74 days after...

I could hear his footsteps coming in my direction, rather towards the kitchen, I stopped to see the entrance hoping to see him appear, when he appeared he looked at me quickly and left.

—Come in, I'm not completely naked.

—what are you doing?—He looked at me again, checking that I was wearing pants.

—I set out to find the cure for cancer...—I got back to mine and put more product on my hair.

I ignored his gesture of annoyance at my partner in the reflection of the mirror and concentrated on my hair. He continued on his way to the stove and put water in the kettle to boil. He sat by the mirror watching what he was doing to me while he waited for it to boil.

—I can dye your mohawk if you want.

—I like how it is.

look at his mohawk, he had some white streaks from the last time I cut him, and yes, it fit him well. I pulled my hair back and took off my gloves being careful not to stain anything. I put everything that had red dye in a bag and put it next to the garbage container, to throw it away later. I looked at my body for any red stains and was relieved not to find any because it was really annoying to remove paint. Rais instead served two cups of coffee and left one in my place, I sat back in the place and wrapped my hands in the warm ceramic. I looked at Rais when I noticed his gaze on my body, I looked at my body and saw him again.

—I have something?.

—Freckles?—He looked away at his mug.

—Lot...—I shrunk a bit somewhat uncomfortable—Do you want to connect the dots? I inform you that they come to nothing—He shook his head in denial, bringing the cups to his lips—I have them all over my body in case you wonder...

—No i don't wonder-

—Do you know where else?

—No, I am not interested in knowing.

You are embarrassed?

Are you uncomfortable talking about my body?

Or are you so conservative that you don't tolerate this kind of joke?

—Where were you born, Rais?—I forced myself to drink the coffee, giving him a truce.

—Tijuana—he blurted out without realizing that he said it.

Difficult place to talk about your penis with another man without fear of having your jaw broken...

—Did you come here just from Tijuana?—I was lucky, I was not going to let it slip away.

—No.

Well, at least I tried.

I looked at the clock on the wall and it had been half an hour, mostly in silence, since I put the dye on. I looked at the empty cup and walked over to the sink.

I took into account Rais's gaze on my back as I leaned over the water, "Yes, I also have freckles on my back, not seeing them doesn't mean they aren't there". I washed my hair watching the excess dye mix with the water, dyeing the entire flow until it was down the drain. A chill ran through my entire body when my mind compared to the memory of the shower after waking up from unconsciousness. "It is not blood, it is not blood".

I had never vomited coffee, maybe because I never drank it, but it was something I knew at the time that I didn't want to do it again.

—Zachary, are you okay?—He stood next to me sending my hair to the side placing a hand on my back. Why are you so warm?.

It is not blood, it is not blood, it is not blood, it is not blood, It's not blood, it's not blood, Zachary, it's not...

I nodded, washing my face with the water as I felt cold tears roll down my cheeks. I clung to him as soon as I took my composure, I couldn't even calm the trembling of my body, he just stood firm waiting for anything.

Are you really willing to save me?

How do you plan to save me from myself?

You don't know, do you?

But you will try it, won't you?

I try, i really try

Please don't stop trying

Tell me, did you expect this from me?

I guess not, because you backed off freeing yourself from my arms.

I saw fear in your eyes.

Did you think I was going to hurt you?

Why do you look like a scared dog?

—Sorry, it´s so... sorry—He tried to speak but his words seemed to tangle on his tongue.

—Why? forget it...—I looked at his light blue shirt and it had red drops on the fabric, my hair was dripping everywhere—What a mess I'm making ... but today it's your turn to clean up, so get started, I'm going to get the ink bath dirty.

I took the mirror from the island and took it to the bathroom, put my head under the shower this time closing my eyes. The water was ice cold but it helped me to clear my mind of my pathetic attempt to hug a stranger, WHAT A SHAME! Rejected by the other last survivor! Even though my love interests for Rais were dead from the moment I first lit my face... (really?)I did not expect such a strange reaction, I guess I would have preferred him to hit me than to look at me that way... I had seen that look several times, but in abandoned dogs and with a difficult past on the street, it was hard to see and not think "I want to take you home and make you forget about the person who hurt you" But that person is no longer there, nor anyone capable of doing such harm to him, and if he is in my house, the first dog that I bring home, although he carry my most of the way, but I am unable to do it, I cannot help him forget a terrible past when I can't get over mine.

Rais, you are not a dog, let me hug you.

Zachary, these scars come from hugging people.