Riley was confused.

He stood in front of the door for a moment, hesitant. He was carrying a shopping bag full of different things to eat and drink. Riley didn’t know what Taj liked, so he bought a bit of everything. He even considered whether he should buy him clothes. 

Fuck, Taj was not taking care of himself. The shoes he wore were completely worn out. Riley also noticed that the legs of his pants were torn, not to mention his shirt—yet, Taj didn’t look worse, only better. 

That was when Riley decided. No, fuck, he won’t buy clothes. 

Additionally, there was another reason for this decision. Riley knew he needed to be careful. He knew he couldn’t give Taj money or things. Fuck. He knew because he asked around, and what he found out was a fucking problem. 

Riley realized that he was not alone in his attempts. He was the richest, for sure, but he wasn’t the only one trying to get Taj. What was worse, no money worked, no gifts worked; Taj rejected it all. That was what Riley had learned recently, and he felt a sting of… panic? Fuck, no, not panic, but jealousy.

These thoughts were brief. He was simply nervous; he wasn’t sure if what he did was right. Would Taj be angry? Or not? Then Riley decided to knock. After a longer moment, the door opened.

Taj’s face wore a resigned look. 

They stood for a moment like that, and then Taj nodded, without words, indicating that Riley could come in. Or at least that was how he understood it. 

Taj sat in his armchair, looking exhausted. Riley had never seen him this tired before. He really wanted to help, but he was afraid to move. 

It was a chilly, gray, rainy day. Certainly, it didn’t improve the mood.

Taj leaned his head against the backrest, opened his eyes slightly as if he remembered about Riley, and then quietly asked him to make tea.

Riley poured his whole heart into making the tea. 

Somehow, it calmed him. He slowly put away the items he’d bought on the shelves or in the fridge. He tried to help by cleaning, but he stopped. Riley wasn’t sure what to put where or how to even clean, but he organized the table, the only one in the apartment. 

The place was not spacious. There were only a few things. It wasn’t a warm, inviting home.

Then Riley had a thought. Where was the bed? There was none. Did Taj sleep on the floor? Another thought occurred to him—Taj allowed him to come in, they were alone, the guards that followed Riley everywhere didn’t matter, they were outside… could he? Should he have? 

No, no, better not. Not to spoil it. Riley already felt good. He was helping Taj. He was at his apartment, helping him to rest. 

Riley served the tea in silence. 

Taj took the cup and drank in silence, too. Then he again leaned his head back and stayed in this position for longer. 

The rain rustled against the windows. 

Riley felt calm. He thought he could spend days just watching Taj rest.

Taj sometimes slightly moved to change his position for more comfort but didn’t open his eyes. He looked so exhausted… Riley was thinking, wondering. He observed, didn’t say a word out loud. He could tell that Taj’s body was slowly relaxing, but his face still looked as if he was in pain. Why? And his hair was messy. It needed brushing. 

Riley was calm, lost in his thoughts.

Then, suddenly, Taj asked him to go out. He wasn’t angry; he added the word ‘please.’ Riley left, not wanting to disturb him. 

And then Riley felt confused. 

He waited outside in the rain, watching Taj’s window, until all the lights went off. 

Riley was thinking again. Why was Taj so tired? What could it be? No school, no teaching, no job could tire someone like this—fuck, could it? Riley didn’t know. He had never worked, but he assumed. 

Then he got it. Fights. Taj was a fighter. 

It had to be it. 

Riley decided that he needed to see these fights again. He had been there before, but he hadn’t truly paid attention. He had watched some people fighting. The fights were fucking intense, but who cared?

… Fuck, he cared! The fighter was Taj, and Riley wanted to see why his Taj was so tired. 

He also needed to think about a way to give Taj money. Rowan mentioned that Taj taught for money. But this time, he had to think about how to do it without offending Taj. 

“Fucking me,” he thought. He always had to say something stupid. Not this time. This time he, Riley, would think it through.