Licking Wounds

Without much resistance, almost automatically, Rava told Hades everything he wanted to know. The address. The new number. Where he worked now. What was his account number. No attempt to lie or hide anything - he just spilled it all without blinking. He knew that refusing would only drag out the process. And perhaps provoke another fit of rage. And he didn't want any more pain. Not today. He was tired. His skin was stretched like film, and any word, any movement could tear it.

"I need to save up again," the thought flashed, almost instinctively. At least something. At least run away somewhere as soon as possible. But not without a plan and not blindly, not just into the night. And not alone. Although ...

Hades, having received everything he wanted, quickly began to lose interest in it. His shoulders slumped, his eyes began to dart around the room, as if looking for an excuse not to get bored. He was already smoking his third cigarette in a row. The smoke filled the room like a heavy blanket that made him feel sick, but Rava didn't move. He was like a statue. Worn, but standing. And only after a long pause did Hades take out his phone, lazily dial a number and coldly order his secretary to call a car.

"We're leaving," he said, as if Rava cared.

When they went outside, the sky was already painted in a thick, pink-gold sunset. The embankment in front of the building stretched out before them, reflecting the sunset in the water. Rava froze. His gaze caught on the horizon. It was a strange feeling - as if the whole world, so cruel and oppressive inside, suddenly became quiet and beautiful outside. The sunset seemed almost alive. A feeling of peace appeared in his heart for a split second.

His mouth opened on its own. Something squeezed in his chest.

"I want to dissolve in it," he whispered.

"Let's go," Hades's rough, abrupt voice interrupted the moment. Merciless, like a slap on the cheek. He had already passed by, without even looking, got into a parked car at the entrance, without saying goodbye to anyone, ignoring hands, shakes, exclamations. He simply disappeared behind the door of his expensive sedan.

The people standing on the street watched this performance. But their attention quickly switched to Rava. He felt their gazes crawling over him, clinging to the bruise, to his clothes, to his eyes. And all of them - the main donors, fans, spectators - were smiling. Not friendly, not human, but like wolves who sensed a wounded bird.

"I hate you," Rava stated the fact.

He got into the car as if into a cage. He didn't look at Hades, didn't say a word. He pressed himself against the door, turned away to the glass. He looked at the sunset again. At its remains. At the last glimmers of beauty that had not yet faded.

Hades watched him. Not with interest, but more with annoyance. With something that was like irritation, but deeper. He knew that Rava was somewhere far away now. And he didn't like it. He gave the command to go. The car moved. And a minute later, he also turned his head to the window. To the same sky. To the same side. They were looking at the same point, but they were probably seeing completely different things.

"Take today off," he ordered.

"Okay," Rava answered evenly, without a shadow of emotion.

This really angered the man. He fixed his gaze on him. He saw how calmly he was sitting, as if everything that had happened less than an hour ago had left no trace. His hair was perfectly gathered again. His clothes were neat and smooth. He was clean. Only one mark - a bruise on his entire cheek, which had already begun to swell - gave away the truth. And this mark burned Hades's eyes.

He raised his hand to touch it. But he changed his mind. He let go of his hand and clenched his fingers into a fist.

"And don't you dare run away," he said quietly, barely breathing.

"Okay," Rava repeated in the same even tone.

"Ha," Hades grinned. "You never listen to me."

He seemed to want to add something else vile, to sting. But he fell silent. He covered his mouth with his hand, turned away to the glass and simply blew another puff of air into the void.

Rava did not respond. He no longer tried to argue. He did not want to provoke.

"Let this evening just end."

So, in silence, they drove - each in his own little prison. Only one was outside. And the other - deep inside.

As the car smoothly turned towards the old but quiet neighborhood, Rava felt his body shrink from the inside. Every tree, every street lamp, every crack in the asphalt were familiar to him - and perhaps that was why he felt at least a little bit safe here. The area, although not shining with facades and shop windows, was reliable and clean. It had nothing of the licked lawns and marble floors among which Hades lived. And yet, this was precisely what caused the man another surge of contempt.

Hades looked out the window for a long time, silently examining the courtyards, entrances, other people's balconies with laundry, rusty bicycles and slightly peeling plaster. His gaze showed that disgust that he did not even try to hide. He exhaled, almost with a grin, and his voice sounded low, caustic, as if he was giving an order:

- Move in with me. This is no place for you.

Rava didn't answer. He didn't even turn his head. He continued to stare ahead, as if he hadn't heard. But the silence was the clearest answer. Hades understood it. He didn't say anything else.

The car stopped at the entrance. Rava reached for the door to get out, but he didn't even have time to touch the handle. Hades' cold fingers suddenly squeezed his wrist. The movement was too lively and instinctive, as if his hand knew what to do before his brain had time to give the command. And for a moment there was something strange in that grip, something human, almost confused. As if Hades himself hadn't expected to touch him. They both froze. Rava turned to look at him, but everything had already disappeared. The man pulled his hand away, as if he'd been burned, and immediately returned to his usual state.

Without saying a word, he got out of the car. He walked around it, opened the trunk. He rummaged around there for a few seconds, as if choosing how exactly to emphasize his indifference, and a minute later he opened the door for Rava, holding two boxes in his hands. One was with expensive chocolate wrapped in black lacquered paper, the other with a narrow bottle of perfume, whose cover shone with the logo of a famous brand.

"I brought it for you from a business trip," he threw out.

Rava did not need to think. No logic, no caution, a scorching fire flared up in his chest. Anger, humiliation, disgust - all this merged into one feeling: "after all, you dared to hand me a gift?"

He took the boxes from Hades's hands. His fingers were shaking. Everything inside was shaking like a leaf in the wind. He took a step back, then a second, and a moment later, turning sharply, he quickly headed for the trash can standing at the nearest entrance. His breathing was ragged, he felt something rising up inside him, breaking out, and when his hands threw the gifts into the trash, a hoarse, ragged cry burst from his chest.

- Never come here again! - he screamed, not turning around at once, but with such despair in his voice that even the walls seemed to feel this pain.

- Do you hear me?

He turned slowly. His face was already wet. Tears were pouring out without asking permission. They ran down his cheeks, down his chin, dripped onto his jacket, washing away the remains of that small pride.

- You're a piece of shit!

Hades watched. He took out a cigarette, lit it. But he smoked only one drag, holding the smoke in his lungs, as if holding something back inside. Then he abruptly threw the cigarette on the ground, without even putting it out, and silently got back into the car.

The engine started. The car moved smoothly, without noise, and drove away, dissolving in the evening haze, leaving no promises, no trace.

Rava stood for a long time. Then he stepped forward unsteadily. He walked slowly, as if every movement reverberated in his body, wiping away the remaining tears. When he reached the entrance and was about to enter the code, a soft, surprised voice came from the shadows, by the wall.

- Rava?

He froze. He raised his head. There, in the semi-darkness, stood Blaine, Iris and Ivi. There was confusion and genuine concern in their eyes.