Chapter 17: The echo of the dead

Lars POV:

I spent the night in Nate's arms. Not because I hadn't cleaned the guest rooms, no. I did that every Sunday. The whole process involved washing the linens, sweeping, dusting, and even cleaning the windows. Maybe it spoke volumes about how hopeful I was that I would get guests, but back then I just thought that I was keeping the house standing.

No, I spent the night in Nate's arms because his gaze was that of a hurt puppy. Not just hurt, but also abandoned on the side of the road by people, who once loved it and played with it. Gave it treats, took it on walks. 

That was how I explained Nate's heartbreak to myself. It was silly, yes, but I couldn't help it. So, after I gave him some of my pajamas, which were short at the ankles, and too big for him, I just snuggled into him.

He woke up a couple of times, I pretended to be dead asleep. I could still feel his lips on my skin, his hand through my hair. I wasn't the brightest child in the world, but those stolen touches spoke volumes. And I... wasn't even sure what I liked, much less what something like homosexuality meant for me.

No, the only thing I knew, was that Nate needed it that way. And since he did nothing more than kiss me on the forehead occasionally, or to pet me, I let it be.

For he always woke up with a gasp, and I knew that he just wanted to reassure himself, that I was still there. A rock in the abyss, so to speak.

The morning found us snuggled up. His hands in my hair, his lips on my forehead. I couldn't keep on pretending I was asleep anymore. Nature called to me, my entire body fought with the urge to spring out of bed and run to the bathroom.

The only thing stopping me was the fact that if I woke up at that moment, I would need to finally acknowledge the fact that Nate was allowing himself things, which no friend would have done.

I didn't want to lose him; he didn't want to stop.

It was becoming difficult to think...

"Lars?" Nate sounded unsure, but I kept on pretending to sleep. "I will make you breakfast. When you wake up, know I was there the entire night."

Soon I heard the door open and then close. My eyes snapped open. I had never run so fast. Maybe if Mr. Medon could see me at that moment, he would have given me an upgrade to the rank. Soon my pajama pants were down, and I closed my eyes in satisfaction.

As I finally relieved myself, my brain registered Nate's words. He wanted to assure me that he was by my side. As if I were the one who wanted comfort, and not he.

"Man..." I needed to speak with someone, but I didn't know with whom. Mike and Jean were my age, so, I didn't know if they could offer me profound wisdom. All of my relatives lived in the countryside. A family of agricultural specialists just couldn't thrive in the capitol.

Which left me just one option, honestly. I just didn't want to consider it.

There was this grandma who lived across the street. When one told her something, the entire capitol found out about it minutes later. She made the best chocolate chipped cookies in town. Well, maybe there was this café which made better cookies, but she gave me her cookies for free, which let them have a leg up on the competition. 

Anyway, granny Agatha had survived three husbands, four lovers, and one platonic partner. Had a cheeky sense of humor. If it wasn't for her tendencies to gossip, I would have gone to her without hesitation. 

The question was, could I figure out what Nate wanted from me myself, or do I bite the arrow and get advice from a woman whom most people called The Love Witch?

Quite the dilemma. 

I weighed the pros and cons, my stomach growled, begged me for a cookie with that silent growl, that I could understand even half-asleep.

The choice was made.

After a couple of minutes, to make myself presentable, I went downstairs. The kitchen smelled of eggs and cheese. My stomach growled once more.

"Lars, good morning," Nate wore my apron. The one which I had bought on a hunch. It was too big for him, just like the pajamas were. The text, "kiss the cook", didn't sound so funny to me, as it once had.

"Good morning, Nate! Thanks for the breakfast!" I noticed that there were already plates on the table. Nate pointed at a chair. As I sat myself down, I could only blink.

How did he arrange eggs, scrambled eggs, in a smiley face? I looked into the other plates, but no, there were no smiley faces there.

"Lars, I wanted to thank you," here he was, sounding calm, and I was panicking. Looking at the eggs so, as if they could eat me. I was not ready for this. Boys my age had crushes, yes, but I was fat. 

The thought that someone could like me romantically was so strange to me, like the idea that pigs could fly. Or that they could turn purple.

"No need," I didn't think, as I took my fork, and ruined the smiley face. Back then, I felt as if I had a piece of normality back in my life. 

I didn't dare look Nate in the eyes. Just inhaled the eggs, drank my milk, which I barely registered, and then stood up.

I needed to meet granny Agatha. Before things went out of hand. And if the entire Mirstone knew that a boy fancied me, then so be it.

"Did you... like the eggs?" Nate was looking me in the eyes, and I just nodded.

Romance was lost on me, but how could it not be? My stomach was upset. Butterflies, one might say. I just thought that there was something wrong with the eggs.

Denial, your name is Lars.