9. Hotaru
Every fiber of my being propels me toward Arlo. Like I’m a magnet, and he’s true north. I scoot closer, so he knows I’m here, but don’t place my hand on the back of his neck or graze my thumb over his wet cheek. He hasn’t said he doesn’t like to be touched, but I can tell by the way he holds himself so rigidly in the great hall or the hallways during class changes.
He avoids touch at all costs. But he touched me. A warmth settles over my chest, as though I’m the one with the comforter over my shoulders. He touched me to save me from his uncle. I fight the smile that tugs at my lips. It’s wholly inappropriate for the moment.
Arlo’s entire body shakes in quiet sobs. I let him cry it out. Shit, for what this guy has been through, he should never stop crying. He’s always so stoic and in control. I like control more than most, but I know he needs it more than I do.
I’ll give him mine.
Fuck, I’ll give him anything and everything, if it’s within my power. Which runs incongruous to my nature.
Slowly, his cries taper. His breaths gradually get longer and deeper, and then spread so far apart I know he’s fallen asleep. He feels safe enough to fall asleep next to me. Again, an inappropriate smile tugs at my lips.
My fingertips tingle at the thought of running them through his ruffled hair. My chest swells at the thought of bracing his back to my front and holding him close. My something else does a little swelling, but I force my thoughts away from how perfect he looks curled up on my bed.
I won’t betray his trust. Not ever.
Instead, I watch over him as the gloomy day turns to night, as my stomach growls, and the hours pass by. Somewhere along the way, I curl onto my side, tuck my arm under my head, and fight to keep my eyes open. It’s a futile effort.
When I wake, the overhead light is off, I’m snuggled under my comforter, and early morning light pours through my window. I flop onto my back and look down at my bed.
It’s empty.
I fight the disappointment that threatens to keep me tucked under these covers all weekend long. After all, what did I expect from a guy who has no one? Did I think I would be his compatriot because he cried himself to sleep in my bed?
The guy has hated me for the past twelve weeks.
He just needed a bit of relief. Now that he’s found it, he can go back to hating me.
It’s fine.
I groan, not believing myself.
Then I notice the bathroom door is open. Like way open. Like when he was in my room, and it was open for his escape, open. The door hasn’t been open unless I’ve been going in or out of it. Not for weeks. Not since he got here.
I stare at it as though one of the forty-seven portals from the Great Japanese Coastal Map opened in my room. As though Light Yagami, acting as Kira, will pop out of it at any moment. The longer I stare, the longer nothing happens, except my ballooning curiosity reaching bursting levels.
Throwing the cover back, I stretch. I grimace at the stupid uniform I’m still wearing. Jacket and all. With a disdaining shrug, I shuck it, toss it onto the cushy chair in the corner of my room, and then head for the bathroom.
My foot catches on something, and I trip over my fucking shoes like an infant who barely knows how to walk.
Baka!
I plow my hands through my hair and march toward the open door, mentally preparing myself for the door on the other side, the one to Arlo’s room, to be shut tight and telling myself not to care when it happens.
Then I reach the opening and reel back a step. The realm of another world is open and waiting for me. Using my knuckles, I wipe the sleep from my eyes, then look once more. It’s still open.
With tentative steps, I walk through the gateway.
My very own Guts from Berserk , the most tragically written hero from one of my favorite dark anime series, sits at his desk. He’s leaned over, writing like he’s on a deadline. Line after line pours out of him while I stand there in total shock.
He’s wearing a pair of school-issued navy trousers, though it’s not a school day, and a school-issued white T-shirt that pulls taut across the impressive V of his back.
“Morning,” I whisper when there’s a lull in his impressive pen strokes.
Arlo draws a deep breath that expands his considerable width, lets it out, and then turns to face me. The tiniest hint of a smile frames his lips. It’s not a smile really. But it’s not a frown or a scowl, and that’s progress.
His hair is neatly combed, but its length is so grown out over his ears that it looks roguish.
“Do you always sleep this late on the weekends?”
His voice is raspier this morning. I wonder if it’s from the crying he did. His words make me remember that I don’t usually see him over the weekends. He keeps to himself in his room, except for a couple of weeks ago.
“Not usually.” My gaze flits to his clock radio. 10:20. “Not that it’s afternoon or anything.”
“No, but…” He hesitates, and I’m greedy for the words he won’t say.
“Yes?”
His lips do a little dance swishing together from one side of his face to the other. It’s fucking cute.
I expect he’s feeling weird about sleeping in my bed most of the night. I open my lips to tell him it’s not a big deal when his lips part. I clamp mine shut.
“Will you go into town with me?”
That was unexpected. My mouth kind of gapes like a fish.
“I’d like to buy a computer. I notice you have a nice one, and you’re pretty good using it if you can get that stuff on there when no one else in this place can.” The apples of his cheeks go pink.
“That stuff?” I smirk at him.
