Alexej,<\/em> he rehearsed the name in his mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cThe point is,\u201d started Alexej, lowering his voice, \u201cthat I know you\u2019ve been meaning to run from home, and I can offer you a lift out of here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For the second time that night, Mikl\u00f3s felt his heavy-lidded eyes widen against the sleepiness. Surprise shook him even before doubt had reached the edges of his consciousness. It took a moment for him to turn his skepticism into words and formulate a question \u2014 a moment during which he couldn\u2019t help but notice that, from up close, the color of Alexej\u2019s eyes looked even brighter than it did from afar, almost unnaturally so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy would you do that?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s asked when he finally found the words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej brought a hand to his mouth and stared at Mikl\u00f3s with a peculiar warmth in his gaze. Unfamiliar with his mannerisms, Mikl\u00f3s wasn\u2019t sure how to interpret this, but if he had to guess, he\u2019d say the stranger was interested in him for some reason.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBecause,\u201d explained Alexej, \u201cyou remind me a bit of myself. We\u2019re both runaways, in a sense.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For a moment the stranger looked lost in thought, and Mikl\u00f3s tried to imagine him as a farmer in some remote Slovenian village far from there. It was difficult to reconcile that concept with the handsome, kind and well-spoken guy who sat on the opposite side of the table. It was almost unbelievable, and yet so refreshing, so encouraging: if that guy ran away from the countryside, then Mikl\u00f3s, too, could do the same.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On the other hand, Mikl\u00f3s wasn\u2019t sure such a stroke of luck could be realistic \u2014 did things like that just happen regularly to people out there in the world? \u2014 and he wasn\u2019t sure if he could place confidence in Alexej. However, he couldn\u2019t think of a reason why that situation couldn\u2019t be truthful, or why the man in front of him, with his kind attitude and his understanding smile, couldn\u2019t be trusted. What would the man have to gain from lying to him?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOf course, it\u2019s not just that,\u201d Alexej added, almost as if he could tell Mikl\u00f3s was uncertain. \u201cI also need the help of someone from around here, and you seem perfect for the job.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI do?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej laughed. It was a faint sound, muffled by his lips and barely escaping in the form of small puffs, and it extended to his face, lifting his cheeks. Alexej nodded through it. \u201cYou do. Now,\u201d he added, his tone of voice painting his whisper with complicity, \u201cstop looking so happy. I\u2019m supposed to bring you back home, so try to look… reluctant but convinced.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s nodded enthusiastically. As he tried to put on a sad expression, he realised that, for once, he felt hopeful about his future.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Against the backdrop of a sleeping Dobrovnik, all low buildings with brown pitched roofs, some spare houses with all the lights turned off, Alexej and Mikl\u00f3s walked. As they moved away from the center of the town, the houses stood lonelier and lonelier \u2014 lost sheep separated from their flock in the middle of the frozen cornfields \u2014 and the ground beneath their feet went from uniform paved road to a dusty gravel road, until they were walking on the irregular dirt of the open fields.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Everything seemed so different to Mikl\u00f3s, almost as if he was looking at the view with a new pair of eyes. As if for the first time, he saw the sprouts of the wheat planted at the start of autumn, and their way of puncturing the icy ground suddenly seemed a brave move, one worthy of his awe, the single act that screamed life in the heart of a ghost town. By day, even the houses of the poorest farmers emanated a certain familiar warmth, but right now they looked like lonely tombstones in the middle of a massive graveyard; and yet, even there, those crops ripened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked away from the familiar view and focused, instead, on his unfamiliar companion. Alexej walked by Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 side in silence. He didn\u2019t ask questions; he didn\u2019t talk or complain; on the contrary, he looked relaxed, like it was just another walk and he was spending it stargazing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But it wasn\u2019t just that which captivated Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 mind. It wasn\u2019t just Alexej\u2019s charming appearance and attitude, his strange accent \u2014 maybe people in the west of Slovenia all spoke like that? \u2014 nor the elegant way he talked: it was, for lack of a better term, that faint aura of mystery that seemed to envelop him whole. That, together with Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 curiosity, was the fuel behind each of his steps, even when his hands, steadily holding the handlebars of his bicycle, had grown so pale, knuckles reddened and fingertips numb.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bringing the bike along with them was Alexej\u2019s idea. Leaving it near the bar would make Nik and Lara suspect of something, he\u2019d said, but it didn\u2019t seem to take into consideration the sharp winter wind that Mikl\u00f3s was only used to hearing through his house\u2019s windows. That same wind that now cut through their clothes and slashed against their cheeks, so much that, at one point, Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 teeth started chattering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When he looked up at Alexej, no signs that he was suffering from the frigid temperature could be read in his expression, but his cheeks, reddened in some places, and his rosy nose seemed to at least be suffering the wind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 stare, or maybe the rattle of his teeth, must have attracted Alexej\u2019s attention, for it shifted towards Mikl\u00f3s; his eyes traveled from the boy\u2019s head to his toes, before looking away again, and the tense silence that had fallen between them since they\u2019d started walking was broken. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s freezing, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej spoke so nonchalantly that, while he nodded in response, Mikl\u00f3s felt stupid for forcing himself to stay quiet all that time. He had thought someone who was already a man \u2014 grown-up, mature, independent \u2014 wouldn\u2019t be interested in making small talk with him. Instead, the smile Alexej wore, his raised eyebrow and the inquisitive look he threw around, almost looked friendly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWould you usually walk this path when returning from the town centre?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s looked around for a short moment. He recognised the nearby house, where the Pahor family lived, and the edges of the fields dissolving into the thickening woods. He nodded, again, then added a whispered confirmation. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej took the handlebars from his hands with a firm gesture and, as soon as Mikl\u00f3s let go of it, he pushed the bike to the ground. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 attempted to let his confusion bubble out of his mouth, but before the thought could take form on his tongue, he found his hands wrapped inside Alexej\u2019s warm grip, and all words died on his lips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTry to stay warm,\u201d Alexej whispered and, as quick as it had materialised, his grip loosened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When the fair head of hair turned away from him, Mikl\u00f3s was still staring at his own hands, thinking that, the last time someone tried to warm them like that, his mother\u2019s hair had been far less grey than it was now, and her hands had smelled like baked potatoes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe\u2019re going to leave the bike here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s shook his head to force himself out of his reverie. He turned towards Alexej, expecting him to be looking around, examining the ground, and he almost jumped back when he met the other\u2019s gaze fixed on him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the dim light of the moon, Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t clearly see his face, but he could recognize the brightness of Alexej\u2019s eyes, alert as if they belonged to someone who didn\u2019t need sleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDid you change your mind? Do you want to go home?\u201d asked Alexej.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo.\u201d He didn\u2019t even think about it. \u201cI\u2019m with you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The other nodded, curving his lips upwards as he took a couple of branches from the ground and held one of them out to Mikl\u00f3s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen help me conceal our traces, would you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The woods were darker than the open fields. Even without their summer leaves, the branches at the top of the canopy were still thick enough to tickle each other, play with the wind, and conceal Mikl\u00f3s and Alexej from the gaze of the moon. They were almost in the dark, but as Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 eyes got used to it, it didn\u2019t seem such a bad compromise: the trunks, young and old alike, and their countless branches, absorbed almost all of the progressively rising fury of the wind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s had a knot in his chest, halfway between his throat and his stomach. It throbbed at the same rhythm as his heartbeat, and it almost felt as if it grew with every breath he took. Focusing on the howling of the wind only made it worse and, no matter how much he swallowed, he could never gulp it down. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
That sensation had been born as he started concealing his traces in the field, but with Alexej kindly but firmly directing his actions, it had been easier to forget about the weight in his throat, about sleepiness, thoughts, and worries. So easy that, now that they were both resting at the edge of the woods, he wished Alexej would give him something else to do. Instead, that knot throbbed like a second heart, and a crazy one at that, because Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t tell what had quickened its beat like that. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sitting next to Mikl\u00f3s and his new useless organ, Alexej leaned against a tree, all bundled up in his clothes, half-lidded eyes staring at something on the ground. He had said he would be resting, but it looked a lot like thinking. Torn between speaking his mind just like Alexej seemed to do, and trying not to disturb him, Mikl\u00f3s found himself once again rehearsing questions in his mind that never managed to reach his lips, never knew breath and never arrived at anyone\u2019s ear. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was only because of the urgency that the knot in his throat seemed to be pushing into his system, only because of the strain it put him under, that Mikl\u00f3s took one of the questions bubbling up in his mind and pushed it forcefully onto his tongue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou said you needed help. What kind of help?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej raised his gaze almost instantly. His suddenly alert eyes softened almost as quickly, and he shifted, better settling in his position. He brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCan you speak Hungarian?\u201d he asked, resting the side of his head on his knees.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s nodded. \u201cSure, I do. Almost everyone can, near the border.\u201d As he explained, Mikl\u00f3s realized it was probably not common at all in other places. The knowledge that he had a skill that could prove itself useful instilled a note of enthusiasm in his voice as he continued talking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201dAlso, you know, my name\u2019s Hungarian! I took it from–\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMikl\u00f3s, correct?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Only after several moments of sudden silence did Mikl\u00f3s realize his surprise stemmed from the fact that it was the first time Alexej had pronounced his name. With his accent, the tongue dragged a bit on the final letter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIs it your name?\u201d Alexej insisted, and only then did Mikl\u00f3s remember to inhale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes,\u201d he voiced with a nod. \u201cBut my friends call me Miksa.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s head lifted slowly from its position, together with one of his eyebrows, and he repeated the nickname. His face looked like the one Edi made when he was about to taste one of mom\u2019s new recipes, as if preparing for both the worst and the best at the same time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou can call me that, too,\u201d offered Mikl\u00f3s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The wind howled wildly and a blow swept up some of the leaves rotting among the bushes, attracting their attention for a moment, and making Mikl\u00f3s realize that the knot in his throat, at some point, had dissolved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMiksa, huh?\u201d he heard Alexej sigh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s turned to find the other slowly standing up. The cheek that had been resting against the knees was slightly reddened, and pieces of bark and dirt hung onto his jacket here and there until Alexej started to brush them away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t have a nickname, however,\u201d he explained, as he checked if there was any dirt left on his clothes. \u201cIt would probably be better if–\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAle\u0161.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej looked almost as surprised by the interruption as Mikl\u00f3s was \u2014 he didn\u2019t mean to blurt it out so suddenly. He couldn\u2019t deny, however, that seeing that expression on Alexej\u2019s face surely made it worthwhile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCan I call you Ale\u0161, then?\u201d rephrased Mikl\u00f3s, still sitting on his crossed legs. In response, he felt Alexej\u2019s hand close its grip around one of his shoulders and then squeeze gently. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf you wish so,\u201d he said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Only a moment later, the same hand was offered to help Mikl\u00f3s up, and soon they were both standing \u2014 not quite exactly face-to-face, since Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shorter stature placed him more in a face-to-neck position. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej turned towards the depths of the woods, where they got darker and thicker. \u201cI have to get to Hungary,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd I need your aid to cross the border, Miksa.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s knew next to nothing about borders, and even less about crossing one. The idea he could leave Slovenia had never even passed through his mind before Alexej had mentioned it, and now it sat on his shoulder, the alien thing, and it whispered into his ears dreams he didn\u2019t understand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He was about to voice his doubts \u2014 about to ask how could he help if he had no idea what to do \u2014 but then he stopped, lips froze half-open, and nothing but a puff of breath left his throat. He stopped because he realized that admitting he couldn\u2019t help could mean invalidating their agreement: It could mean that Alexej would go on his way, find someone else to help him, and Mikl\u00f3s would be left to his own devices. That was to be, of course, the natural conclusion of their partnership, but he didn\u2019t want it to happen this soon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He could tell Alexej had his eyes on him, he could feel the weight of them, and he looked at the dark depths of the woods in search of an idea, of the memory of something he had studied, or maybe heard, about the Hungarian border, something apart from the fact that it was nearby, somewhere east, in the woods.