13. Pepper #2
Noec winced just slightly, and that hand clenched into an unsteady fist as he leaned forward onto it. She watched him for a moment in silence, his eyes darting out and across the room at nothing. “Please…” he murmured in a low rasp. “Do you ever stop talking?”
Flora was stunned in place, glancing slowly at the empty corner of the dining room. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but no words came out as she looked back at him.
“Not… not you,” he said, glancing at Flora only briefly, his expression twisted with frustration and torment, as his eyes, bloodshot and dry, quickly darted away. He shook his head, fixing his frazzled gaze down to the table as his hands clenched in and out.
He was acting crazy.
And though he leaned away, Flora moved her chair closer to him. Flora searched his face, watching the confusion and distant anger that still simmered beneath the surface. Noec’s jade green eyes dilated and contracted in a familiar flutter that made her stomach twist.
He was acting like Perri.
“May I?” Flora asked, taking a napkin in her hand.
Unsure, he looked up to her, and the green and yellow of his irises shimmered, strange and serpentine.
But he nodded, his eyes widening as though he were trying to force a smile.
Carefully, Flora wiped the sweat from his brow as he closed his eyes.
As she pulled away, he reached after her hand, his cold and unsteady fingers loosely holding onto hers.
His welling eyes met hers, and Flora could do nothing but offer a faint, melancholy smile. This frustration, this agony—there was nothing she could do to save him from it.
Gently, Flora squeezed his hand. “You need a doctor, Noec.”
Noec’s composure cracked, his breath hitching as he barely held himself together. Through gritted teeth, he whispered, “My doctor is dead.”
After lunch, Noec again retired to Flora’s room to sleep off whatever nightmare had overtaken him. Mr. Fray came home from work early, still trying a little too hard not to seem scandalized by Noec’s presence. And by dinner time, Mrs. Fray had returned bearing takeout.
“Good afternoon, Noec,” Mrs. Fray said, setting her purse down as he emerged at the top of the stairs. “How’s that headache of yours?”
The sight of him still left Flora worried and unnerved, but the darkness around his eyes had receded. Donning Davy’s fuzzy socks, Noec’s feet slowly made their way down the stairs.
“Much better, Mrs. Fray,” he replied with a polite smile. “Thank you.”
“Oh, please. Call me Robin.”
Before long, Noec was laughing and chatting in the living room as though there wasn’t a worry in the world, but he carefully evaded Flora’s probing eyes.
Mr. Fray had dug up his dusty black radio, with a legendary CD inside titled “Wacky Wavy Inflatable Man”, named affectionately by Davy after Mr. Fray’s unique dance style.
“... and I’m sure you’ll love this one. You can send Flora back with it whenever you need a charge, and I’ll send a new CD if you need something new.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fray,” Noec said, but his fists had started balling, then unravelling in a restless rhythm. “I can’t wait to use it.”
Davy coughed loudly, staring daggers at his sister as their father continued rambling about his favorite music. Davy tilted his head and flicked his eyes at Noec’s hands, then back to her. Noec caught Flora’s gaze, and his friendly facade slipped just slightly, exposing a fearful glint in his eyes.
Mr. Fray continued clicking through songs, explaining the artist’s backstory to each song, the month and year it came out, and exactly what young Alan Fray was doing thirty plus years ago on the day he first heard it.
Mr. Fray wasn’t so outright about it, but much like Davy, there was nothing in the world he enjoyed more than a captive audience.
Noec, visibly growing more anxious, waited for a rare pause in Mr. Fray’s monologuing. “I’m so sorry,” he began timidly, “but would it be rude if I went to bed early? I’m still feeling… off.”
Mr. Fray blinked. “But…” Mr. Fray glanced at his phone. “It’s only?—”
Mrs. Fray cleared her throat. “No, of course it wouldn’t be rude,” she replied. “I’m sure your sleep schedule is all out of whack.” She turned to her husband, patted his leg, and assured him, “I’m sure he’ll visit again soon, honey.”
Mr. Fray leaned back and rested his arm on the back of the loveseat. “We’ll be looking forward to it,” he said.
Noec smiled, and the way his cheeks swelled meant it was a real smile. He shared a brief, uplifting look with Flora and rose to his feet, but she could see something in his composure beginning to unravel. “Goodnight,” he said. “Thank you all for such a nice evening.”
“So…” Mrs. Fray started slowly as they listened to him ascend the stairs. She raised her brows at Flora. “How was your day?”
Davy scoffed, and Flora muttered, “Peachy.”
Later, as Flora found herself drifting off on the couch, Davy glanced at her over the glow of the TV. “Try not to fall asleep without him, bean,” he warned. Flora grumbled incoherently, dragging herself to her feet. “Night,” he said, fixed ahead as she walked past.
“Night,” she sighed, wishing she could have a moment of peace before “tomorrow” would come.
Flora hovered at the bottom of the stairs, her heart sinking as she looked up. She wasn’t ready for whatever was waiting for her in that room.
Slowly, she ascended the stairs, her eyes heavy from both exhaustion and dried-up tears. Flora placed her hand on her bedroom door, breathed in, then breathed out.
“Just uh… scream or play the macarena to summon me.” Flora glanced back, and Davy was waiting protectively at the top of the stairs with a slight smirk. She offered a lazy thumbs up, then braced herself and opened the door.
What she found inside nearly took her breath away.
Her bed, which had been a mess of crumpled blankets and torn sheets, was now neatly made.
Flora stepped inside and ran her fingers along her desk.
Each crumpled fragment of Feya’s paintings was laid out on the desktop, pieced back together like a puzzle.
A glittering from the trash below caught her eye, and upon further inspection, it seemed as though Noec had plucked every microscopic piece of mirror from the floor.
Even the clothes that Noec had played no part in scattering across the floor were now neatly folded on her dresser.
He had clearly tried and given up on the desk chair, though.
Flora breathed a sigh of relief. Her gaze traveled to the far side of the room, where Noec lay curled up on his side, wrapped in a blanket he’d pulled from her basket of spares.
His chest rose and fell steadily, asleep.
Flora’s emotions remained a tangled mess of anger, fear, and heartbreak, but seeing him at peace, she felt a million times lighter. Quietly, she crept nearer.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and she meant it for so many things: for saving her, for putting up with her and her family’s hazing, and for the goddamn clothes that she didn’t want to fold. But most of all, she wanted to thank him for being here—for being alive.
His breath hitched, and his brow seemed to furrow. “Pixie,” he murmured softly.
Flora sank against the wall at his side. She said his name gently, but he arched into himself and grumbled, still mostly asleep.
Flora smiled at the simple sight of him. Reaching over, she brushed the hair from his brow. As her nails combed his hair, the crease in his brow gradually softened, and his breath drew calm and even once more.
After a few minutes, his head shifted just slightly. “Pixie…” he murmured, and Flora paused. “Are we still friends?”
Flora settled on the floor lying next to him, and she could see the worried glimmer of his eyes. “Noec,” she said gently, wrapping her pinkie around his as they shared a pillow. “You and I will always be friends.”