“I think he should go home, the man can’t cook!” Erik was leaned forward, sitting on the edge of the couch as his eyes were glued to the TV in front of him. Beautiful dishes made Erik’s stomach rumble loudly despite eating an hour ago. Today’s episode was about dishes from South America.

Recently, Talvi had introduced him to a cooking show in which both of them had become utterly addicted to watching.

Just like him, Talvi’s eyes were glued to the TV as contestants stood still in a line as the judges tasted each one of their dishes. “His entire dish was crumbly and burnt, I swear to god if he stays and Jenna goes I’m turning the TV off.”

The wind drifted through the room but it wasn’t cold. Their small living room was the type of living room that if they stood still for too long their eyes would drift to a close and they would slip into a sleep with a content smile.

Weaving his blue tinted yarn together, Erik responded, “Jenna is absolutely better than that buffoon. All his does is gloat and be arrogant.” A cool air wove itself through the apartment and around the furniture from the open window nearby. For perhaps the first time in forever, the city seemed quieter than usual. Blue light emitted from the television screen lit up the dark apartment in cobalt.

Talvi sat on the floor in front of him, their laptop on the dark coffee table and a red blanket thrown over their lap. They turned their head towards him and smiled, so the skin crinkled next to their ocean-like eyes, “I think we’re getting addicted to this show.”

“It’s only a mild addiction.” Talvi’s eyes squinted slightly as they called him out, “Okay, fine. It’s a full blown addiction. But its not our faults that this show is so good!”

Erik did another loop, awkwardly slipping the hook together and pulling, “I can’t believe you’re taking up crochet.” Talvi took a sip of their black coffee. He could see that it was still steaming despite them having made it almost an hour ago.

“Why is that?”

Talvi smirked, the blue of their eyes like a taunting wave before it crashed down onto him, “You literally have the hand eye coordination of a blind chimpanzee. I watched you miss the plate when you putting the Manti on it earlier.”

“That’s slander. And rude.” He said with an upturned nose as he incorrectly looped his yarn together. He’d been trying to follow a tutorial on his phone and had been failing it since he started.

“I don’t think its slander if its a fact Erik. Why did you decide to start crocheting anyway? You just came home with a bag of it and explained nothing.”

“What? I can’t be mysterious?” Talvi’s eyebrow raised, “Fine. I saw some guy on the bus crocheting I thought, why the fuck not? I’m basically a new man anyways.” So, on the way home, Erik passed by a crafts store and decided to go in on a whim.

“Eh, good enough reason if I’ve ever heard one.”

He leaned forward to see the small video playing on their computer screen, “What are you working on?”

“It’s research for my missing persons investigation. One of the videos the victims posted.” Other tabs on Talvi’s computer detailed his other social medias.

It was his turn for a raised eyebrow now, “The one that your boss told you not to work on anymore?”

Their voice darkened with slight frustration, “Thanks mom, but I know what I’m doing.”

“Hey.” He raised his hands high in surrender, “I never told you to stop it. Whose that?”

“Oh, that’s the victim.” Nearing the end of the video it panned over to a man as his muted voice spoke about people in the subway presumably. “Augustus Wall. Well presumed victim as the police call him.”

His. Slight sweat peppered his brow in the humid underground, passing trains on the other side of the track ruffled the back of his curly hair. Augustus panned the camera around his smoky eyes were super animated the longer he spoke.

Like a thick rock was thrown into murky waters, memories began to ripple within him. The ripples in the water lulled him and weighed down his eyes before nausea ripped the floor away from beneath him.

Gunmetal grey eyes stuck out from the swirling fog as cobalt tears collected at the edges of his eyelids. Scarlet was pressed into the skin surrounding his blurry eyes.

Clattering wood, perhaps from a stick or pole hushed a sound in the empty room. Erik couldn’t see past the view into the man’s eyes. They burned into his psyche, carving the sight of pearly eyes that dripped silver tears. The tears slipped into the red surrounding his eyes, treading a path through the vermillion sea.

The ripples stopped abruptly as aggressive tapping on Erik’s thigh fogged up the world once again. “Look! Look! They’re gonna eliminate him!”

“Huh?” The nausea roiled once again, his hands feeling like hot static bursting at the seams. Letting the metal crotchet hooks roll from his quivering fingertips and onto his lap, Erik tried to balance himself. Despite still feeling like he was being swung on a swing. His head running a million miles an hour.

He smacked his lips together, trying to press the dryness from his coral lips. It suddenly felt like he hadn’t had a drink in ages. Erik followed Talvi’s gaze to the television as the eliminated their mutually hated chef, his arrogance fading away from his features as the truth set in.

Erik dragged his gaze back down to Talvi, a slight smirk still lingering on his face from watching the man walk off set. The steam had disappeared from their coffee cup.

Erik noticed a small curl resting on their nape, twisted like a pinned curl from the roaring twenties, Erik’s smile began to fade. Instead turning into widening eyes, sunken cheekbones and downturned lips.

He clenched his fists, a heaviness weighing over his chest once again like a rain-filled cloud.