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej pushed a small flashlight into Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 fist and, when Mikl\u00f3s turned, he found the other rummaging through his own backpack, a seemingly spacious bag, one of those favored by campers. Mikl\u00f3s turned the light on and illuminated the inside of the pack where, among the sounds of crumpled paper and between Alexej\u2019s hands moving around, Mikl\u00f3s counted at least six different roadmaps, some apparently untouched, others undoubtedly opened at least once but then tidily put back. He read a couple of names \u2014 Hungary, Austria, Romania, Croatia \u2014 until Alexej found what he was looking for.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej knelt on the ground, where he proceeded to unfold a thick bundle of paper, the \u201cExtensive Roadmap of Slovenia, 1992 edition\u201d<\/em>. As he spread out the huge map, Mikl\u00f3s noticed several roads highlighted with markers of various colors; the yellow, green and pink lines ran all over the paper, intersected in places, and followed small roads, forming a complicated web as a result. Finally, Alexej pointed to an area of the map, nodded to himself, folded what he could of the voluminous paper they didn\u2019t need, and then pulled Mikl\u00f3s down with a tug of his coat. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cThis is the street that runs through town, see?\u201d Alexej explained, his finger following a green-highlighted line that twisted and bent itself on the map. \u201cAnd it leads to the border.\u201d His finger reached a fat red line after which everything on the map was grey. The letters navigating the grey sea read \u2018Hungary\u2019, in several languages. Mikl\u00f3s nodded, his eyes briefly running up the other\u2019s dimly lit face, as Alexej leaned forward on the map.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNow the problem is that this road is closed. A landslide, an accident, I\u2019m not entirely sure; what I understood for certain is that I cannot pass through there tonight. But I cannot wait until tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s examined the map attentively. He leaned closer, identified the roads he knew, mentally traced gravel roads and dirt paths that weren\u2019t marked on the map, and finally pinpointed their approximate position. Woods appeared, on the map, as comparatively empty green zones, and through the one they were in, the fat red line cut the woods grey.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat happens tomorrow?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s asked, once he had the map memorized and he was standing up once again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the cone illuminated by the flashlight, Alexej spread out the map once again and then carefully folded it back, following the lead of the previously formed creases. Mikl\u00f3s waited, silently.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Once the map was back in his backpack, methodically reduced to a bundle, Alexej stood with a sigh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTruth is, Miksa,\u201d he said, holding a second flashlight in his right hand, \u201cthe people I\u2019m running from can be surprisingly obstinate.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej sounded bitter; his words stung on the tongue like salted lemon. His fingers tapped against the flashlight a couple of times before turning it on and using it to look back towards the fields.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The wind\u2019s howls had risen so intensely in strength and volume that it was hard to pretend they were just background noise; the air got damp \u2014 Mikl\u00f3s felt the biting cold in his joints \u2014 and the night was barely past its darkest point. He wasn\u2019t sure even the most obstinate family, or whoever it was looking for Alexej, would go out following people during such a stormy night. The rain clouds couldn\u2019t be very far, and it wasn\u2019t going to be a gentle downpour.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe need to hurry,\u201d he commented. \u201cIt\u2019ll take half an hour to get to the border, and in less than one hour there\u2019s going to be one hell of a storm.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s lips curved up in a kind smile, and it almost looked proud \u2014 or it could have been a trick of the light.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was so lucky to find you,\u201d he said heartily. \u201cPlease, lead the way.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
With a gesture of the hand, Alexej left him the head of their two-man expedition, and Mikl\u00f3s hustled ahead. He followed the easiest route he could find, where the bushes were lower, the branches highest and the moss climbed the left side of the trunks. He switched the flashlight from one hand to the other from time to time, to warm the free hand in the pockets of his coat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They both walked in silence, but the wind wasn\u2019t the only loud conversationalist: bird wings fluttered and owls shrieked and, for every step they made in the undergrowth, a twig snapped, a root creaked, and the next breath of wind brought along a wet smell of earth and rotting leaves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Behind him, Alexej didn\u2019t sound like he was having trouble following his lead. On the contrary, his breath was controlled, his pace regular, and when Mikl\u00f3s sometimes glanced back to check, Alexej was always no more than three steps behind him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They proceeded quicker than anticipated, chased by a restless stormy wind and by the echo of a far-away thunder. Along their trek, a spider crawling up Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 clothes was pinched away by Alexej, and midges seemed to insistently seek refuge in his eyes; otherwise, Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t spot many animals \u2014 they were probably hurriedly crowding into the depths of their lairs. The two of them, Mikl\u00f3s and Alexej, should have done the same, should have hurried and hidden from the upcoming storm, waited for it to pass. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
That was what he had been taught since he was a child: that storms were dangerous, livid things, and they had it out for him. And yet, there he was, leaving his home as it started to rain, as frogs did. He couldn\u2019t say he wasn\u2019t scared. But, underneath the fear, beyond the concern, there was a flicker of something different, of that part of him which believed, at the peak of his confidence, that everything would turn out fine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As they got closer and closer to their destination, Mikl\u00f3s started wondering about the border. He wasn\u2019t even sure if they had passed it or not. Was crossing a border supposed to be hard, as the fat red line on the map seemed to imply? Would there be something to signal that Slovenia finished and Hungary began? Would there be a wall, a fence, a trench? Would it feel different once they got to the other side?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe it was like a birthday, when everyone asked him how he felt and he didn\u2019t know how to say he felt every bit as he had the previous day. But if it was like that, how would they know whether they had reached their goal? Was someone waiting for Alexej, on the other side? And once in Hungary, where was he planning to go?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 throat got drier, his clothes felt soggier, and musky-smelling droplets started to wet his coat, he somehow found himself wishing their destination wasn\u2019t so close. He didn\u2019t even realize how heavy his backpack felt, and how his eyelids felt even heavier, how he kept growing more and more tired, until the trees started to thin out in front of him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As they faded, the woods seemed to swell with anger, the tops of the branches whipping the air, and the promise of the upcoming storm weighing down on the sky itself. Just like the dark grey clouds looming over him, Mikl\u00f3s felt lumbering and tired. His eyes burned and his eyelids fell shut, out of his control, obscuring his vision. With each faltering step forward he asked himself for a little bit more time, he pushed his exhausted legs half a meter onwards, he strained his weary eyes to guide him to the next tree, he drained himself a bit more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He became aware of his own overpowering tiredness suddenly \u2014 or, to be more exact, he only gave in to it at the last possible moment, when the edges of his vision were starting to darken and he wasn\u2019t really sure what was holding his body up anymore. And even then, he felt, more than anything, that he wasn\u2019t ready to stop just yet, he wasn\u2019t ready to say goodbye.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
With unfamiliar wheat fields in sight ahead and a raging storm only a couple of steps back, Mikl\u00f3s slid down against a tree and brought his knees to his chest, the weight of more than twenty-two hours suddenly unbearable on his shoulders. He heard Alexej stop next to him, but he didn’t have the strength to look up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI knew I could trust you,\u201d he heard the other say. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He felt Alexej\u2019s hand grip his shoulder. He wanted to thank him, to smile at him, but as his head fell between his knees, the only words Mikl\u00f3s could will out of his mouth were a weak murmur.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSorry, Ale\u0161, I\u2019m so sleepy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even muffled through the pillow of his fading consciousness, the thunder that echoed sounded alarmingly close, and yet not quite as alarming as the fading sound of Alexej\u2019s steps.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the end, Hungary didn\u2019t feel different at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2014\u2014\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n
ii. the storm wailed, the sun spoke<\/em><\/h2>\n\n\n\nMikl\u00f3s would have loved to rest under that tree for a whole day. But the storm raging above his head had a whole different idea, and the cold large drops dripping down his neck and sliding under his clothes wouldn’t leave him in sleep’s embrace for more than a few minutes at a time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He dozed in and out of consciousness, his mind numb and unfocused, and it took every last amount of his strength to will his legs up and his body straight. However, taking his first step, Mikl\u00f3s found that it was easier to walk after that; carried by inertia, he left the meagre shelter of the tree and headed for the open fields. His mind, now slightly more responsive, learned right then the true meaning of the expression \u201cdrenched to the bone\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He held onto a trunk he found in his path, leaned his face against the bark and breathed in the musk. He looked ahead. The dark sky looked livid as if bubbling with rage; the treetops swayed fiercely and the wind sent the rain flying violently, drenching everything. In the middle of the downpour, the fields looked empty of life: no sign of anyone, to the point that it seemed silly to think someone could have just crossed it, or would be willing to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a monster looming behind Mikl\u00f3s. Something big and dark, whose grabbing hands weighed as heavy as disappointment, whose touch was a shiver running down his spine, breaking the rhythm of his already shuddering frame. The monster\u2019s voice sounded like his vague recollection of Alexej saying something as he left, and its body was just as hazy, so much it was hard to tell if that memory-turned-beast was born from reality or from a dream.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s wanted to run from that monster, or ignore its puerile existence and what it stood for. He wished for nothing but to deny what he couldn\u2019t help but know: that he thought he had found a kindred spirit, and it seemed, once again, that he had been mistaken. It wouldn\u2019t have been such an unbearable thought, if it didn\u2019t burn his heart with humiliation, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
To run from it, he pushed forward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But the more Mikl\u00f3s walked, the faster the monster got; the more he struggled along towards the shack he had noticed in the field, the louder the thoughts were in his mind \u2014 so loud they drowned out the sounds of the storm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
By the time his hands pushed open the door to the shack, it had become impossible to ignore his feelings. He almost muttered to them, asked them to leave while he wiped the rain away from his face and opened his backpack, groping for a change of clothes at least slightly less wet than those he was wearing. Even while he silently found a place to rest and from which he could wait out the storm, his mind was caught in a downpour quite harder to ride out than the one raging outside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As soon as he was sitting on the ground, a dreamless sleep took him over, so quickly he didn\u2019t even have time to feel lucky for it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The first thing he was aware of was the rain. It still poured and poured over him, his hair stuck to his face and his neck, his clothes almost glued to his body, countless drops hitting on his back. But then \u2014 he realised, even before his ears could hear the storm \u2014 there was a warmth that wasn\u2019t his own, under his legs, behind his neck, on his side. There was the sound of a breath, heavy but regular, and the smell, musky and also just a little bit sweet, like a forest in spring.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t try to open his eyes. Instead, he sank his face deeper in the soft fabric that sheltered that pleasant smell; and, like that, he dozed off again. He was barely aware of the storm around him, barely aware of the movements that tossed him right and left, but distinctly aware, instead, of the arms carrying him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was only after their presence had faded for a while that Mikl\u00f3s actually woke up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He slowly regained awareness of his body, and was surrounded by the muffled sounds of the subsiding storm, by the humming of an engine and by the sound of a familiar song. He found himself rocked by the slow, sluggish crooning of a moving car. On the back seats, which smelled like old leather but felt so pleasantly warm, he lay down enveloped in a coat clearly too big for him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When he opened his eyes, the unfamiliar car was immersed in the greyish light from the sky outside. There was no way to say what time it was, but it was safe to assume the sun hadn\u2019t set yet. The rain tapped against the windows and dripped down their surface, and the mere fact it didn\u2019t hit him or wet his clothes caused a sudden sense of relief to wash over him. Beyond the glass ran trees, fields and sometimes buildings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Slowly, Mikl\u00f3s sat up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Behind the wheel, Alexej hummed a cheerful tune along with the radio. His hair was dripping wet and the clothes he was wearing didn\u2019t seem in better condition; the coat on Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shoulders seemed to be the driest piece of fabric in the whole cabin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGood morning,\u201d greeted Alexej, his eyes meeting Mikl\u00f3s in the rear-view mirror. As if nothing had ever happened. In barely a moment, their sharp gaze was back on the road.