“You know what I’m talking about.” He waves me off. “Anyway, I was wondering if you’d go help me pick one out. I had one back home, but my…” He swallows and straightens his shoulders. “My mom picked it out. I don’t even know what brand it was. I just used it. And I’d appreciate your help.” He gasps as though that’s as much as he’s spoken in a long time.
It’s the fastest he’s spoken and the most animated I’ve seen him.
“Sure,” I say, instead of what I want to say.
I’d love nothing more than to help you. It would bring me the greatest joy.
“Thanks.” He stands, and I’m stuck in the doorway, mesmerized by the way he moves to his bed and squats down. I try my best to avert my gaze from his full ass, but I am only human. A deviant one at that. “Here.” He tosses something.
I catch it and stare at a protein bar like it’s a gold bar he just gifted me.
“Eat that, and then grab a shower. We’ll head out whenever you’re ready.”
“Sure,” I say again. Suave for certain.
“I’ll finish this essay.” He points at the desk with nothing more than a history book, two sheets of paper, and a pen.
“On a Saturday?”
“Yeah. I’ll explain later.”
“Sure.” I nod.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
No, I’m trying to hide my excitement so I don’t freak you out. So I’m freaking you out in a different way.
“Absolutely.” I wave him off. “You?”
“Yep.” His gaze is narrowed on me like he doesn’t believe what I’ve said…with great cause.
I turn and close the door gently behind me in hopes that it will open again sometime. Leaning against the closed door, I practically inhale the protein bar, not caring at all that I’m inside the bathroom doing so. When it’s done, I take the quickest shower of my life and throw on casual clothes. I grab my wallet and holler through the vents.
“Ready.”
“Meet you in the hall,” he calls back, and I nearly jump up and down. I know it’s nothing to get excited about, but it’s progress. Huge progress for him, and it makes me fucking happy.
“Yep.” I’m out there before him, waiting like this is a date or something.
It’s not. You know it’s not.
He comes out and hesitates after locking his door.
“What is it?”
His gaze scans left and right, and then up and down the stairs near his door. No one is around, though we can hear people in the lobby. Students are always in the lobby.
“I’d rather not talk around other people,” he whispers. “I’m sorry, but it makes things easier.” His stunning brow furrows with a wince. “It might be awkward for you to be seen with me.”
“You think I give a fuck about what other people think?”
Besides, having this secret between us, makes it—our relationship—special.
He makes a noise. It’s not a laugh, but it’s the closest thing I’ve heard him make to one. It lights me up like a neon sign.
“No, I don’t suppose you do.”
“Damn right.” I lead us down the stairs like I did all those weeks ago. We walk through the quad and over to the shuttle bus stop, where it drops kids off and scoops them up every hour from nine to three o’clock on Saturdays.
We wait with a few other guys. The oldest of the group gives us a twice-over, but otherwise, the wait and subsequent twenty-minute trip are uneventful. Aside from a few sheep on the road.
Once we reach the stop, the group disperses. Everyone has their agenda for the day. Arlo takes off like he knows exactly where he’s going. It’s the opposite direction of everyone else.
I follow along only a half step behind him as we navigate the cobblestone streets of the town. It’s so small that it barely qualifies as one. I think it’s technically a village and not a town. There isn’t a proper city for fifty kilometers. London is even farther away. It’s worlds away from what I’m used to. Surprisingly, I don’t hate it as much as I thought I would. I guess it’s because of the guy next to me. It’s certainly not the sheep shit I have to dodge in the middle of the street.
He peels off the main thoroughfare, slips down a narrow alley, and then stops in front of a door that used to be white. Once upon a time, at the dawn of time.
When he reaches for the black knob, I hiss. “Are you looking to buy a computer or drugs?”
His wide shoulders wheel on me. His brows and mouth are screwed up tight. “I don’t do drugs. Never have. Never will.”
“Okay, and you think you’re going to find a computer in there?” I point at the tattered door.
“I know I will.” He turns back to the door.
“Okay. If someone offers me a dime bag for a BJ, I’m kicking their ass.”
He puts his hand on the knob but doesn’t turn it. Instead, he looks back over his shoulder at me. “Where’d you grow up that people are offering you drugs for sexual favors?”
“London.” I shrug. “No one has made the offer. I’m just saying, be prepared to run.”
“Don’t worry, Hota. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He winks and opens the door.
I’m too stunned to follow. Or maybe I’ve turned into a gooey marshmallow, stuck to the threshold. He called me by my name. He said he’d protect me.
Even if in jest, it’s a lot to process.
He holds the door open and waves me in. Behind him, I see shelves filled with boxes containing cords, mice, keyboards, adapters, modems, and routers. There are a few desktop models and a few laptops on display.
I step inside, and he closes the door behind me. He’s standing close. I have to shake myself to meet his gaze.
“Not so bad, huh?”
“I was born in Japan.” I don’t know why I blurt it, but it’s out in the air now. There’s no recalling it.
Then to my utter amazement, the corners of his harsh mouth turn up and the balls of his sharp cheeks contract in an almost smile. It’s the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen. Just like that cupid’s arrow pierces my rotten heart, and I’m completely fucked.