Page 50 of Seth
Seth’s attention switched to the stove. Dipping a suspicious brow, he narrowed down the source of the smell. In the sizzling pan, a handful of green olives boasted brownish sides. Unable to hold back, Seth chuckled.
“I hate olives. I thought they might be better if fried?” Ignaz flushed. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You always look so serious and… kind of lonely.”
Seth cocked his head.The feeling is mutual.
Ignaz lifted his hand, and the belts dangled in front of his chest. Washed in the sun, dressed in white, he looked innocent. Seth wondered how such a person could become the most terrible pain addict.
Ignaz dropped his chin, obviously uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “It feels weird when you look at me like this.”
“Why?” Seth mouthed.
“Usually, I’m the one watching you. I thought you didn’t know I existed. I was always wondering why you never picked me, but I was too intimidated to ask. I always thought I’m your type, and that we are alike, or that’s what I heard. Why?”
Ignaz leveled Seth with a serious, questioning gaze that demanded an answer. Seth liked his honesty, his courage.
“I never realized you were looking. Until recently.”
Ignaz nodded, accepting the answer, then turned to the stove. He picked up a spatula and aimlessly rolled the darkening olives around.
To break the silence, Seth approached the tablet attached to the wall. He touched the screen and opened the food delivery app. “I don’t usually cook, so I don’t keep food here. Order whatever you like.”
“Order?” Ignaz gave a suspicious look to his cooking, then knitted his brows. “What about the olives?”
Seth smiled, genuine for the first time in months. “I’ll eat them.”
* * *
The day went by;not a single thought about Justin visited Seth’s mind. For the first time in months, he enjoyed food. It’d been a while since he managed to eat something other than olives or protein drinks, not to mention actually savoring textures and flavors. With Ignaz by his side, the routine process of forcing down food turned into pleasant entertainment as the boy ate with appreciation and enthusiasm. He cleaned his plates like fire consumed wood, awaking in Seth similar appetites.
The whole day Seth spent in his studio, drafting. The stolen painting migrated from his drafting board to the basement room where it was dark, dry, and cold. Ignaz quietly lounged on the wide windowsill as he went through the library. They barely talked, yet the quiet time filled Seth’s soul with serenity. When the boy agreed to change into clean clothes, possessive instincts stirred in Seth’s heart. A part of him felt as if Ignaz had always belonged to him, had always meant to be here with him. Seth couldn’t explain the origins of this haunting feeling. Ignaz wasn’t the one. Yet, by the end of the first day, Seth’s needs drifted to the back of his consciousness as Ignaz occupied his every thought. Being around him felt natural.
At dusk, Ignaz grew restless. His agitation resounded in Seth’s blood, more powerful with every passing minute. His stares chaffed Seth’s skin, but whenever he looked up, the boy averted his eyes.
Familiar irritation settled in Seth’s fingers and crawled up his arms. Once again, Ignaz avoided his gaze. His cheek jerked, he breathed the words out, “You should sleep.”
Blond head whipped toward him as Ignaz sized him up. “Don’t you want to…”
Seth tilted his head, wondering if Ignaz needed to take the edge off or, for some reason, he felt obligated to fulfill Seth’s desires. Under his scrutiny, Ignaz wrung his hands, looked around, then licked his lips.
Tonight, Seth didn’t have the urge. He wanted the evening to last forever in this slow pace. He wished to stay with Ignaz longer, listen to his quiet footfalls and rustles of his clothes. But it wasn’t about him anymore, so he said, “I’m good, but tell me what you want.”
A sigh of relief broke out of Ignaz’s chest. “Thank God. I’m so sore; I don’t think I would be able to do much anyway.” A blinding smile lit up his face when he asked, “Can we order a pizza and, maybe, watch something?”
Dropping a pencil, Seth pushed away from the drafting desk. “Sure.”
Seth didn’t remember much of the movie. He failed to get invested in it, but the glowing eyes, parted lips, and the fingers smeared in cheese fat and holding a piece of cold pizza forever etched in his memory. When Ignaz fell asleep on the sofa in the living room, Seth threw out the leftovers, turned the TV off, and carried the boy to the spare bedroom.
He stopped asking himself “why”. The reasons stopped mattering, as Ignaz’s presence pushed away memories of Justin.
That night he dreamed about the desert. It was calm, and even the high dunes that had always attempted to trip his hooves flattened. The desert lay still and silent as if frozen in anticipation. In his dream, he walked for hours, following one direction, and not even once did he glance back at SkyBlade fading behind his back.
When he woke up, he knew things were about to change.
* * *
The next morningwashed Seth in a sobering reality. Ignaz sat in the kitchen; his club clothes rested on the stool next to him. Upon noticing Seth, his face strained, and he managed a small smile.
“Leaving?” Seth’s voice almost got lost in the oppressive silence. Ignaz nodded, and just like that, the days filled with light submerged in darkness. Seth didn’t know what he expected, but the thought that Ignaz could leave never crossed his mind.