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The questions crowding on Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 lips intersected, merged and stumbled on each other until what came out was a stammering tangle of letters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Finally, he settled on a rasping \u201cmorning\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej snickered, uncharacteristically ungraceful for a short, stunning moment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI had quite some trouble finding you,\u201d he said, tone still amused. \u201cWere you trying to disappear on me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s shook his head slowly, unsure of what to say, struggling to find the words to express an anguish that now, in hindsight, looked almost ridiculous. \u201cThere was a lot of rain, and–\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was joking, Miksa. You did well to find some shelter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The incessant drumming of the rain seemed to be slowly subsiding, and a little hint of sunlight filtered through the clouds. Mikl\u00f3s tried to put on a smile but could feel his cheeks flushing with blood. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the coat sliding down his shoulders.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThere\u2019s a small hotel down ahead,\u201d Alexej explained, pointing at the seat next to him with a nod. On its worn-out leather sat a roadmap of Hungary, half folded, the paper wet in places. \u201cWe\u2019ll take a room and warm up a bit. Is that all right with you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At that point, and only then, did Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 brain seem to get comfortable with the idea that maybe his initial impression of Alexej hadn\u2019t been so drastically wrong. He smiled, truthfully this time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMore than alright, Ale\u0161.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The hotel looked more like a big farm, with stables full of animals chilled to the bones and a young man trying to mop the drying mud out of the patio. The rain had turned the empty parking ground into an expanse of muddy ponds where the wheels of the cars sank, spattering muck all around.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They exited the vehicle \u2014 Mikl\u00f3s still had no idea exactly when and how Alexej had come into possession of that run-down car \u2014 and grabbed their backpacks. The rain was as thin as air, and it really didn\u2019t make any difference when it poured over the two of them, as drenched as they still were.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s felt tired. Even back in the warm cabin of the car, he had shivered inside his clothes, and his bones and muscles had ached like after a day of helping his father in the fields. Therefore, from his position next to the car, shoes sinking in mud and an oversized coat hanging from his shoulders, the old and not exactly well-tended holiday farm looked like the most comfortable place he had seen in ages.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As he silently followed Alexej inside, Mikl\u00f3s felt as if he had been thrown violently into a world too big for himself. He was worried, almost scared. The building seemed big, at least three or four times the size of the houses he was used to seeing, and in the greyish light of the aftermath of the most violent storm that season had seen, the warm colours of the outside walls looked distinctly off. But Alexej walked confidently, and so Mikl\u00f3s followed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Inside, a middle-aged woman, who looked like she had never seen a client walk inside the hall before, sat behind a large counter fidgeting with her hands. She was pale and her clothes were shabby and worn, but she had a smile as wide as her face as she stared at the two of them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The hall was a small room with a rattan sofa in the corner in front of the counter, and, standing next to it, a shelf with newspapers that didn\u2019t all look exactly as new as the name would suggest. The yellow light, a little too dim, and the cloying, intoxicating artificial scent permeating the place made Mikl\u00f3s feel even sleepier.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGo ask for a room, would you?\u201d Alexej said before he turned towards Mikl\u00f3s. Now that his short hair was wet, it stuck to his forehead and to the sides of his face, making him look a bit younger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMe?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t help sounding incredulous. \u201cI have no idea how to do that,\u201d he wanted to say, but he only got as far as the first syllable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou can speak Hungarian, right?\u201d Alexej lowered his head a bit so they were face to face and gently put a hand on his shoulder. Mikl\u00f3s wished he felt as reassured as Alexej looked confident. He bit his lips and diverted his gaze away from Alexej\u2019s face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBut,\u201d he muttered, unsure of what he wanted to ask himself, \u201cwhat do I have to say?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJust explain that we want a room.\u201d Alexej shrugged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His eyes fixed on the dark green cushions of the sofa, Mikl\u00f3s told himself it couldn\u2019t be that hard, after all. Truth was, Mikl\u00f3s had no intention of disappointing his travel companion over something so simple. There was no way around the fact that he needed guidance and, based on what he had seen of him, Alexej was willing to give it, and Mikl\u00f3s wanted anything but to jeopardize that possibility. At the same time, however, after such a hard day, it was difficult to fight the feeling of discouragement that tended to hit him when he approached an obstacle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When Mikl\u00f3s looked back towards Alexej, with a hesitating bundle of questions trying to push its way past his lips, Alexej\u2019s expression mellowed into a smile. \u201cRelax, Miksa,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m right here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And so, just like that, Mikl\u00f3s nodded through his own doubts. He filled the space between himself and the counter with a couple of steps and, leaning on it, he simply did what Alexej told him to do \u2014 although not without a lot of stuttering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The lady behind the counter smiled enthusiastically, and nodded twice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOf course you need a room,\u201d she said, graying hair bobbing up and down at the sides of her head. \u201cLook at you two! The storm must have caught you thoroughly unprepared.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She spoke with a heavy but familiar accent (Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 own Hungarian relatives had a very similar intonation). Her words bubbled out of her red-tinted mouth energetically, and her smile seemed to be an integral part of her face, and yet he wasn\u2019t sure whether she was scolding him or trying to console him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In doubt, he smiled tentatively. \u201cYeah, we got very wet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell, we can give you our warmest twin room so you can dry off properly, what do you say?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s wasn\u2019t really sure what a \u2018twin room\u2019 entailed, and he glanced back towards Alexej. He was next to the shelf, busy intently browsing through the most recent-looking newspaper on it. He didn\u2019t seem to notice Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 nervous stare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cUhm…\u201d Mikl\u00f3s hesitated, turning back towards the woman.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh, maybe you want to sleep in separate rooms?\u201d she asked, tilting her head to one side. \u201cIt\u2019s winter, so all our rooms are vacant. We have these two single rooms that we barely ever–\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s raised his hands over the counter surface, trying to stop the flood of words coming from the woman. \u201cNo, thanks,\u201d he said, half-mumbling. Somehow, it was effective anyway, and she stopped talking. He cleared his throat. \u201cA twin room will do, I think.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh, good.\u201d She turned around and started scanning the numbered key shelf on the wall behind her. \u201cI\u2019ll give you room eight,\u201d she announced, grabbing one of the keys. \u201cIt has a large bathroom and a good view of the woods that I\u2019m sure you boys will like.\u201d She turned back, laying a series of papers on the counter. \u201cIt\u2019s on the first floor, the second door of the right corridor.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThank you.\u201d Mikl\u00f3s nodded, relieved that it hadn\u2019t been as hard as he\u2019d expected, after all. His eyes followed the key in the woman\u2019s hands, his mind already imagining how soft the bed would be and how nice it would feel to finally clean up and enjoy a warm and dry<\/em> sleep. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cI just need a document to complete the registration, now,\u201d the woman explained, holding a pen above one of the papers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His anticipation suddenly burst like a bubble, gone as quickly as it had arrived, and turned into panic. He didn\u2019t have an I.D. \u2014 no one in town got them before they were eighteen \u2014 and what if that was going to get them both in trouble?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The woman\u2019s smile faltered a bit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYour I.D. card, if you please,\u201d she said, once again sounding as if she was trying to scold him, even if her tone was kind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAh, yes\u2026\u201d Mikl\u00f3s forced a smile. \u201cSure. I–\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The familiar hand gently gripping his shoulder was a wave of relief hitting him suddenly, and the emotional rollercoaster left him abruptly drained. He slumped his shoulders forward with a sigh. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019ll have to excuse him, Miss.\u201d Alexej stepped in with a smile that looked charming even though framed by messy hair and dirty clothes. To Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 surprise, his Hungarian was flawless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The woman\u2019s smile seemed suddenly wider.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej threw an arm around Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shoulders and pulled him closer; at that distance, the sweet undertones of his musky scent were even stronger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou see, my brother left his I.D. in the car,\u201d explained Alexej, so earnestly even Mikl\u00f3s felt like he was saying the truth. \u201cI trust mine would do just as well?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOf course!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej let Mikl\u00f3s out of his hold and started patting his own jeans; after a moment, he took out a black leather wallet and leaned against the counter, apparently glancing at the papers the woman meant to fill out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cA passport or a driving license would do, as well,\u201d she explained, pointing at something on it with the pen, and Alexej nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When he opened the wallet and took out the paper, the woman placed the key on the counter. Alexej handed it to Mikl\u00f3s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGo ahead,\u201d he said, pointing at the stairs at the end of the corridor ahead. \u201cI\u2019ll follow you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As he left, Mikl\u00f3s could hear the chatty woman engage Alexej in another enthusiastic conversation. He hoped it wouldn\u2019t take too long.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The warm bath washed away not only the dirt and the cold, but the tension from all the emotions that had attacked his senses in the previous hours. Mikl\u00f3s felt them slowly melt away from his muscles, seep away from his brain through every exhale. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
As the water went from clear to cloudy, in his mind the opposite process occurred. And when the reality of what he had done hit him \u2014 leaving his town, even his country, and with the help and company of a stranger he had just met \u2014 he felt like laughing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What would everyone say if they knew? What were they thinking at that moment? Did they already know that he hadn\u2019t come home? Were they looking for him? What did Boris say when he found out a \u2018coward\u2019 like Mikl\u00f3s had run away? Was Maja worried? What did his father roar, enraged, upon learning his son had escaped his authority? Did his mother finally understand, or did she mindlessly side with her husband yet again? Did Edi know?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Edi would probably understand. Back when he was still living with them, life had been much more bearable, and yet he had been tired. He\u2019d never said so, but Mikl\u00f3s understood anyway. He had been so tired he would have probably done anything to escape that place. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But Edi had been lucky: Their dad hadn\u2019t wanted him to continue his studies, but the promise of money, which having a doctor in the family would bring, convinced him uncharacteristically fast. Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t have the same luck or, to be more exact, the same ability. Edi would see this was Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 only alternative for escaping that place, wouldn\u2019t he?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s blew a bubble out of the soapy water and smiled, exhaling deeply. His mind wandered towards Alexej, who was in the next room waiting for his turn to have a bath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That man was a mystery, and yet such a fascinating one. His resourcefulness left Mikl\u00f3s speechless; it felt as if he always had everything figured out, as if he could make everything he wanted just appear out of thin air, as if he knew anything he would ever need to know and then some. It was like he could have done anything he wanted, without needing anyone\u2019s help.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s wished he was like that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He let himself sink, slide down under the water level so that it muffled the world outside. As he slowly let out the air, his hands feeling the bubbles as they reached the surface, he heard the door opening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He sat up and found Alexej just past the dark wooden door, an expression on his face Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t know how to interpret, his pupils dilated and his hand gripping the door frame. He was holding a couple of towels.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAle\u0161?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s said, confused, before embarrassment fully reached his brain upon realising the situation. He figured it was stupid, but couldn\u2019t help his ears flushing with blood. \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d he added hurriedly, \u201cI\u2019m almost done!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s face softened, his grip on the door frame loosening, and even his shoulders seemed to slump slightly. He was staring into space, and his hair, still messy and dirty from the storm, hung in front of his face, almost reaching his eyes. \u201cI was beginning to get worried about you,\u201d he said, his gaze refocusing as he pointed it towards Mikl\u00f3s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, I\u2019m fine,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s replied promptly, his hands grabbing on to the edge of the bathtub.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej looked around in the bathroom. The room was big, as the owner downstairs had promised; it was white-tiled all over, well-lit, and it had a window on the opposite side from the sink. Alexej eyed a stool under the windowsill and set the towels down on it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou forgot these,\u201d he commented, and then turned, heading for the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou know Hungarian better than I do.\u201d The words, coming out of Mikl\u00f3s as a whisper, stopped Alexej in his tracks, with his back towards the bathtub.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI can speak and understand it, yes.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
