Leopold opened his eyes to stare at a strange ceiling for the second time today. He blinked, stretched, and waited for his memory banks to wake up and tell him where he was. That's right, he was at Valeks. Where was Valek? Leopold sat up on the couch where he had fallen asleep and listened. Something was going on in the kitchen, and from the smells and humming that was coming through the door, Leopold could safely guess Valek was cooking in there. Leopold lay back down and turned to the large window facing the city and setting sun outside. Had Leopold really slept the whole day away? Valek must have worn him out more than Leopold realised. He sighed and put a hand to his forehead, rubbed his eyes. Had he really told Valek about his mother and father only hours ago? No, he couldn't have. Surely that had been a dream. But Leopold distinctly remember Valeks expression of shock and anger. Perfectly he remembered how Valek had tried to comfort him. Leopold didn't want to be comforted; he didn't want to be pitied. Pity never done anything for anyone. "God, why did I have to confess that to him!" Leopold wished he hadn't told Valek. Valek pitied him, he could see it in his eyes. Leopold didn't want his pity. Did he want his love? Leopold paused. What IS love? Certainly not what my mother feels for my father, that's devotion, and the other way around, it's need. And what I feel for them is hate and discust, so that's not love. Has anyone ever shown me love? Leopold stood and walked to the large window, looking out over the city below him. He wrapped his arms around his chest, still wearing nothing. Leopold spied the forgotten shirt cast to the floor some distance away. He looked back to the city. No one would see his nudeness from this height. Besides, the room was so dark. Leopold heard a frying pan hit the floor and Valek swore. Leopold closed his eyes and smiled. He pictured Valek in his mind, kneeling down to retreive the pan, looking it over to see if it got dirty on the floor, then using the pan anyways. Leopold chuckled. How normal all of this seemed, so comforting, almost familiar. That's crazy, this is only my second night with him. But it was true! Leopold already felt at home. Maybe it was just because Valek was trying so hard to make Leopold feel at home. The simple gesture pleased Leopold. No one had ever tried to make Leopold feel at home. He remembered the day he came back from boarding school, only a few weeks ago. He travelled by train, and his mother had forgotten to come get him. He sat in that abandoned station for hours. Finally he realised he'd been forgotten, picked up his many bags, and walked the several miles to his house. The first thing his mother said to him when he got there, the first words he'd heard her speak with her own voice in years, were "Wipe your feet! It's hard enough trying to keep this place clean without your tracking mud all over the parlour." She doesn't even lift a finger to clean that house, she hires a maid come clean it, so what would she know about it? And his father, that day his father had been one of his worst days. He didn't even recognise his son, and forcefully kicked him out into the street until his mother came and assured Mr. Faircloth that this was indeed his son. He'd been to drunk to realise that the years would have changed, aged his son. That dumb old goat. The wine has turned his braincells to mush. And mother! She's grown so bitter. Leopold forcefully wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands. I won't cry, I won't cry. I'm here now, and this moment is all that matters. Leopold turned from the window and walked to the kitchen door, leaned against the frame. Valek was cooking some sort of stir-fry. He looked up to Leopold and grinned sheepishly.
"If this isn't edible, we can always order out. It's been a while since I've cooked anything."
Leopold just smiled. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble, just for me."
Valek shook his head. "But I wanted to. Besides, a boys gotta eat, especially a recently drowned one."
"Ha, ha, stop, your killing me."
Valek chuckled. "Smart ass." Valek reached over and tickled Leopold's nude stomach. Leopold jerked away. "No fair!" Valek shrugged innocently. "Perfectly legal. If you want me to stop, go put something on. I want to ravish you, seeing you like that."
Leopold grinned. "Why not?"
Valek gave him a look. "And let my delicious dinner burn? Are you insane?"
It was Leopolds turn to shrug. "It's not my fault you can't keep your hormones under control." Valek reached to tickle Leopold again. Leopold jumped away. "Ok! Ok! I'm going!"
Leopold hummed to himself as he went back to Valek's bedroom and began to search through his drawers for something to wear. He stopped suddenly and stopped humming. He hadn't even realised how much privacy he was violating, going through Valek's personal things. I haven't even known him a month, so to speak, and this is my first "day" here. Why do I feel so at home here? Why does it feel like this is my home? I'm getting way to comfortable here... Leopold shook his head and refused to finesh the thought. He didn't want to think about how much it would hurt to leave this little sanctuary he had found in his cousin's home. Leopold didn't want to think about returning to his drunk father, and his enslaved mother, and the broken picture frames on the thier living room walls, and the soup thrown against the kitchen walls, and the nails Leopold has placed on his door, the ones he hammered into the door frame when his father was really drunk. It was the only way to keep him out. The man had broken the lock on the door years and years ago. Leopold shuddered and shoved the memories out of his head. He grabbed a pair of worn, faded looking jeans and a T-shirt. The shirt fit fairly well, but the pants sagged on Leopolds hips ridiculously. Leopold laughed at his reflection, but could not find a belt. Oh well, maybe Valek would like a good laugh.
Next page, Torn Apart