73 days after...

I didn't mention the puzzle, the lie, or anything about that day.

Everything continued with "normality".

We no longer went out, rather, we stayed in the area, to improve our surroundings.

I suppose that unconsciously we did not want to isolate each other again and being close was a crude attempt to avoid it

I was hand washing his black sweatshirt. I had already washed my colorful clothes, they lay flawlessly in the light of the faint rays of the sun. And I admit that seeing so much black, if it depresses me, especially, because at first, it was all like that.

—What happens to you now?.

I was startled when I heard his voice and his gaze went to my chin, it was not difficult to realize that he was crying again.

IS THIS DAMN EMO MY LIGHT OF HOPE IN THE DARK ?.

—Your clothes suck, it makes my eyes burn—his left corner lifted. I knew you didn't believe me. But he wasn't going to admit that his "dirty" clothes smelled good, just because he threw everything into the closet along with the empty chocolate or candy wrappers—Watch this—I spoke impatiently when I saw a sports pants, also black—Why does it have gum stuck to it? Don't throw everything in the closet to "tidy up", I'm the one who cleans.

—Do not do it.

—You are not a pig, and my house is not a pigsty, that we are stranded does not mean that we should be animals.

—Yes ma'am—He smiled at me in amusement and left before I could answer.

I just heard myself as my mother.

I smirked as I continued to wash the rest of the clothes.

I started to pick up the candy wrappers from the floor and put them in the bag, sorted the clean clothes, dusted the shelves, cleaned the windows, fixed the boxes, made the bed, and finished sweeping, leaving Rais's room spotless.

—I hope it lasts longer, Crestita...

—It will not.

It unnerved my skin to hear him behind me.

—Why are you so silent now?—I turned away seeing him enter the room.

—To scare you—He closed the curtains.

—You are bad.

—Yes, maybe you are right—he threw himself on the bed—Why do you call me "Crestita"?.

I left the room with no intention of answering. I continued sweeping the dirt down the hall, gathering my room.

Mrs. Smith, you were magical. How did you manage to clean everything up and look so neat afterwards? Even though you stole my mother's scented soaps, you were amazing.

After cleaning the house I was exhausted. I had the intention of taking a shower when I saw that the door of my parents' room was open. I approached the threshold seeing Rais sitting on the floor holding the leg of my parents' bed while he lifted the mattress, placing it in place. Did I feel ... invaded? I don't know, but it was strange to see him there, he didn't belong there, to my parents' resting place... Of course I had messed it up in my panic attack, I hadn't gone back in no matter how much I had to fix it.

—What are you doing?—He looked at me for a moment before continuing with his repair.

—What are you doing here?—my tone of voice became even different, he look at myself.

—I can not enter?—He left the mattress in its place and I noticed that not only had he arranged the bed, but also the closet and all the things in the room— You should have told me.

Can I set limits for you? Really, Rais?

—All riht, it's just ... Why did you fix everything?

He shrugged, wiping his hands from the dust with his gray pants, pants that I would have to wash later.

—"That we are stranded does not mean that we should be animals".

—Sorry.

—Why?

—I don't know, I don't know what to tell you ... it's strange, no-

—"Thanks"?.

—You're welcome ... Why did I say that? It's- thanks, thanks to you, I don't-

—Why are you so nervous?—began to get closer.

—You make me nervous.

—Why am I making you nervous?—stopped at a safe distance for my heart.

—You can't just do these things, you always take me by surprise... and I don't know how to respond to what you do...

I don't even know what the fuck I'm saying.

—You're right i should have asked—He was about to leave the room and I stopped him.

—But it's okay, I appreciate it a lot— ilook at my grip on his wrist, I couldn't look at his face when he was looking at me so closely—I regretted doing it too much that I felt-...—I was beating around the bush again— Thank you.

—No problem.

Why did everything sometimes seem so complicated and sometimes so simple? Why was he trying to complicate it, when everything was so simple?

I forgot about my fatigue during a time when I arranged the room as I remembered everything was, I knew it was not exactly the same and maybe it would never be that way again, but I tried.

I had ignored the whereabouts of Rais, although there were only two possibilities, inside the house or outside the house and at that moment I just wanted to believe that it was the latter... I had ignored the whereabouts of Rais, although there were only two possibilities, inside the house or outside the house and at that moment I just wanted to believe that it was the latter... his details were starting to get awkward in a way that I don't want to find out.

I turned off the tap and wrapped myself in a towel after a shower, I looked at myself in the mirror and despite having spent months I still remembered my face stained with blood. But I was too tired to get mad at anything in particular and I looked at the roots of my hair, they had an obvious size and did not match at all with the red dye, it was too late to go get a dye but at least would have something to do the next day.