With his eyes pointed to the bottom of the tub, Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t see Alexej, but he heard his voice. He couldn\u2019t tell what Alexej\u2019s reaction had been just by its inflection, but he couldn\u2019t find the will to raise his gaze. He felt his heart pump loudly, blood flushing his body red, the thumps echoing in his ears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After a long moment of silence, he heard Alexej step closer, until he was kneeling in front of the tub. Mikl\u00f3s shifted back in the water, stammering, but when he raised his eyes, Alexej seemed completely indifferent to the fact that he was as naked as a jaybird.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat troubles you about it?\u201d he said, softly, his eyes narrowing slightly. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t help but return the other\u2019s piercing gaze; but, soon enough, he directed his glance towards the bottom of the tub. \u201cI thought you didn\u2019t know it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBut I never said that, did I?\u201d Alexej shrugged, and Mikl\u00f3s shook his head, slowly. No, Alexej had never outright said it, but hadn\u2019t he implied it? Or maybe Mikl\u00f3s had wanted to feel useful so badly that he had misinterpreted the other\u2019s words?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIs that why you\u2019re so on edge?\u201d Alexej\u2019s voice sounded worried, and that gave Mikl\u00f3s the little push he needed to ask at least one of the questions on his mind. He took a deep breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAre you doing it out of pity?\u201d he asked. Alexej\u2019s brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed slightly, but Mikl\u00f3s wouldn\u2019t let him talk before he had finished: he was scared he\u2019d lose the momentum and never speak about it again. \u201cHelping me. I thought you were doing it because you needed me, as an exchange of favours, but I\u2019m useless, aren\u2019t I?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 grip on the edge of the tub was so tight, his knuckles were as pale as the tub\u2019s varnish. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej massaged his forehead with one hand, covering his face for a moment. When the hand fell by his side, he was shaking his head. \u201cYou helped me cross the border, or have you forgotten?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, but-\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej got even closer. He leaned forward, against the tub, and took Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 chin in his hand, gently lifting his face. When Mikl\u00f3s met his eyes, he couldn\u2019t look away. There was something in them; they sparkled with an energy that made even his own image reflected in them seem different, somehow radiant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMiksa,\u201d Alexej whispered. \u201cTruth is, traveling alone is boring. Even just by keeping me company, you\u2019re doing something for me.\u201d He smiled, and only then put some distance back between them; it was as if the air itself had a different thickness, now. \u201cBesides, it\u2019s nice to know someone will have your back, isn\u2019t it?\u201d Alexej added as he stood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t think of a reason to argue against that. He only wished he could fully believe that Alexej didn\u2019t think of him as a useless dead weight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ll rest a bit more,\u201d Alexej said, from the doorstep. \u201cYou take your time, alright?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s was sitting up in his bed. The shift from dream \u2014 or, better yet, nightmare \u2014 to reality was so abrupt that it took him several moments to separate one from the other.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No, he wasn\u2019t running from his father\u2019s fury, he wasn\u2019t rushing through familiar fields or climbing trees in order to hide, but he could very well have been, judging from his heart-rate and from how much he had been sweating. Instead, the unfamiliar hotel room he had fallen asleep in, minutes after getting out of the bath, stood before his eyes. Its walls were painted in a pastel tone of green that looked closer to yellow, bathed as it was in the first light of the day filtering through the curtains.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As the memories of the nightmare slipped away through his fingers, reduced to flashes that seemed so obviously unreal, the feeling they arose in him lingered desperately into his guts. Mikl\u00f3s glanced at the nightstand between the two beds; according to the electronic clock, it was six in the morning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The fear and heartache hadn\u2019t yet disappeared when he realised Alexej wasn\u2019t there. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He wasn\u2019t in his bed, left unmade, sheets crumpled at its bottom, and when Mikl\u00f3s, suddenly lucid and awake, stood up to feel the bed with one hand, it was still warm. Mikl\u00f3s felt as if he\u2019d fallen from the depths of his nightmare right into a pit of solitude, and the bad feelings from his dream reignited in his guts. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rubbing sleep out of his eyes, Mikl\u00f3s checked the bathroom. The door stood open, the shy morning sun reflecting against the mirror. Inside, it was colder than the day before, as if a sudden frost had taken over the room. The towels hung by the sink, still soggy, but stiff with the cold air coming from the open window. The woods outside rustled with the cold morning breeze, but told Mikl\u00f3s nothing that he wanted to know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Back in the room, Alexej\u2019s backpack wasn\u2019t next to the entrance anymore, and most of the things he\u2019d laid out on the lone desk of the room were nowhere to be seen. Both flashlights remained, next to a couple of pencils, and three highlighters: pink, green and yellow, like the lines on the map. A discarded, damp change of clothes sat on the chair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s sighed, as he returned to the bed, having run out of places to investigate. With a sigh, he forced his mind back to the evening before, to Alexej\u2019s words reassuring him he wanted some company, that he was happy to have a travel companion. He told himself he\u2019d just gone out for a while.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He wondered if convincing himself that he wouldn\u2019t be left behind would ever get easier.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He sat on Alexej\u2019s bed, back against the wooden headboard, and brought his knees to his chest. The warmth of the sheets felt safe like the thick tree branches in his dreams, where he could take shelter and rest. He thought back to when he was little, to when Edi and he visited the botanical gardens. Mikl\u00f3s loved killing time catching frogs near the pond, but Edi, who had many friends, didn\u2019t want him to spend all his time alone. It was sad, he used to say. So he always made sure that Mikl\u00f3s was a part of their games, pretending not to know that his own friends disliked his brother almost as much as Mikl\u00f3s disliked them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
They played a lot of hide and seek. When they did, Mikl\u00f3s hid so well that no one, except his brother, ever managed to find him. Mikl\u00f3s used to curl up in his place and wait for Edi, and he sometimes even spent a full hour like that. He didn\u2019t mind, however. He didn\u2019t care if no one ever found him, as long as he knew Edi would come for him eventually.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ironically, he thought, wasn\u2019t that very similar to what he was doing right then? He had been pushed into the game \u2014 by his parents; by people in town never believing his words enough to offer him any help, except the advice to go back to his father\u2019s anger; by Alexej, appearing at just the right moment and driving him out of his own will\u2019s slumber \u2014 and now he had to play. Now, he ran and hid from everyone, and he didn\u2019t miss them, and he could only hope to escape them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This time, Edi wouldn\u2019t come for him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Back when he was little, that would have felt devastating; it would have sent him into a panic, plunged him down the deepest well and filled it with salty tears. Mikl\u00f3s had never thought it was possible, had never thought Edi would leave him behind. Not until he did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He\u2019d always been sure Edi would come for him; he\u2019d always curled in his place and dutifully waited for the moment when Edi\u2019s face, his short, messy dirty-blond hair, would peek into his hiding place, and they would exchange a wide, complicit smile. Then, one day, Edi left. He had made sure to discuss the matter of his studies always when Mikl\u00f3s was out of earshot, always in secret, away from him. He\u2019d only informed Mikl\u00f3s that he was leaving the night before he did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That night \u2014 Mikl\u00f3s remembered it so clearly, it was as if he was dreaming it \u2014 Edi had sat on the edge of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 bed to tuck him in. He\u2019d kissed his forehead and had whispered against it, without looking Mikl\u00f3s in the eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTomorrow, I\u2019m leaving for the city,\u201d he\u2019d said. \u201cI\u2019ll study to become a doctor. Like I said I wanted to, remember?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Edi\u2019s voice had been kind and sad, and even when Mikl\u00f3s had turned away offering no answer, Edi\u2019s hands had still brushed the hair away from his face, his lips had still murmured goodnight. That, however, didn\u2019t mean Mikl\u00f3s would forgive him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Now, curled up in his new hiding place, Mikl\u00f3s waited. He realised, right then, that there was one single person he wanted to be found by; there was finally someone else, someone new he cared about. If that used to be Edi, until a year before, that might be the only difference, because now, arms wrapped around himself, the person he was waiting for was Alexej.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
New clothes, the ones bought in shops, had a distinctive smell. Mikl\u00f3s found out when, later that morning, Alexej came back to their room, his smile as bright as it always seemed to be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s had been waiting for him since dawn, when he\u2019d first opened his eyes to an empty room. Slipping in and out of sleep, with nothing to do but stare at the canopy of that winter morning, Mikl\u00f3s had patiently remained in their room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The color of the walls felt like it was impressed indelibly in his mind by then, after how long he had been staring at it. The curtains, with green floral patterns, were slightly yellowed by time and dust, while the simple wooden furniture (a couple of chairs and a table placed under the window) looked as if it had barely ever been used.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
By the time Alexej came back, nothing had changed. Nothing, except the sky outside, so clear one would never have guessed there had been a storm just the day before, getting brighter and brighter as the sun rose from the horizon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And when it got high enough and stood proudly at the zenith of that too-blue expanse, Mikl\u00f3s heard the door open, and Alexej walked in with bags in his hands, a wide smile, and eyes the same color as the sky. He arrived right when Mikl\u00f3s, still sitting on the bed with arms wrapped around himself, had almost started thinking that maybe he should go out to look for him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Miklos\u2018 first thought was that, somewhere inside him, he\u2019d known<\/em> Alexej would come for him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cAle\u0161!\u201d he exclaimed, practically jumping to his feet. The nickname hiccuped out of his mouth, almost as if it didn\u2019t want to leave and expose the nervousness it was born of. \u201cWelcome back,\u201d he added then, the hesitation from a moment before faded in favour of relief \u2014 relief that he hadn’t been left behind, once again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s barely knew Alexej, but right then he felt that this man he\u2019d met by chance was the one who would always find his way back to him, no matter what. That, just like with Edi when they played hide and seek, if he waited long enough Alexej would be back. The thought itself felt ridiculous, sappy and maybe even stupid, and yet Mikl\u00f3s wanted nothing but to indulge in that foolish fantasy, if only for a moment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s was walking up to Alexej, was hurrying to welcome him properly, even before the door was closed behind him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej put down all the things he was carrying: his backpack, a thin plastic bag containing water bottles and stuffed bread, a big paper bag with an unfamiliar logo on it. Mikl\u00f3s waited patiently, shifting from foot to foot, hands behind his back, one clasped in the other. Under the coat Alexej took off, he was wearing a striped shirt and a grey cardigan he had never worn before and that he hadn\u2019t been carrying in his backpack.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before Mikl\u00f3s could do anything else \u2014 he really just wanted to hug him tightly, and Alexej didn\u2019t even have to know why \u2014 Alexej handed him the paper bag, distractedly. As he did, his attention was caught by Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 things still scattered all over the room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe\u2019re leaving,\u201d he announced.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s stared at the bag in his hands, and at the distance between them he hadn\u2019t found the readiness to fill. \u201cWhat is this?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej didn\u2019t reply right away. He turned towards Mikl\u00f3s, his eyebrows furrowed. He had light circles under his eyes that his fair skin couldn\u2019t hide, and his hair was messier than before. \u201cA bag of clothes,\u201d he explained. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s opened it, just slightly, and confirmed that they were, in fact, a pair of jeans, a shirt, and an orange sweater. That didn\u2019t really clarify much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey\u2019re for you,\u201d Alexej added. He passed a hand through his own hair, brushing it back away from his face. \u201cWear them, would you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was as if Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t grasp the meaning of the words straight away. His chest swelled as if a hole in it had been suddenly filled too much, but it took the longest moment before the reason for that reaction consciously hit him. However, maybe because of the overwhelming pressure around his lungs, as if his ribcage was threatening to crush on itself, or maybe because he just couldn\u2019t think of anything better to say, Mikl\u00f3s could only whisper his thanks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He did wear them right after that. Because Alexej had asked, and because he could barely resist the temptation to try on something that had been bought with him in mind, and no one else, something he felt he truly owned. He put the clothes on hurriedly, running into the bathroom to take a deep breath, and to hide his flushed face from Alexej\u2019s calm gaze. He knew his reaction probably looked exaggerated to Alexej, and so he tried to hide it. He didn\u2019t want to come off as annoying, or obnoxious. But in the privacy of the bathroom, he took the time to squeeze the soft clothes, to hold them to his chest and bury his face in them, and to snicker at the way the wool of the sweater lifted the hair on his head with static electricity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His new pair of jeans, that sweater Alexej had brought him, they weren\u2019t quite as soft as old, worn-out fabric usually was. He realised while touching them, wearing them, that they were in no way like the second-hand clothes his brother had passed down to him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
