✧ 62 ✧
Ilya lost himself in those pair of brown eyes a little too long. They were warm and charming. Billy was charming with his scars and tan. For a moment there, Ilya forgot that Beast and Billy shared the same body. Billy was so much different, the opposite of Beast.
Ilya's shoulders sagged. He finally calmed the hysteria that almost burst out of him and resumed playing the card game with his new friend. Even though they were twenty years apart, Ilya still found it within himself to relax around Billy. He even let out a genuine laugh.
In the middle of his turn, Billy stopped to look at the boy.
"I like you, kid." Billy sighed. "I wish I could keep you here forever."
That comment triggered Ilya. A shiver went down his spine. Red flags flared in his mind. He shuffled the cards in his hand and couldn't meet Billy's eyes.
Hot flashes, creased eyebrows, and tiny drops of sweat alerted Billy to the boy's distress.
"What's wrong?" Billy asked.
A moment of silence passed before Ilya could talk.
"It's just..." Ilya started, then stopped. "Nothing."
He moved his eyes away from his deck of cards, inspecting this room. He caught glimpses of the blood stains and the windowless walls. How sad and dim was Billy's life within these walls. How dangerous and ugly was Beast's lair, with a toy to play with now and then.
Panic stirred within him once more.
"Was it something I said?" Billy hastened.
The boy raised his head and caught Billy's eyes. Those eyes held a thousand questions, but Ilya's eyes held a thousand fears.
He swallowed before he asked, "When will I go home?"
Billy's heart stung. Taking the kid home so soon was never a part of his plan.
He enjoyed his company, even though all he ever did was save his life over and over again.
Still, having Ned—No, not Ned, but pretty much a clone of him—before his eyes, was a breath of fresh air.
And God only knows he needed that in a village full of mangled creatures.
However, he did promise to take him home. Still, he wanted to spend more time with him, maybe even convince him to stay... eventually.
"Soon," Billy said after a long pause. "When the snowstorm settles."
It was a lie. The blizzard had already passed. All that remained were towering piles of snow blanketing the ground.
Ilya felt something was off, but he covered up his unease with a fake little smile.
Billy returned the smile, but suddenly a burp found its way out of his mouth. He covered up and apologized, "Excuse me." He placed a hand on his belly. "My stomach feels funny." He chortled. "Must be all the food I ate back at Pig's."
Ilya lets out a soft chuckle.
They resumed their game. The score was now 2 to 2. Only one round left until the final result.
A noisy growl from Billy's abdomen surprised them. He touched it, and his face made a pained expression.
"Are you OK?" Ilya said, worried.
"Oh, that's not good." Billy's face turned yellow, but he still smiled and joked, "Don't worry. I'm not quitting, if that's what you're hoping."
"OK." Ilya smiled back. "Bring it."
The back-and-forth banter between the two helped Ilya relax.
For a moment, he almost forgot he was trapped in this place with a werewolf.
It felt good to let go of the worries that had been weighing on his chest for so long.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he almost remembered what it was like to be normal.
In the last round, Billy had the sum of 15, whereas Ilya had the sum of 17.
Billy got greedy and shouted playfully, "Ah, what the hell. Hit me!"
Ilya drew a card for Billy.
When Billy retrieved the card, he opened it and scowled.
He threw himself backwards onto the floor and let out a dramatic wail, "Noooo."
The card was the 9th of hearts. So, his sum became 24—an automatic loss.
Ilya laughed at the grown-up's reaction, but then he felt sorry for winning the cake all to himself, especially when Billy's stomach did the talking.
"You can stop whining," he said with a cute smile. "I'll share the cake with you."
"Really?"
Billy propped himself up, his face lighting up instantly. He wanted that cake so badly it showed on his twinkling brown eyes. But before he could thank the boy, his stomach growled again—louder this time. It was embarrassing, and he wasn't even that hungry.
Another stomach growl, then he farted.
It surprised Ilya and made him suppress a laugh. With puffed cheeks, he emitted a simple sound, "Pfft."
"I beg your pardon!" Billy apologized as he sat up awkwardly, eyes wide open.
But then his face paled, and the growling of his stomach did not stop.
Something was wrong.
Another fart escaped.
"Excuse me," Billy said as he rose to his feet in a hurry, clasping his abdomen.
Then he ran away towards the only bathroom in this hospital room, clinching his butt, but not before letting a few farts loose.
By now, Ilya was laughing so hard his eyes watered.
For a moment there, he felt safe. It has been a while since he had a good laugh.
He couldn't stop laughing, releasing that sweet melody that he had last had when he was chatting with his weird group of friends online—his best friend Kris with a K and his tomboy crush Dudess.
He stopped laughing and felt bad when he heard Billy gagging. Damn, he thought. Did he get food poisoning or something? Maybe it was all that junk food he had back at Pig's apartment.
The gagging stopped after a few minutes, and pure silence replaced it.
Ilya brushed his eyes and said, "Are you alright in there?"
Dreadful silence, followed by heavy breathing.
Ilya grew nervous, worried about Billy's fate after that episode of stomach growling and farting. He craned his neck from where he was sitting, hoping to take a glimpse of Billy through the open bathroom door.
A hand pressed against the doorframe, startling Ilya.
Billy walked two steps through the doorway with one hand pressed against his abdomen, each step lacking its usual strength. He stopped to gasp for air until he regained a bit of his color. He looked at the boy sitting on his bed.
"God damn! Mother fucker!" His voice was deep. "What kind of food did he make me eat last night?"
"Who?" Ilya was confused at first, but then he added, "You mean Pig?"
"No," he replied in a condescending, mocking tone. "Billy. What did he eat?"
"But..." Ilya's confusion returned when he heard Billy use the third-person point of view to refer to himself. "You're Billy..."
The man in front of Ilya started to laugh. At first, his shoulders shook without giving a sound. Then he released the most sinister half-suppressed laugh, losing his breath as his laugh intensified. He shook his head slowly with a sickening grin and a snicker that felt like it went on forever.
It went on for a while until he finally breathed.
He locked eyes with the boy and said, "Not anymore."
Yellow eyes!
Ilya felt nauseous and paralyzed. He dropped the cards from his hand and stared blankly at the card deck they were playing with. The tightness in his chest made it hard for him to breathe.
Billy was gone. Beast was back.