Page 76 of Seth
“Left where?”
“To get the answer to this question, you should have wired his garden.”
CLANG.The piece of glass landed on the low table; Gustavo got up.
“Wow, someone’s in a mood. What is it? Did you finally realize you can’t satisfy him with your vanilla sex? Or did you get hard watching him fry this chicken and that bothers you now?” Diego’s face stretched, he yanked his hands away from the desk, fingers curling. “You didn’t wank here, did you?”
“Don’t be silly.” Gustavo scrunched his face.
“Then what is it?”
Gustavo didn’t answer because there was no way in the world he’d willingly admit that after seeing Seth’s shocked expression, after watching pain creeping into his features, he’d driven to his villa and spent hours looking for him in the night, in the rain, not knowing why. He felt like an idiot and didn’t know how to stop acting like one.
While watching Seth’s scene, he’d experienced all kinds of emotions, from initial rejection and concern to a strange fascination. When he watched Seth kneel before the boy to cool the burned area with his breath, his impression of Seth flipped once again. He didn’t know what to think about him anymore. Seth looked genuine in his care. Moreover, he looked as if he could never hurt the person in front of him.Then why did he kill Justin?
He shook his head, gaze falling upon his mud-covered shoes. A grape leaf stuck to the sole, and tiny pieces of debris clung to his socks. Gustavo closed his eyes as bile rushed up to his throat. His behavior was stupid, the obsession unwelcome and unhealthy. His life had turned into a laughable, pitiful existence of days spent in front of a screen watching a reality show starring a murderer. But the worst part was that he’d started humanizing Seth without having an ounce of understanding about what lurked behind his façade. He didn’t know anything about Seth, but his overcompensating imagination, was enough to leave Hans in the middle of the night and spend hours in a pointless search through Seth’s garden.
He opened his eyes to see Diego’s lopsided smile. “What are you going to do?”
“What am I going to do?” Gustavo echoed then got up. “I’m going to shower, have breakfast, and then I’ll join Hans in bed. I’ve been ignoring him way too much recently. You are welcome to stay if you want.”
“For your shower and vanilla sex with the Snow Queen?” Diego adopted an expression of exaggerated disgust. “Nah, I’ll pass.”
“For fuck’s sake, Diego, I meant breakfast.”
Diego grinned. “Oh, breakfast. I’ll stay.”
* * *
Seth walked allnight.After leaving through the garden, he blended with foliage and descended the hill through the forest before strolling down the Danube River. No one followed him today except a stinging swarm of confused thoughts and sharp, painful memories.
He couldn’t process the change. One moment Ignaz moaned, chasing his pleasure in his mouth, the next, he pushed Seth away.
He kept poking the swollen wound on the inner side of his cheek with his tongue, preventing it from closing. The taste of blood helped him to remember the danger hope carried.
I never should’ve brought him home or let him into my life. He is hollow. I knew it all along. He isn’t the one.
The rain started around midnight and lasted for hours. His soaked shoes squished with every step. His fingers were trembling, but he still didn’t want to return to his empty house as Ignaz wouldn’t be there.
When the sun climbed into the sky and the gray clouds dispersed, Seth turned back. His watch didn’t shut up, reminding him of his basic needs. With a deep sigh and a heavy heart, he entered his villa from the backdoor. His chest compressed as if the air here had different gravity and now crushed him from all directions. He stumbled through the mirrored corridor and entered the vast kitchen. It greeted him with a hush. Not surprised, Seth ascended to the living quarters, entered the master bathroom, and took a shower. He drank from the tap and relieved himself. When the number of notifications on his smartwatch reduced, he changed into his sleep attire and crawled into bed.
The urge to check the rest of the house, to search for small reminders left by his short-term guest, sparked in his blood. Every cell of his body howled from the need to feel Ignaz by his side. He didn’t move.
He isn’t the one. He never has been.
The blinding sun broke into his bedroom, dust sparkling in its intrusive rays. To hide from the brightness, Seth covered his eyes with his forearm, and the vivid images of the night Ignaz spent in his room invaded his mind. How the delicate body pressed against him, fitting perfectly. He remembered the soft hair brushing against his cheek and the faint smell of his shampoo. Seth’s imagination ran wild because he could hear quiet steps coming down the corridor and the low creak of the door opening.
He groaned, squeezing his eyelids harder to get rid of the illusion, but it didn’t disperse. The steps approached.
Seth’s throat closed; his heart sped up. He opened his eyes, and his gaze clashed with Ignaz’s red eyes. Seth turned his head away and hid in his forearm again, not knowing what to say.
The duvet tightened around his hips as Ignaz straddled him. Firm fingers cuffed his wrist, pulled it away from his face, and pinned it to the mattress.
This time, Seth didn’t avoid Ignaz’s gaze. Hope quivered in his chest, a tiny, weak hope that Ignaz would stay. A hope that it had been one giant misunderstanding. Swallowing against the lump in his throat, Seth spoke, sure his voice would be lost in the drumming of his heart, “You didn’t leave?”
“I promised to stay until your hand is healed.”
A small muscle beneath Seth’s eye twitched as bitterness surged into his mouth. He turned away, aiming to get up and leave. Ignaz leaned into him, grabbed his other forearm to pin it to the pillow above him.