New clothes hadn\u2019t yielded to time yet, and they still fiercely preserved their stiffness; they had a certain unkindness to them, as if they didn\u2019t really want to stick to the body that was wearing them. Their smell was the same, an unfriendly, ersatz odor that didn\u2019t belong on people.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But no matter how distasteful the smell might be, no matter how different they were from what he was used to wearing, those clothes would yield to him, would stretch and soften, would model themselves to fit him better. They were his and his alone. There was no trace of someone else on them, no memories in its weft of someone who had left him behind, someone Mikl\u00f3s just wanted to forget.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s wrapped himself into those clothes as if they could protect him from the world, as if they were his new hiding place to curl up into during this new game of hide and seek.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
*** <\/p>\n\n\n\n
They left the hotel when the sun was still high and warm. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The building looked much more welcoming than it had when they first saw it. The same young man from the day before was now cleaning the stables, and the chatty counter woman, who didn\u2019t shrink from waving them farewell, was loudly giving him instructions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The nearby woods looked cheerful, even with the trees bared by the season. It was almost as if the friendly chirping of birds had changed its colors. Even the fields all around, however naked and empty, looked alive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The muddy ground from the day before had hardened into a dust road they could walk on without getting their clothes drenched with water and dirt. Alexej, carrying bags in addition to his backpack, led their way to the car with a quick pace \u2014 and maybe Mikl\u00f3s could understand his eagerness to leave, when the day was such a nice one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The light blue chassis of the car was covered in dried mud, especially near the wheels, but the sturdy and reliable vehicle \u2014 a long sedan with a streamlined front and spacious interiors \u2014 looked otherwise unscathed. The trunk was big, all things considered, even if not as large as the pickup Mikl\u00f3s was used to loading when he helped out his father. Their two backpacks didn\u2019t even come close to filling it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s automatically headed for the back seats; the leather they were covered in, of which he remembered the smell, was worn out and torn at some points, the foam filling showing here and there. A couple of local newspapers lay in a corner, but Miksa, who wasn\u2019t really practised in reading Hungarian, didn\u2019t manage to make out the headlines.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His hand was already on the handle, when Alexej grabbed his wrist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe passenger seat is empty,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The wind brushed his messy blond locks away from his forehead, and for a moment, that was the only thing that moved. When Alexej loosened the grip on his wrist, a shiver jolted up Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 arm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI need your help with the map.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Once they were both inside, sitting next to each other, Alexej brought the car whirring to life, and before long, its engine was humming through the Hungarian countryside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The view wasn\u2019t much different from the Slovenian landscapes Mikl\u00f3s was used to, saturated with fields and woods; on the contrary, it felt quite familiar, and if he hadn\u2019t been looking at the map, he wouldn\u2019t have been able to tell most roads apart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej wanted them to follow only the smallest and most isolated paths they could find; as a result, the car traveled slowly through dirt roads, and they only ever saw people when they passed close enough to a farm. At such a pace it would take hours, if not days, to reach the closest city.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The radio on the dashboard lost its signal frequently in that area, so Mikl\u00f3s had to retune it from time to time. In between the buzzing from the disturbed signal, it played the same popular Russian songs Mikl\u00f3s was used to hearing when he stayed home and kept his mother company.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They reminded him of the peaceful moments, when it was cold outside and he was sick, so he was allowed to stay home, or those days when it snowed plenty and he and his brother couldn\u2019t go out to play, so Edi used to come up with all kinds of games to keep them busy. On those days, the radio was the constant buzzing in the background, and their mother, who seemed to learn each song by heart after only listening to it once, sometimes sang along.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He must have had a distracted expression, or maybe even a sad one, if it reflected the unpleasant swelling sensation in his guts. He thought he did because, right when those thoughts were crossing his mind, Alexej interrupted their comfortable silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve never slept away from home before, have you?\u201d he asked. He only glanced at Mikl\u00f3s for a moment, but he seemed so concerned<\/em>. Mikl\u00f3s had trouble wrapping his mind around that expression.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve never been away from home this long, no,\u201d he confessed, sinking deeply in his seat and looking towards Alexej. He had a relaxed posture \u2014 one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear \u2014 and it felt as if he was used to driving for long hours like these. Mikl\u00f3s could see why he would need company. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey must be worried about you,\u201d murmured Alexej, so softly Mikl\u00f3s almost missed it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy parents?\u201d he laughed bitterly. In the corner of his eye, he caught Alexej turning towards him with raised eyebrows and a question on his lips, but he spoke first. \u201cI don\u2019t think they are.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His mother\u2019s voice was the sweetest thing about her, and she sang like a morning bird in the heart of spring; his father\u2019s voice was bitter and rough, to the point Mikl\u00f3s used to think it would have ruined his wife\u2019s songs eventually. He could not imagine either of those voices turning into sobs in his absence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A fork of the road appeared ahead, and Mikl\u00f3s checked the map for the right direction. He only needed a gesture of his hand to pass the information along. Alexej nodded, and for several seconds silence fell again, filling the cabin like a tub of water.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t believe they\u2019re looking for you?\u201d Alexej glanced at him again, his lips slimming in a straight line as his words bubbled upwards like an exhale underwater.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s hesitated. Never before he had tried to speak his mind about his parents, and he had to take his time, first staring at Alexej\u2019s hand on the wheel and then at his face, before a sigh finally marked his decision. To Alexej, he could disclose all kinds of things, with no reason to fear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey may be looking,\u201d he conceded, \u201cbut it\u2019s not because they\u2019re worried.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked away as he spoke, but somehow Alexej\u2019s clenched jaw still didn\u2019t escape his sight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTry it!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s eyed the tall glass of beer the other had pushed in front of him, but was hesitant even to touch it. Behind it, Alexej, his own glass in hand, smiled as if he was having the time of his life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The diner they were in \u2014 not very popular, judging from the number of people in it \u2014 was a lonely building in the middle of a gas station with, according to Alexej, the smallest menu such an establishment could ever be allowed to have. Despite that, an hour before, they had sat down and ordered whatever looked most desirable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know, Ale\u0161.\u201d Mikl\u00f3s hesitated, as the foam of the drink standing before him slowly grew thinner. \u201cI\u2019m too young to drink alcohol,\u201d he added, whispering \u2014 unnecessarily, since the waitress on the other side of the room didn\u2019t seem interested in their conversation at all. \u201cWhat if we get in trouble?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLet me be the one to worry about that.\u201d Alexej smirked, the radiant quality of his expression making it twice as hard to say no. \u201cBesides, aren\u2019t you curious?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s inhaled deeply, looking down at the plastic table that separated the two of them and at the empty plates on it. Of course, he was curious.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No one was looking at them. The only other customer in there was an old man that had been staring stubbornly at the table in front of him since he first sat down, and the waitress was enraptured by whatever they were showing in the small black-and-white TV positioned on the counter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI am, but…\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej was slouched on the seat, his gaze fixed on the golden drink swirling inside his glass. His eyes followed the slow circular movement of his hand. When Mikl\u00f3s hesitated, biting back his own words, Alexej glanced up, and their eyes met. \u201cBut?\u201d he encouraged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s glared at the drink as if it could whisper an answer. Truth was, he was half-scared he wouldn\u2019t like it \u2014 he would be quite the party pooper, in that case \u2014 and half-worried he might end up liking it a bit too much \u2014 that couldn’t be good, could it? \u201cI shouldn\u2019t,\u201d he said, settling on the answer that seemed the most harmless, and the simplest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej shifted in his seat, straightening his back, and gulped down more of his drink. \u201cWho says that?\u201d he asked. He put down his half-empty glass on the surface between them and sighed. Elbows on the table, he leaned forward, resting his head on his hands. \u201cYou shouldn\u2019t have run away from home, correct?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s looked away, back against his seat, and started fidgeting with his hands, behind the glass. Something twisted in his guts as he nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd I shouldn\u2019t have helped you, and we shouldn\u2019t travel without your I.D.\u201d Alexej\u2019s hand moved the glasses aside before taking Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 chin between his fingers and pushing it up, to look him in the eyes. \u201cWe shouldn\u2019t even know each other,\u201d he continued, his hand now leaving the other\u2019s face to clasp Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 restless one. \u201cBut we do, and the world hasn\u2019t ended yet, it seems.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d was all Mikl\u00f3s could utter, in the middle of a fight between his inexplicably watering eyes and the gratitude swelling in his throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFor what?\u201d Alexej arched an eyebrow. \u201cMeeting me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s replied, hurriedly. Alexej\u2019s hand on his own was relaxed and warm. \u201cNo, of course not,\u201d he whispered. He wasn\u2019t sure why he was even sorry, but he felt like saying it again and again, until he had been forgiven for whatever was making him feel that bad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen stop apologising,\u201d said Alexej, kindly. He rubbed his hand through Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hair, ruffling it, then slid the full glass back in front of him. \u201cAnd, please, relax.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s ended up liking how beer tasted. Not too much, but enough to drink as much as Alexej did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The woods were cold and confusing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His attention continuously wavering, just like the flashlight in his hand, Mikl\u00f3s wasn\u2019t even sure which direction they were walking in, or how long he had been putting foot after foot on the irregular ground that had caused him to stumble way too many times. However, for some reason, he trusted his instincts to guide him towards the place they were looking for.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Behind him, Alexej sometimes suggested a different direction but mostly followed, keeping both of them busy with conversation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was the first time, since they had started traveling together, that Alexej had spoken so much, for so long, and if Mikl\u00f3s was unsure about where the conversation had started, or if he didn\u2019t completely understand Alexej\u2019s commentaries on piano sonatas, that didn\u2019t really matter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His hazy mind felt peacefully empty, and he enjoyed just letting Alexej\u2019s voice fill it with words, with his ideas on how Schumann\u2019s Kinderszenen<\/em> were \u2018incredible works\u2019, \u2018undoubtedly some of the best piano pieces ever written\u2019, and on how complex he thought it was to get them just right while playing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cPlay them for me, one day,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s said, mindlessly. It was as if there was no gap between his mind and his mouth, no separation between thinking thoughts and formulating them: It was somehow liberating.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej fell silent for a moment, and stopped. In front of them, not more than one hundred metres from where they stood, the clearing they had been looking for opened between the trees. Despite his drowsiness, Mikl\u00f3s found that he really didn\u2019t want to rest just yet: he would have much prefered listening to Alexej for a bit more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He halted in his steps as well, turning back towards the other. Alexej was leaning against a tree, flashlight turned off, face hidden behind his arm. \u201cNo one\u2019s ever asked me that,\u201d he commented, his tone deadpan, as he started to walk again until he had caught up with Mikl\u00f3s, filling the space between them in a couple of long steps.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDoes that mean you\u2019ll do it?