pat his head as I speak, “I have a somewhat weird question to ask.”

“Mhm?”

“Have you ever thought about your sexuality?”

He goes rigid instantly. After a few seconds of pure silence he nods against my chest, refusing to let me see his face.

“And what did you conclude? Not that you need to already have it all figured out. You have all the time in the world for that. I was just wondering if as a parent, I should touch on this subject with you at least once.”

I don’t expect him to know already. I’d be more surprised if at the age of fifteen, he’s already aware of exactly what he likes and doesn’t like and what kind of life he wants to live. These are too high expectations for anyone. Humans are ever-changing creatures after all. Even if he knows it all now, no one can predict whether he’ll still give the same answer in ten years.

“You won’t be grossed out, right?” he asks, slowly lifting himself up, yet still avoiding my gaze.

I grab his face, forcing him to look at me. “Who do you take me for? I’d never be grossed out by you.”

Visha leans into my touch, and I feel his cheeks heat up. “I think I like men,” he mumbles, his golden eyes darting from my face to the room. “Well, I like a man.”

My eyes widen as my lips form a straight line. I didn’t expect that , to be honest, but it’s fine either way. “Ah.”

“You think I’m gross. You do, oh my God I shouldn’t have said anything.” He gets off me as if I burned him.

I reach for his arm holding him close. “No! Of course not. Visha, I told you I wouldn’t think you’re gross. So, what if you like men? That’s okay you know.”

Is this the moment I come out to him? But I don’t want to. No one knows about me being gay, only Jason, and that’s how it should remain.

“I know that it’s okay, I know . I mean fundamentally I know that love is love but…I don’t want you to see me differently,” he confesses, averting his gaze at the closed curtains.

My heart clenches at the vulnerability he shows me with open arms. It’s more than I could hope for. I know how hard it is to come out and I basically forced him out of the closet.

Next time, shut the fuck up Aoi.

“You’ll always be the same sweet kid I brought home three years ago. That won’t ever change,” I assure, hoping to comfort him, but it seems to accomplish the opposite.

“I’m not a kid anymore. When will you stop treating me like one?!”

And here we go again with the same argument. “Christ Visha, what’s the problem with being called a kid? It’s not a crime, you know. Enjoy it while you still can. I’d kill to go back to being your age.”

He glares daggers at me and for a second, I think he’ll cuss me out or leave the room but instead he does the opposite.