soothing about being in the quiet room just counting limes and bottles of beer. My calm is interrupted though as the door opens and suddenly Walt is standing next to me.
I openly glare at him, “What are you doing back here?”
He frowns, “I told Gina I had to call my sister for something.”
“And?” I didn’t ask what lie he’d fed Gina to come back here I asked him why he’d come back here at all.
Walt leans back against the door he’d just come through and stares at me. He looks better than he had last night at least. He’d showered and put on fresh clothes so he doesn’t smell like booze. “Why are you mad at me?” He replies.
“You’re the detective figure it out.” I retort while trying my best to focus on my task.
“I’m not a detective,” he points out, “just a cop.” He leans forward and his hand gently grazes over mine. I pause and for a moment I just want to sink into his thoughts and emotions as they sweep over me. The concern, sadness, and affection all swirl over me in an intoxicating blend, but instead I jerk my hand away.
“Don’t touch me!” I growl out. “You know I hate being touched.”
A hurt look crosses over Walt’s face, “You didn’t seem to mind it last night.” He points out.
I scowl and grip the clipboard until my knuckles turn white, “That was last night.” I reply in an icy tone.
“So what happened? Why are you mad at me?” He leans in closer and I can smell the soft floral scent of his shampoo, “I can’t fix it unless you tell me what’s wrong.”
I let out an angry exhale, “Why did you leave?”
Walt raises an eyebrow, “Why did I leave what?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and restrain myself from hitting him with the clipboard. “Me!” I clarify with an angry shout. “Why did you leave me this morning without saying anything! You came to my home, passed out drunk, and then just left!”
He takes a step back in surprise, “Okay, it sounds way worse when you say it like that.”
I glare at him, “How else would I say it?”
Walt shrugs sheepishly, “I don’t know. I was a little bit drunk and then I was a little bit hungover. I wasn’t really thinking.” He explains. “I’m sorry.” He adds on quietly. “I didn’t know it’d make you so upset.”
I shake my head. I don’t particularly feel like forgiving him right now even though I know I will eventually. I know he’s being honest and his apology is sincere, but my feelings still feel sore. Instead we fall into an awkward silence.
After a moment though Walt speaks up again, “Isn’t it a bit hypocritical though for you to be mad at me for leaving?” I turn and stare at him. He better have a great followup to that or he’s going to get a taste of electricity. Sensing my violence Walt quickly puts his hands up and continues on, “I mean from back in high school.” Oh. I take a step back and let his words sink in. “You know that was the first time I’d ever kissed a guy and then the next day you had just disappeared. I thought it was my fault, that I’d done something wrong.” He says quietly.
I swallow and feel the remaining bits of anger I’d been holding onto disappear. “It wasn’t like that.” I wish I could explain everything to him. Tell him about why I’d had to leave, about the soldiers hunting me, and the death of my mother by their hands, but I can’t bring the words past my lips. Instead they stay stuck in my throat. It’s safer if he doesn’t know anything. I look
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past him at the door, “You should go back. Gina’s probably wondering about what’s taking you so long.”
“Mathew…” He reaches out for me, but I quickly sidestep him.
“Don’t.” I warn him. I don’t need his emotions clouding up mine and I certainly don’t want mine mixing with his. “Just go.” I wave him off, “It’s fine.”
I see his lips turn into a sad pout, but he takes his leave and I’m left alone again. I stare up at the ceiling and at the small yellow light dangling by a wire from the ceiling. Why does everything in life have to be so complicated? I never asked for any of this. And maybe that’s the real reason I’d stopped running. Maybe I do want those soldiers to find me if only to finally get the answers that my father always denied me. When I think that though I can’t help but picture my mom’s body lying on the ground dead. She died protecting me. My father is also probably dead. If I let myself get caught then what was the point of their sacrifices?
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