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s offered a wide smile but, underneath it, a foreboding feeling crawled, slithered in his guts, and he suddenly felt aware of time ticking away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej, eyes indistinguishable in the dim light, didn\u2019t reply right away. He fiddled with his flashlight but didn\u2019t turn it back on. \u201cI\u2019m not sure I\u2019ll get the chance to,\u201d he finally sighed, turning towards the clearing in the woods. His fists, stuffed deep in his pockets, clenched inside his coat when he smirked. \u201cAfter all, tonight–\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt would mean a lot to me,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s interrupted, feeling the words bubble out of his mouth before he even realised he was thinking them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For some reason, that seemed to sound terribly hilarious to Alexej \u2014 but his laugh lacked the warmth Mikl\u00f3s was used to hearing in it. He didn\u2019t even try to notice Alexej\u2019s expression as he turned; the sudden coldness he felt surely wasn\u2019t due to the still air of that night. For him, panic usually resulted in a complete paralysis of his thoughts, but that time, his mind brimmed with words as loud as screams.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou really have no idea, do you?\u201d Alexej said, getting so close Mikl\u00f3s could recognize his scent. Musky and sweet. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s really didn\u2019t have any idea about many things but, in the space of a moment, the biggest cause for confusion (in that remote corner of his brain that was somehow still lucid) was his own arms wrapping around Alexej\u2019s waist, as his own flashlight touched the ground with a thud. \u201cThank you, Ale\u0161,\u201d he said, he muttered with his face plunged into Alexej\u2019s soft clothes, with his nose flooded by his scent. He would have felt as if someone else was doing all of that, if his heart hadn\u2019t been beating so fast it roared in his ears. He knew it was his own heartbeat and his own ears and his own body, the one that was moving, and yet it felt alien, as if he was in a dream, as if the drowsiness from minutes before had finally won over his brain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He heard the question, pronounced with a certain unease, echo in Alexej\u2019s chest, and in his own bones as he clung to Alexej tighter, hands grasping each other. He felt, with clarity, as if it was his last chance to put his gratitude into words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI never would have left that town if it weren\u2019t for you,\u201d he whispered, eyes squeezed tight against fabric, barely aware of the words slurring, garbling between his teeth. \u201cI never would have actually run. It might have been a small thing for you, but it changed my life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Wasn\u2019t he pitiful, wasn\u2019t he pathetic? Of course Alexej would want to leave him behind, wouldn\u2019t he? And if he had lied when he said he enjoyed Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 company, Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 couldn\u2019t hold that against him; on the contrary, he was grateful for that, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf you want us to go our separate ways, that\u2019s fine,\u201d he lied, \u201cbut I wanted to tell you this, first.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej was motionless, as calm as his controlled breathing and as quiet as that windless night. The stiff muscles of his back, and his arms hanging by his sides, felt so absurdly far away. More than hesitant, Alexej seemed reluctant, as if he wanted nothing but to break free of that grasp \u2014 Mikl\u00f3s realised it, was aware of it, and yet couldn\u2019t bring himself to let go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Slowly, ever so slowly, so much that behind Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 closed eyelids it seemed like an hour had passed, Alexej\u2019s arms returned a soft hug, circling Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shoulders. He brushed his fingers through Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hair as his breath changed its rhythm, fluctuated as if disturbed by thoughts. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The smallest laugh, warmer than before, blossomed from Alexej\u2019s throat. Mikl\u00f3s felt it vibrate through his chest until, Alexej\u2019s hands separated them from each other.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t expect you to say that,\u201d Alexej finally said, and even in the pale moonlight, with the flashlight on the ground pointing in the wrong direction, Mikl\u00f3s could recognise the curve of a smile on his features.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNeither did I,\u201d murmured Mikl\u00f3s, his voice vibrating in a way that could maybe resemble a laugh, but was mostly born of the insatiable ache in his chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej was still close, and now that the hug had been broken, the closeness felt excessive \u2014 almost intimidating, when Alexej bowed his head so that they were face-to-face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIs it really fine?\u201d he asked in a breath still sweetened by alcohol, his eyes wide, his eyebrows raised. His hand gripped the collar of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shirt, pushing him one step back against a tree. \u201cIf we go our separate ways, would that really be okay with you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the rhythm of his relentless heartbeat, his drowsiness had almost cleared away, and Mikl\u00f3s felt undoubtedly awake, despite still feeling slow, confused as if every thought was taking way too long to cross his mind. But that tiredness, rather than disappearing, seemed to have turned into nausea gripping his guts, an invisible hand whose fingers sank deeper at each word Alexej said. And the man\u2019s eyes, those bright blue twin skies Mikl\u00f3s could barely make out in that light, were so hard to decipher, and impossible to look away from.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI-If that\u2019s what you want,\u201d he muttered, just hoping that the crease between Alexej\u2019s eyebrows would disappear and the tension in his jaw would fade away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej didn\u2019t loosen his grip and, instead, the breath he exhaled was shattered and as sharp as glass as it turned into words. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat if I asked you to wait here for me, without moving,\u201d Alexej demanded again,\u201cwhat if I told you to stay here exactly where you are, no matter how long it takes for me to get back? Would you do it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s could imagine himself doing that; he could see his own figure sitting at the base of that tree and watching the sun cruise the sky until it hid behind the horizon once again, and he could already feel the torment, that single question drilling itself into the matter of his thoughts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWould you really come back?\u201d he asked then, voicing the question, as he felt tears well up in his eyes, as he swallowed as hard as he could and squeezed his eyelids together in the attempt to make them disappear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t you trust me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even with Alexej\u2019s fist keeping him pinned against the hard bark of a spruce, the answer seemed obvious. \u201cI do,\u201d sighed Mikl\u00f3s, opening his eyes again, hoping the night would hide their wetness. \u201cIf you say you\u2019ll come back, I know you will.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was then, and only then, that Alexej\u2019s grasp loosened and set him free. Mikl\u00f3s kept his balance with less difficulty than he had anticipated, and all that was left for him to do was to stand, back against the tree, and wait.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In front of him, Alexej took a deep breath. He sighed, kneeling down to pick up the flashlight Mikl\u00f3s had let fall earlier, what seemed like hours before. As the light source moved, pointed towards the space between them, Mikl\u00f3s recognised a smile on the other\u2019s face, one of those soft and pensive expressions Alexej was prone to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAre you aware of how entertaining you are?\u201d Alexej said, holding out the flashlight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s accepted it with hesitant hands; his nausea was slowly subsiding and the ache in his chest felt less and less pronounced. \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d he asked, his mind still dozing off, thoughts almost inert; they moved as if walking through a marsh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s not important.\u201d Alexej shook his head and turned on his own flashlight, towards the direction they were coming from. \u201cIt\u2019s a bit cold to sleep outside,\u201d he explained. \u201cI think we should head back to the car.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 gaze moved from Alexej \u2014 his fair skin looked almost ethereal under the moonlight, and his lips looked wet and reddened, as if he had bitten them too hard \u2014 to the quiet, indifferent forest around them, smelling of dry resin and pine needles. \u201cSo I don\u2019t have to wait for you here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej laughed, wrapping an arm around Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shoulder. \u201cNo, of course, you don\u2019t,\u201d he whispered, breath warm against Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 ear. Mikl\u00f3s felt the arm around his shoulders pull him closer, and Alexej rested his chin on Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 head. \u201cOn the contrary, Miksa, I\u2019d prefer if you\u2019d never leave my sight from now on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His face buried in the crook of the other\u2019s neck, Miksa smiled widely as he breathed in the smell of sweat, and felt Alexej\u2019s words vibrate in his throat. His memories from that night ended up being as hazy as his brain was, but he didn\u2019t forget those words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2014\u2014\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n
iii. freeze us both in time<\/em><\/h2>\n\n\n\nThe days that followed were spent in the car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The roads rolled quickly past the windows, which were sometimes left open to let the winter air in, and over the humming of the engine, the landscape continuously transformed, only to stay ever the same. They often just sat in silence, or talked about nothing over the sound of classical music cassettes (Alexej seemed to have a budding collection of these hidden somewhere); Alexej smoked his cigarettes, filling the car with the smell of nicotine and ash, and Mikl\u00f3s gave directions and kept an eye on gas stations to stop at. When Alexej wasn\u2019t tired, or was in the right mood, they had long conversations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
From him, Mikl\u00f3s discovered the interesting side of literature he had missed at school; he learned about philosophy and sometimes even science. Alexej explained how Dostoevsky used to be a gambling addict and used his writing to pay off his own debts, told him all kinds of stories about Russian writers persecuted by the government and forced to leave the country, explained the ideas of Hobbes, Marx, Stirner, and occasionally turned out to be very opinionated about politics and the Jugoslavian situation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s knew next to nothing about all of those things, so their conversations ended up being mostly one-sided. He asked question upon question, fascinated but sometimes also disheartened by the large, seemingly unbridgeable, gap between their knowledge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Along the road, that grey snake crawling endlessly under the wheels of the car, they stopped several times a day. They ate stuffed sandwiches and Hungarian food Mikl\u00f3s had never tasted before, in roadside diners that always had something different. Some were bright with colours and crowded with people, and some looked so grey and empty it was a surprise the owners themselves were there at all, but all of them had one thing in common, and it was the fact that no one, client or shopkeeper, looked at them twice. Even during their frequent stops at gas stations, where Alexej bought him sweets, from time to time, and sometimes picked out a new cassette or a book, the interactions they had with clerks and attendants were so impersonal that Mikl\u00f3s felt as if the two of them lived on a whole separate layer of reality and could only interact with ghostly impressions of people.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But, instead of feeling alienating, it was as if every cycle of the sun, every town they passed, was a lost shackle, a broken chain of the past he had left behind. And because it was just the two of them, no other restraint was formed to take their place, no one tried to hold them back, to make them stay behind. Mikl\u00f3s felt as if they were only bound to each other and every other relationship, rule, or opinion didn\u2019t matter at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At night, when the moon rose high up in the starred sky, and the sluggish yellow lights of the car seemed as sleepy as Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 heavy eyelids, they always stopped. Alexej parked by the side of the road, among the trees or sometimes on a lay-by.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They slept in the car, Mikl\u00f3s curled up on the back seat and Alexej sitting behind the wheel, his seat tilted back only slightly. He kept the cabin light or his own flashlight on until late in the night, illuminating the pages of one of his books. Mikl\u00f3s never saw him fall asleep, nor did he ever wake up before him in the morning, for Alexej always started driving when the morning was grey and foggy and Mikl\u00f3s was still curled up under his coat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The evening of their fifth day of uninterrupted travel, when the stiff muscles of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 back whined painfully as he lay on the run-down leather, and he couldn\u2019t seem to fall asleep, he finally asked Alexej what he was reading. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s could see the other\u2019s blond locks of hair and the handsome profile of his face, only mildly roughed by a light unkempt beard; when he murmured the question, it took Alexej the longest moment to draw his eyes away from the page.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The owls in the surrounding woods hooted at each other loudly, while Alexej, in the dimly-lit cabin that felt like the only piece of humanity left in the middle of that cloudless night, browsed through the worn-out pages, looking for something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He didn\u2019t offer any explanation, and started reading out loud instead. His voice was full-toned and soothing, and Mikl\u00f3s, tired eyelids resting, simply listened, slowly drifting to sleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt was clear that he must not now suffer passively,<\/em>\u201d Alexej was reading as Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 mind wandered away, \u201cworrying himself over unsolved questions, but that he must do something, do it at once, and do it quickly. Anyway he must decide on something, or else\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201c\u2018Or throw up life altogether!\u2019 he cried suddenly, in a frenzy \u2014 \u2018accept one\u2019s lot humbly as it is, once for all and stifle everything in oneself, giving up all claim to activity, life and love!\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201c\u2018Do you understand, sir, do you understand what it means when you have absolutely nowhere to turn?\u2019 Marmeladov\u2019s question came suddenly into his mind, \u2018for every man must have somewhere to turn.\u2026\u2019<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nMikl\u00f3s never heard the continuation, much less the end of the passage, but, as his consciousness floated away, he felt somehow reassured. Maybe it was because of Alexej\u2019s voice, or maybe because the struggle those words expressed didn\u2019t belong to him any longer \u2014 or maybe those reasons were one and the same.