Page 22 of The Fabric of our Souls

He laughs as he turns on his treadmill. “Fuck, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

I take a few grounding breaths. “Lanston, right?”

He grins and nods. “Yeah, I’m surprised you remember. And I meant my question in a good way. I like your hair. I was curious, why pink?” Lanston sounds nervous and his cheeks are already bright red.

His black Under Armour shirt is tight against his sculpted chest. His gray sweatpants don’t leave much for the imagination either.

“Pink is my favorite color. I dyed it after I quit my corporate job, you know, just in defiance of it all.” I quirk a small smile at him.

Lanston laughs. The low rumble of it comforts me. He’s one of those people who radiates warmth. His smile makes you want to smile.

I wish I could be like that. I wish I could have that warmth.

“Well it looks really good on you.”

“Thanks,” I say as I return my eyes to the window overlooking the forest. The conversation behind us has ended but their words are heavy in my mind. What happened at Harlow Sanctum?

We walk in silence for several minutes before he starts up again. “Are you getting along with your roommate?”

I sigh and my brows pull together with frustration at the mere mention of Liam. “Not particularly, no.”

Lanston chuckles under his breath. “You know, I’m not surprised. Liam hated my guts when we first met too.”

I look at him with curiosity. Are they friends or something? I’m shocked, given how cold Liam is. Lanston is his stark opposite. “Are you a masochist too?” I ask. I can’t recall if he mentioned his illness in session yesterday.

“No, I used to be suicidal. I’d like to think I’m better now, but I still fall into that pit some days. You know?” His smile falters, vulnerability flickering across his eyes.

“Yeah, I do.” Lanston, he’s like me. A small light in this dark, lonely place.

I hesitate before deciding to open up a bit. Why is it that strangers are so easy to talk to? The lack of history, I suppose.

“Right now, I feel sane. I know that deep down, I don’t really want to die. I like looking outside at the clouds touching the trees. I like the crisp air in my lungs. I am content being here. But tonight, that could change. Tomorrow, it could change. There’s no telling what will trigger me. What will make me throw in the towel? IknowI’m sick. But in those dark moments… I can’t seem to think rationally. Not sane.”

He frowns and his hazel eyes watch me with deep sympathy. He murmurs, “I’m not sane either, Wynn. You’re not alone in this castle of tragedy.”

We look at each other for a few seconds.

“So Liam hated you?” I ask, not sure how Liam could get past Lanston’s illness. It seems to be the sole reason why he dislikes me so much.

“Yeah, that asshole would let me have it. He’d go on tangents on why I should cherish my life. How lucky I am to be able to feel emotions so entirely that I’m overcome with them.” He pauses when my expression turns to horror, and laughs, his perfect teeth showing and tugging on my heartstrings. “I know, a fucking monster, right? Well, I thought so too at first. But then I had a really bad mental slump.” His smile dims and his eyes grow distant with memory. “I tried to kill myself in the bathrooms. It was really early in the morning, so I didn’t think anyone would find me until after dawn. But the second my feet left the stool, Liam was already holding my legs, keeping the weight of my foolish act from killing me.”

Liam saved him… I wonder if it was by chance—if Liam was on one of his weird early-morning walks and just happened across him.

“And after that incident, we sort of became inseparable. We’d sit next to each other at meals and spend time hanging out. We even got matching tattoos.” Lanston pulls up his sleeve and reveals his tattoo, a Roman numeral II.

“So you’re saying he’s not a total dick?” I deadpan.

“Yeah, he has a hard exterior but he’s all mush on the inside. Don’t let his initial scary phase spook you.”

Jericho flicks the lights to get our attention and announces that the morning workout is over.

Lanston groans as he turns his machine off. “We hardly get enough time for the morning workout. Where are you heading next?” he asks before taking a swig of his water.

I grab my phone and check the schedule. “One on one with Dr. Prestin.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

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