Page 14 of Comforting the Grump

There was a beat of silence before I restarted the engine. The headlights cut through the night as we resumed our journey home, lost in our own tangled thoughts. The silence continued as we drove the last few minutes until the glow of my building came into view, casting shadows across Ennio’s face and highlighting the redness of his eyes. I parked in the garage under the building and shut off the engine.

I didn’t know why I got out first and opened Ennio’s door. I also had no clue why he waited for me to do it. Whatever.

We made our way to my condo, and I let us in. As soon as I closed the door behind us, Ennio leaned into me, his slim frame fitting awkwardly against my side. It was as if he were trying to fold himself into my shadow, seeking solace from whatever demons were chasing him.

I hesitated, unaccustomed to this level of physical intimacy. But seeing Ennio like this, raw and exposed, something shifted inside me. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. He nestled into my embrace, his body trembling slightly against mine.

“Ennio,” I said, unsure how to navigate this closeness, this tenderness that seemed so at odds with my usual demeanor. “I’ll help you figure this out, okay?”

Shit, what was I even saying?

But he nodded against my chest, his breath warm through the fabric of my shirt. I allowed myself to hold him, to offer the comfort he desperately sought. The weight of his trust settled in my chest, heavy and humbling.

“Let’s get some rest,” I said, my voice a whisper against the top of his head. “We can talk more tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he agreed, and I felt the subtle shift of his weight as he prepared to stand on his own again. But for now, he didn’t move, and neither did I. We remained in the hallway, holding each other.

We stayed locked in that embrace, time stretching out like the last note of a song. Ennio’s body was a tremulous chord against mine, and something in the resonance made my heart thrum in a way I hadn’t felt before. It was a dissonant harmony, this feeling of being someone’s protector and confidant, one I wasn’t sure I liked.

Finally, Ennio pulled back, and I let my arm fall away from him as if I’d been burned. Something about the moment felt dangerously close to blurring lines I’d drawn long ago.

“Goodnight, Marnin,” he said softly, his eyes lingering on mine a tad too long before he turned toward the guest bedroom.

“Night, Ennio.”

I watched him go, the sway of his hips unconsciously seductive, even in his vulnerable state. The door clicked shut behind him, and I was left alone with the echo of our encounter.

I sank onto the couch, running a hand through my hair. What the hell had happened? My mind replayed the scene, Ennio’s warmth against me, the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of sweat and club smoke from our earlier outing. I wasn’tone for physical affection, not usually, but holding Ennio hadn’t felt wrong. It had felt necessary, like stepping in front of a train to save a stranger, only the stranger was Ennio, and the train was an abusive nightmare dressed up as a romance.

A shift was happening, something seismic and unnerving. Ennio wasn’t just Auden’s brother or the flamboyant twink who always had more smile to give than the situation warranted. He was becoming someone I couldn’t categorize, couldn’t dismiss, and that scared the shit out of me. Ennio’s presence starkly contrasted my ordered life, his vibrancy throwing my world into vivid color when I’d gotten used to shades of gray.

Emotional vulnerability wasn’t my forte. I dealt in sarcasm and snark, not heart-to-heart confessions or midnight embraces. Yet here I was. How the hell did I navigate this new terrain, this absolute minefield, without blowing everything to hell?

Sleep was a long time coming, and when it finally did, it was fitful, full of dreams where Ennio’s laughter was a melody I couldn’t shake and his touch was the only thing that felt like home.

6

ENNIO

Cleaning had to be one of the most thankless jobs on the planet. No matter how well you cleaned something, it never lasted more than a day, and then it was already dirty again. It seemed to make so little sense. Well, other than my kitchen and the bathroom. The first was because my kitchen had to be spotless at home and on the job since I didn’t want to run any risk of spreading diseases. And my bathroom because showering or even peeing in a dirty bathroom was gross.

But my living room and my bedroom? Yeah, not so much. I’d gotten used to the thin layer of dust covering everything. I washed my sheets every week and vacuumed whenever things started crunching under my feet, but that was it. A few times a year, I got a cleaning urge and went through the house like a madman on a cleaning binge, and after that, everything settled again, including the dust.

Today was my day off, and I’d taken a hard look at my bedroom and decided that if I wanted to make a good impression on potential dates, I’d better get some cleaning done. The sheets were already in the washer. I’d dusted all the surfaces and hauled the vacuum up the stairs. Hmm, the curtains lookedsuper dusty. When was the last time I’d washed those? Had I even washed them before moving in here last year? I didn’t think so.

I’d just carried the little step stool to the bedroom when my phone dinged with a notification. My bank app, usually a bearer of benign balance updates, now screamed an urgent notification that jolted me like a splash of cold water.Your checking account is overdrawn.

I blinked at the screen, a frown etching across my face. How was that possible? Oh, wait. I’d treated myself to a new knife set, which hadn’t been cheap. That had to be it. The problem should be easy enough to solve. All I needed to do was transfer some money from my savings account. I had an automatic transfer set up from my checking into my savings, so there should be plenty of money there.

But when I checked the balance on my savings account, my blood ran cold. Balance under two thousand dollars? This had to be a mistake. I was impulsive with money, sure, but not downright reckless, and my savings account should have well over ten thousand in it.

I lowered myself onto the bed and looked at the last statements from my savings account. See, there was the monthly transfer from my checking into my savings. Three hundred dollars from my paycheck went straight into my savings. So where had that money gone?

There had been another transfer, but out of my savings account. Holy shit, five hundred dollars? What the hell was going on?

I’d better call the bank. A knot tightened in my chest as the line connected, the annoying hold music doing nothing to ease my growing anxiety.

“Good morning, Forestville Community Bank. How may I assist you today?” The woman’s voice, cheerful yet distant, crackled through the phone.

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