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That night, he dreamed of indecipherable maps, of tangled yellow, green and pink lines, of thick red walls in the middle of a forest and of sky blue eyes. He woke up when the car was still parked at the side of the road; Alexej leaned against the window of his seat, smoking a cigarette.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It took them another two days before they reached the city highlighted on the map, whose topography Mikl\u00f3s had been peeking at for days now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After what amounted to more than a week on the road, Alexej didn\u2019t seem to have suffered the hardships of the long drive as much as Mikl\u00f3s had. Except for his unkempt state, he didn\u2019t even look that tired.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s, on the other hand, bore the signs of the exhausting rhythm of their journey in the circles steadily forming under his eyes, in his stiffened back and in the messy state of his hair, everywhere but in that smile he could find no way to hide after seeing the first city lights, on the evening of the eighth day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hotels in this town were supposed to be more luxurious than the previous one \u2014 that was what Alexej said. As far as Mikl\u00f3s was concerned, he wasn\u2019t sure he would be able to tell the difference; at that point, any bed would have seemed to him the softest ever created.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The shops and bars\u2019 neon lights painted the sidewalk with pinks and blues, and people, plenty of them, passed by without even looking twice. The sun had set hours before, when they arrived at the hotel, and the dark sky that now hung over them with the promise of a clear night was far less starry than it should have been.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was a sudden contrast: it felt all but outside of the realm of possibility that the trees, the fields, and the empty dust roads would lead them to such a place. Mikl\u00f3s had never been in the city, in any city whatsoever, and, as they drove towards that one, the transition of the landscape had been nowhere near subtle. Tall buildings had started sliding past the car window without notice, as the suddenly large and brightly lit streets filled with people and sounds: just as in spring, the tree branches woke up laden with flowers in the space of a night, so did the city bloom in less than one kilometre.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even then, long after dinnertime, after they had both gotten cleaned up and changed, the streets were crowded and bustling, and the buildings hid the moon behind their high roofs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej trod the sidewalk, perfectly at ease with the explosion of life around him, and Mikl\u00f3s hurried behind him with sweaty palms. The rolled-down shutters seemed to be a popular gathering place, and small groups sat smoking and chatting on the front steps of each closed shop. The pubs and bars were filled to the brim, to the point it was almost surprising to look up and not see the sun crown the peak of the sky.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
With his attention divided between the ever-changing stimuli from the unfamiliar surroundings and his attempt to stay at Alexej\u2019s heels, Mikl\u00f3s stumbled on nothing, only saved by Alexej\u2019s quick reflexes and the warmth of his grasp.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBe careful,\u201d Alexej said, his gaze focused on something else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s gripped the edge of Alexej\u2019s coat with one hand, as Alexej continued making his way through the crowded sidewalk. It was, admittedly, not that hard to walk, and perhaps what seemed like an incredible crowd to Mikl\u00f3s \u2014 so much he felt his lungs squeezed in his chest, as if there wasn\u2019t enough air \u2014 was normal for a city that big.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When they stopped, Mikl\u00f3s almost stepping on Alexej\u2019s heels, Mikl\u00f3s was crumpling a corner of Alexej\u2019s coat, nervously gripping it as if holding on for dear life. Alexej must have noticed, for his fair, smooth hand closed around Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 grip, delicately loosening it until he finally let go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s looked up and saw the city lights reflected in Alexej\u2019s blue irises, but his gaze was directed somewhere else. He let his arm fall down by his side and looked around, too, trying to see, to understand what had managed to steal those eyes\u2019 attention. Having Alexej\u2019s focus be anything other than himself, Mikl\u00f3s realised, made him feel uneasy, as if something gnawed at his guts, as if the food in his stomach had developed its own will and was running around into his body.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow do you like it?\u201d Alexej asked with a smile, finally looking at him. \u201cThe city.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The neon lights mirrored in his clear eyes were like purple spots on his irises, and his face looked unnaturally coloured \u2014 the greens, the blues and the pinks all mixed upon it, as if he was the canvas for some strange art. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s… bright.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s had thought the city would be exciting, mesmerizing; now that he had finally seen it he found himself thinking anything but that, finding it scary, suffocating and cold. However, reflected on Alexej\u2019s face, even the sharp city lights looked comfortable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej smiled that smile Mikl\u00f3s had only seen directed at himself, and without notice he took Mikl\u00f3s by the hand, his palm soft, warm and familiar, and pulled him along, leading the way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Surprise seized Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 chest and pleasantly bubbled in his lungs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When they finally left the streets, it was in favour of a slightly less crowded place, with a sign not as colourful as the others, but not muted enough to be anywhere near inconspicuous.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Inside, a large room opened before them, lights and walls all in tones of white, metal tables all around, mostly occupied by well dressed people that didn\u2019t look as young as most of those in the streets outside. In a corner, a man with grey hair and a blue suit played a classical piece on the upright piano. The chatter of the bar\u2019s patrons filled the room like the constant buzzing of the car\u2019s engine had filled the cabin when Mikl\u00f3s and Alexej travelled, and, just like the sound of the engine, it wasn\u2019t anywhere near loud enough to drown out the music.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej led the two of them towards a table in the corner on the far side, not too distant from the piano \u2014 in fact, close enough that Mikl\u00f3s could see the old man\u2019s wrinkled but agile hands move across the keyboard \u2014 but far enough to be somewhat private.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The table, small and much cleaner than those diner counters Mikl\u00f3s had gotten used to during that past week, was only occupied by a drink menu.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s sat on one of the two chairs, looking around. His colourful sweater and his pair of jeans looked unforgivably out of place, and he didn\u2019t feel like he himself could fit in, either, not even if he were to dress up. He felt the gazes of the people all around them sting his nape, needles pricking at it as if looking to draw blood. These people did not feel like shadows, not at all: they looked at Mikl\u00f3s and Alexej as if they actually saw them, as if they were wondering who they were, why they were there, as if judging their clothes, their hair, the way they moved, talked and acted; and Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t imagine those judgements could be positive, at least when it came to himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Without realising, he was sinking his nails into the skin of his palms, as deep as those invisible needles, when Alexej stood up. \u201cI\u2019ll be right back,\u201d he said, and he left, just like that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As Mikl\u00f3s sat in loneliness, the feeling of being out of place only got stronger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Of course Mikl\u00f3s waited, against a burning urge telling him to leave, go anywhere else, go be next to Alexej so that the weight in his stomach would be lifted by his presence. Alexej had said Mikl\u00f3s was to never leave his side, and Mikl\u00f3s still remembered how his breath had smelled when he said that, his low tone of voice and the warmth of his hold pulling Mikl\u00f3s close. He wanted it to be like that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej was walking towards the counter, and he stopped halfway, spoke to a girl: fair-haired, young-faced, her uniform suggested she was a waitress. After what seemed like a discussion \u2014 words, mute in the distance, going back and forth between them, Alexej occasionally flashing his best smile at her hesitant expression \u2014 they finally separated, and Alexej headed back towards the side of the room where their table was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The brown jacket he was wearing was maybe a bit too loose (Mikl\u00f3s could see how it hung off his frame) and it almost completely hid the sleeves of the white shirt he had on underneath; yet, seeing how Alexej wore it, one would have said it was a stylistic choice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej approached the piano right when the last notes of the song that had been playing in the background, a forgettable instrumental piece, resonated in the room. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He raised his eyes, and it took him just a moment to find Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 and just as long to melt the ice shards in his chest, to wordlessly reassure him, even just a little. It was enough, however, for Mikl\u00f3s to stop obsessing about the gazes he couldn\u2019t help feeling pointed at himself, to acknowledge the waitress from before, serving two tall glasses of beer at his table, and to thank her before she left.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
From behind his beer, Mikl\u00f3s saw Alexej lean forward, exchange whispered words with the pianist, put his hands together in a pleading manner, and bow slightly when the old man took his wrinkled hands away from the keyboard and left the stool. The pianist pulled a chair and sat close by, as Alexej took his seat behind the piano, and even without an elegant midnight blue suit, he looked as if he was meant to be right there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before Alexej\u2019s hands touched the black and white keys, Mikl\u00f3s realised the tense anticipation discharging through his muscles, down his crossed and then uncrossed legs, to the points of his feet. He felt something warm inside him, at the thought that Alexej had taken his drunken request from more than a week before that seriously. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s blue eyes, half-covered by a lock of hair that had escaped his styling attempts earlier that night, were fixed on the keys. With his head bowed down slightly over the piano, Alexej started playing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The music began slowly and sweetly, long notes following one another in the soothing melody of a lullaby, with properties almost akin to magic \u2014 for it flew as if it had its own life and history, as if Alexej was the one being played and not the one playing it. It evoked peaceful images, of summer nights and warm hugs; Mikl\u00f3s could almost smell the reassuring scent of fresh grass, like when he lay down in the fields to stare at the firmament. Alexej\u2019s eyes seemed closed from that distance, and yet Mikl\u00f3s watched his hands glide nimbly across the white and black keyboard, his fingers pushing down each key with touches that looked as light as feathers but produced a sound that resonated strongly through the bar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The background chatter was reduced to a whisper, and everyone\u2019s attention seemed to be focused on the new pianist. Mikl\u00f3s was almost enraptured, and his hand was closed around the glass of beer that stood tall on the table, as if paralyzed in a now-forgotten intention to take a sip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe\u2019s good, isn\u2019t he?\u201d He heard a gentle, lilting voice coming from his side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It belonged to a girl \u2014 more of a woman, really \u2014 with long, unbelievably straight black hair falling on her shoulders, and a pair of bright green eyes nestled on her perfectly symmetrical face. Mikl\u00f3s nodded, and soon turned back to look at Alexej again and caught him returning the gaze, flashing a smile before focusing back on the music.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGood and handsome,\u201d the girl commented, disrupting Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 attention again. He turned towards her once more, and this time he noticed her dress. It was actually quite discreet, high-necked and of a deep, dark shade of green. She was looking at Alexej with a certain intensity in her gaze. Her eyes were focused and moved slightly as if following the motions of his hands, and yet she also seemed determined to have a conversation with Mikl\u00f3s, in the meantime.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t think I\u2019ve ever seen him around,\u201d she commented.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe\u2019re just passing through,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s explained, a creeping wariness bleaching his voice of its usual friendliness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh, that\u2019s a pity,\u201d she sighed, and however exaggerated, she seemed totally honest. \u201cHe does that in every city you pass through?\u201d she asked, leaning on the table and pointing towards Alexej with a single raised finger. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She had short-cut, unpainted nails atop long, thin fingers, and somehow, despite their elegance, they seemed to be a discordant note in the score of her appearance. That grating feeling was too soon gone when she hid her hand in her hair, scratching the back of her neck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen this is a special occasion,\u201d she continued, and now she was looking at Mikl\u00f3s from her taller position, still standing next to the table. \u201cI feel lucky to be here,\u201d she said, smiling. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was a pleasant smile, and Mikl\u00f3s felt himself softening. The music Alexej was playing lulled the whole room, and he felt as if it was a delicate caress soothing his soul. The jarring feeling of dissonance he had felt earlier was soon forgotten.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re celebrating something?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s shook his head. \u201cI just wanted to hear him play.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The woman raised her eyes to look at Alexej again, and Mikl\u00f3s too followed the direction of her gaze, smiled at the focused but relaxed expression on Alexej\u2019s face, one he had never seen on him before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe chose a very sweet song,\u201d she whispered, almost as if talking to herself, but not quite softly enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe told me it\u2019s one of his favourites,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s disclosed, his eyes again following the nimble movements of Alexej\u2019s fingers on the black and white keys. He made it seem effortless, as if music just bloomed spontaneously from his fingertips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The woman\u2019s voice seemed so far away, and Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t think too much \u2014 still focused on the last, sweet notes of the piece \u2014 before introducing himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEvelin, nice to meet you.\u201d He heard her voice chirp from his right. \u201cCan I sit at your table, Mikl\u00f3s?\u201d she asked then. And it was only when she repeated his name that the feeling of strife returned, casting a dissonant tone on the final note of Alexej\u2019s piece. \u201cI want to compliment your friend,\u201d she insisted, as a warm, albeit somehow quiet applause poured down like thin rain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s hesitated, but she sat down anyway, pulling a chair from a nearby empty table and taking a place between him and Alexej\u2019s empty chair. Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 gaze was lowered, but he could tell, somehow, that Alexej was finally coming back to the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re a bit young to drink beer, aren\u2019t you?\u201d the woman observed, again without bothering to wait for an answer before she acted. She slid the glass of beer on the table to position it in front of her, and shifted in her place on the chair. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
