Page 72 of Caged In

“And you failed to listen.”

“Oh, I listened. I just don’t think they’re right about you. You don’t seem so bad . . . Don’t seem like you’ve done the things they say you have.”

I hope.

Although. If Sinn'ous has, at least Izz’s protected with the male right next to him. That’s if said male doesn’t decide to kill him first.

“I’d never hurt you,” Sinn'ous states.

Sinn'ous isn’t answering the question, but Izz will take it. And ignore the unspoken confirmation on the killing part. Sinn'ous isn’t denying the murder accusations . . . innocent people tend to protest against it, when accused of murder.

Izz’s surprised how easy it is to talk to Sinn'ous, considering the other inmate is said to be a serial killer. Considering Izz’s naked, right alongside the male leaning casually against the tiled wall.

He finds it comforting. Showering with Sinn'ous watching over him. He knows he shouldn’t. How naive it is. However, his nerves are easing and his breathing calming. His body is telling him this male is trustworthy.

Can he allow himself to trust his instincts? Or are they flawed and broken with the traumas he’s sufferedlocked up in this cage? A cage in which he is powerless, where he will be stuck for years to come.

Slapping the shower off, he pads his way over the tiles to get dressed. Sinn'ous trailing behind, which boosted his confidence. He feels untouchable. Because no other inmate will come within a mile of Sinn'ous so they steerclear of Izz by proximity.

It’s a rush. If Izz was a king, this is how he’d feel. Untouchable. Unstoppable. Invincible.Immortal.

Izz hides his little secret smile by pulling his grey shirt over his head, composing himself before emergingfrom the neck hole. He will never get use to the scratchy materials of the prison clothing. Plastic sandpaper, rubbing his shower-kissed skin the wrong way. He longs for the day he can choose what he wears—

It also wouldn’t hurt to shower in a place that doesn’t smell like a dozen rats died in it.

Sinn'ous walks Izz back to his cell. It’s a silent stroll, with his imagination running away from him. Almost as if they are two people coming home from a date night. It’s a weird thought to have, but his forbidden emotions make him feel like a giddy teenager sneaking home, desperate not to be caught by disapproving parents. The parents in this instance being his cellmate and very loud best friend.

Back in Izz’s cell, he throws the towel onto his bunk to fix later. Turning to face Sinn'ous who is waiting, toeing the line between in and out of the cell. So close Izz could touch . . . if he leaned forward a fraction . . .

Swallowing down the strange impulse to touch Sinn'ous, Izz shuffles his feet anxiously. Attention anywhere but on the other’s face. He’s nervous and does a terrible job to pretend otherwise.

“I’m ah . . . going to skip breakfast tomorrow to shower again . . . if you wanted to . . . do this again.”

And there you have it. Izz has officially asked a serial killer out on a date—of sorts. If only his mum could see him now. She’d slap him, not that she’s ever done that. Seeing her son with a serial killer, she’d lose it. Probably faint. Die. Come back to life to slap him again.

Sinn'ous smiles, a little upturning of his lips. Which manages to flutter Izz’s heart—definitely feeling the teenage first crushvibes. Sinn'ous nods—a barely noticeable dip to the chin. But it happened, Izz had seen it.

Is that a yes?

Before he can demand a verbal confirmation the male glides back down the metal stairs and off into the prison below, swallowed up by the sea of inmates. Leaving Izz wondering if the encounter actually occurred.

23

Izz hides out in his cell until lunch, replaying the encounter in the showers and what happened afterwards. And he is thankful for it, it keeps his mind off . . . other events he doesn’t want to think about, let alone reminisceover.

He is late to arrive at the cafeteria. Standing alone in line, and being served isn’t too bad. His mind consumed by thoughts of an inmate he shouldn’t be thinking about. He hardly notices anyone around him until he makes it to his table, joining The Gang in mid conversation.

“ . . . that’s nothing, hardly an adequate conquest,” Sinj laughs, slapping Erik on the back. “If anyone’s got some conquest stories, it’s Izz. Ain’t that right? Little buddy.”

Izz blinks at Sinj, he isn’t entirely sure what they’re talking about. Conquests? Conquests of what? And why is he part of the conversation?

Sinj grins. “I saw you and a certain . . .serial killer. . .moseying out of the showers this morning. You were quite cosy and shit.”

Izz flops down onto the awaiting bench. His entire body becoming a furnace under The Gang members’ curious and shocked expressions. And he had been worried about only Reni or Zidie catching him. Now the whole Gang knows.

It’s not as if he and Sinn'ous did anything. Or spoke much. Or touched. It was only . . . Izz doesn’t even know what. A friendly greeting? or . . . something else . . . ? A date—

Shut up about it, it wasn’t and never will be thatword.

---