Page 60 of Fembot
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE_
WHAT THE FUCK?
Winston smelledlike three-day old sweat and misery. It wasn’t pretty. He knew he needed to start doing things like getting out of bed. And showering. And basically just functioning like a person again.
The look Lucky gave him when he was on his way out was almost enough to propel him into the shower. Then Winston had closed his eyes, just for a second, and the next thing he knew the blankets were being torn off him.
The sudden change in temperature shocked Winston into opening his eyes. He sat up and scrambled to try and grab the blanket, but a determined Novak yanked it away.
“Get your dirty ass out of bed, Winston. I love you, man, and I know you’re sad, but you’ve exceeded the amount of time you’re allowed to rot like a corpse in bed.”
“What the fuck, Novak?”
“I know you’re devastated, but you still have a boyfriend who needs you. Lucky is worried fucking sick about you, and so am I. At least have a fucking shower, okay?” Novak softened his tone of voice and his expression. “Please.”
Winston huffed as he flung his legs over the edge of the bed and got to his feet. He swayed a little at the sudden changein elevation. When was the last time he ate? Or drank? Or did anything besides be catastrophically miserable.
Tears made his eyes burn as he held them back.
“You go shower. I’ll take care of the bed. When you’re clean, you can get back in for a bit, okay?”
“Thanks, Novak. You’re a good friend.”
Novak rolled his eyes. “I know. Just don’t try and hug me, okay?”
He made a shooing motion with his hand, and Winston took the hint. He padded into the bathroom and shut the door. Part of him wanted to have a bath because then he wouldn’t have to stand, but he was pretty ripe and the idea of sitting in a tub of days’ worth of grime made his skin crawl off his bones.
He got the shower going and waited until the room was steamy and the mirrors were all fogged before he stripped out of his briefs and got in the shower. He hissed at the too-hot water then readjusted it to a temperature that wouldn’t cook him alive.
For the first several minutes of his shower, Winston didn’t move or wash or do anything but stand there and breathe. His mind felt like mush. He didn’t even know what day it was. What was the last thing he ate? When had he last gotten out of bed to do something besides take a piss?
This was worse than a breakup. When he and Lucky broke up before, that had been hard enough. But it had been mutual, and they’d still been friends, even when it was awkward and painful.
This was a death. Unexpected and unfair. And Winston wasn’t sure how to move on from that… or if he could. He had to find a way, though. For Lucky. For himself.
For Calvin, who’d walked away willingly so that no harm would come to him or Lucky.
Winston squeezed his eyes shut and pretended he wasn’t crying again. He ducked his head under the spray and soaked hishair. Let the water run down his face and wash the salt off his skin.
Behind him, the bathroom door creaked open. Lucky was back. Winston hadn’t expected him home so soon, but he knew Lucky was aware of how fragile he felt. Lucky’s presence had been the only thing holding him together.
Winston was aware of Lucky’s presence in the room, and he heard him step into the shower. He wasn’t ready to face him yet, though. Not after the mess he’d been the past few days. He kept his eyes closed and tipped his head forward so the water hit his shoulders.
“How did it go?”
Hands slipped over Winston’s hips. Familiar hands. Unexpected hands. His heart slammed into his ribcage so hard that he lost the ability to breathe.
Slowly, Winston turned. Afraid of what he would see.
Of what he wouldn’t.
When he’d turned around completely, he opened his eyes.
“How?” Winston’s voice wavered. “How are you here?”
He grabbed Calvin’s face in his hands to prove to himself that this was real. “What the fuck?”
“I have so much to tell you,” Calvin said, pulling Winston closer.