His eyes pointed towards the floor, Mikl\u00f3s could see her right foot tick restlessly on the ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If Alexej was bothered by the girl\u2019s presence, he didn\u2019t show any sign of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When he arrived back at the table, her prying presence did not even put a wrinkle between Alexej\u2019s eyebrows. On the contrary, when she promptly stood up to shake his hand and introduce herself, he smiled pleasantly, offering a name of his own \u2014 a made up one: L\u00e1szl\u00f3. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI expected the hands of a pianist to be softer,\u201d she commented, raking her fingers over the skin of his palm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej laughed, his voice ringing, clear and refreshing, through the air around him. Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 eyes glued on him, grabbed on to his figure as if it was the only thing that could keep him from sinking in the quicksand of his feelings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2019s because I\u2019m not a pianist,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s noticed every little movement he made: his hand slipping away from hers to close around his glass; the slow movement of his arm as he brought the beer to his mouth, wetting his pale lips in its gold; his slightly raised eyebrows over the eyes that still flashed open as he drank. Most of all, however, Mikl\u00f3s noticed how Alexej seemed to be precisely avoiding looking at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Evelin leaned forward \u2014 Milk\u00f2s caught the movement from the corner of his eye \u2014 uncomfortably close to Alexej for his tastes. \u201cAnd what do you do for a living, to have such strong hands?\u201d she asked, and she was a purring black cat with sharp eyes, her voice mellow and smooth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej still hadn\u2019t taken his eyes off her. His unfading smile tensed, only a little, at that question. His fingers combed through his hair, his rebel lock once again slipping out of place. \u201cI\u2019ve done all kinds of jobs while studying, but now I\u2019m just travelling around,\u201d he replied, teeth peeking out of his smile. Mikl\u00f3s knew they weren\u2019t just travelling<\/em>, and yet it bothered him, it ruffled his feathers all the wrong way, that he couldn\u2019t tell if the first part of Alexej\u2019s sentence was a lie or the truth. He didn\u2019t care about his past, it meant nothing whether Alexej was a student like Edi, or a farmer, or a soldier, or the son of a rich musician, as long as he was the same person that offered Mikl\u00f3s help, bought him clothes, asked him to stay by his side. He didn\u2019t <\/em>care what his past was but, he realised, he wanted<\/em> to know about it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cYour friend Mikl\u00f3s is a fellow student? He looks young for that,\u201d she inquired, smile briefly flattening on her face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej glared at him for barely a second, quickly looking away, but it was enough for Mikl\u00f3s to feel himself plummet down to the center of the Earth, propelled by the sheer force of that look.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe\u2019s my brother,\u201d Alexej explained, and his voice sounded colder than the night outside. \u201cI had to bring him along; it was a request from my parents.\u201d He shrugged. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Evelin turned towards Mikl\u00f3s, and seemed to want to add something, but Alexej\u2019s fingers brushed against the hand that she had placed on the table, caressing it and then taking it into his own, stealing back her attention. \u201cWhat about you? Your hands aren\u2019t all that soft either.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It stormed and blew inside Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 mind, and he could barely tell apart the words that he heard, for Alexej still wouldn\u2019t look at him, except for that single glare, and he felt lonely and lost, out of place, and he felt the weight of his mistake pushing him down. He wasn\u2019t sure what he had done wrong: maybe it had been the name, maybe letting the girl sit there, maybe uttering no word since Alexej had come back to the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His visceral reaction was the impulse to run away from that situation, but if he wanted to get up and leave, right then, where would he go? If Alexej got angry and told him to leave, where would he go? Those were the questions being thrown around in his head, howling in his mind as he tried to control the swelling sensation in his guts that wasn\u2019t really far from making it hard to breathe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The woman, Evelin, had a beautiful smile. Her skin, smooth and unblemished, had the scent of summer fruit; her slim body looked like it could have been on some fashion magazine and, as far as Mikl\u00f3s could tell, maybe it was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe he was just jealous that she wasn\u2019t talking to him, that he was being left out of the conversation after being used as an instrument to start it. Or maybe the sense of alarm that her closeness to Alexej triggered inside him spoke of a much more instinctive fear, the fear that he would be replaced.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Evelin put her hand on Alexej\u2019s shoulder, leaning even closer to him, as if, like that, Mikl\u00f3s wouldn\u2019t hear her whispering. \u201cYou know, I know a place where they have the best beer in all Hungary. Would you like to go?\u201d she asked. One of her hands casually rested on Alexej\u2019s thigh, and he was staring at her as if trying to learn her face by heart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s wanted to look away, to stand up and leave, but he felt as if he were floundering about, in search of the force of will that it would take for him to even simply straighten his back, to utter a sound, to take a deep breath. The large room, the small crowd all around, the buzzing of their voices, the waitresses navigating it to serve drinks and salty snacks, the old and grey man playing a melody on the piano that sounded nowhere as sweet or as calming as the one Alexej had played before him, even Alexej and the woman chatting right in front of him, it all seemed so terribly far away. Even the warmth of the room started to feel unbearable. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
His mouth tasted like iron, as if everything around him was covered in rust. His teeth sank into his lower lip desperately, trying to keep his mouth from opening, but the pain he should have felt from it barely even registered. His nails carving half-moons in the soft flesh of his palm were but a stinging sensation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s barely moved, his muscles still bursting with the tension of that internal fight to stay still, which his brain had just miserably lost against. It was then that Alexej shot him a glance. When his eyes met Mikl\u00f3s\u2019, they widened a little in what could have been surprise, anger, or maybe worry. It was so brief Mikl\u00f3s could have imagined it, and yet that simple look sent his mind racing, wondering if he should have actually gotten up and left for a while, if Alexej actually wanted him out of the way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The woman\u2019s words, which Mikl\u00f3s wasn\u2019t even trying to follow anymore, were interrupted halfway, her hands ignored as Alexej stood up suddenly. She froze in place too, her eyebrows furrowed slightly, as if the expected surprise hadn\u2019t completely hit her just yet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej circled the table to stand behind Mikl\u00f3s, clearly shifting the atmosphere around the table. He seemed to be the only one at ease with the new mood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI would be delighted to continue this conversation, Evelin,\u201d he said, and Mikl\u00f3s could feel the warmth of Alexej\u2019s body behind his back, and the air itself felt far more breathable. \u201cBut my brother is pretty tired, as you can see.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s craned his neck backwards, to look up towards Alexej. He had a pleasant smile on his face and one hand closed around Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shoulder. When their gazes met, however, his look was more of a glare, and as quick as it had come, Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 gaze whisked away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI see,\u201d Evelin acknowledged, simply. She seemed distraught, more than surprised. \u201cSorry, Mikl\u00f3s,\u201d she said, \u201cI didn\u2019t realise.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
She held out her hand, not to Alexej, but to him. Her bright green eyes looked straight into Mikl\u00f3s\u2019, and there was a kindness in them when she spoke again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt was a pleasure to meet you,\u201d she said. Her gentleness belonged to an old woman talking to a child. It was condescending, in a way, as if she knew so much more than he did, and wanted to offer him her wisdom because he wouldn\u2019t be able to understand certain things otherwise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t like it, nor did he like her. He could take care of himself pretty well, all things considered, and Alexej had helped prove it. But Evelin was holding her hand out to him, and Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t understand why, but he shook it anyway. \u201cFor me, too,\u201d he said, and he was reasonably sure it was a lie.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou told her your actual<\/em> name?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nMikl\u00f3s trotted along not unlike a child, following Alexej\u2019s lead inside the corridors of the hotel. The place had felt the westernisation of the recent years more than others, or at least that was the comment Alexej had made when he first saw the colourful posters covering the walls. They were advertisements for products Mikl\u00f3s had never seen before, soft drinks, sweets and clothes, and it was unclear why one would desire such a collection.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They had walked in silence for a long time, after leaving the bar and the company of that woman, so when Alexej finally talked it was both a relief and a punch in the gut. Of course, the silence was broken, but Mikl\u00f3s wished it wasn\u2019t a scolding that had broken it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d murmured Mikl\u00f3s, hurrying up to Alexej\u2019s side. \u201cI wasn\u2019t thinking.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s wrung his hands together, twisting his fingers, rubbing the palms against one another, his voice thin and hesitating; his eyes darted towards Alexej\u2019s face and then the floor, the wall or any other surrounding surface he could pretend to be interested in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s expression was tensed in a preoccupied grimace, and he snorted audibly at Milk\u00f2s\u2019 attempted apologies, before getting back to rummaging in his pockets for the keys.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m not used to this,\u201d insisted Mikl\u00f3s, not without a note of desperation in his voice. The need to be forgiven burned his throat and his windpipe, turning his voice hoarse and making it hard to breathe. Words crowded out of his mouth regardless, the air in his lungs on the brink of not being enough. \u201cI\u2019m not a good liar, she just came up and asked questions and–\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSpare me the excuses, would you?\u201d Alexej, who had found the key and quickly opened the door of their room, barely looked at Mikl\u00f3s before walking inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For a moment, Mikl\u00f3s almost expected Alexej to close the door behind himself and lock him out. He feared it, and yet did nothing about it, as if some part of himself considered it a rational punishment. After all, it was even kind, if compared to his father\u2019s standards: Alexej wasn\u2019t screaming at him, threatening him or calling him names; he wasn\u2019t yanking him inside a room and locking him there; he had never raised a hand against him at all. In fact, Alexej wasn\u2019t doing anything except for sounding irritated and looking upset.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej was nothing like Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 father, of course. And that was why, standing in the room\u2019s entrance, he was waiting. When Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t walk in, he even urged him in with an impatient gesture.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d repeated Mikl\u00f3s after the door was closed behind him. One of his hands had somehow ended up grabbing Alexej\u2019s shirt and gripping it, the smooth texture of fabric wrinkling between his trembling fingers. The gestures accompanying Alexej\u2019s exasperated sigh were distorted by the tears welling up in Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 eyes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAre you angry with me, Ale\u0161?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej seized Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 wrists, forcing his hands away from the now hopelessly crumpled shirt and dragging them up, next to Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 face. \u201cI\u2019m not angry,\u201d he grunted, unconvincingly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s found himself meeting the other\u2019s eyes, filtered through the tears that turned them into a confused kaleidoscope of blues and whites. The room in the background was equally confused, the white-painted furniture, the colourful bed sheets, all mixed in indistinguishable background shapes. Only the strong, artificial smell of the air freshener remained to identify the place clearly, at least until wet lines started striping Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 face as the tears began falling from his eyes. He made no effort to hide them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej sighed, loosening his grip on Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 wrists. Through the unstoppable tears, Mikl\u00f3s made out Alexej\u2019s fair face, his expression softening; he saw Alexej get closer and closer, until all he could see was the shirt\u2019s white fabric, until all he could feel was the warmth of the arms wrapped around his shoulders. In that moment, nothing else but the two of them existed \u2014 the two of them and the heavy weight of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 guilt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m just worried, Miksa,\u201d Alexej whispered against Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 ear. \u201cI\u2019m not angry with you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s closed his eyes, squeezed his eyelids together, and kept them stubbornly shut. He breathed in Alexej\u2019s full scent, his face buried in the other\u2019s chest, tears still streaming down his face and into the other\u2019s clothes. He returned the hug fervently, the shirt once again crumpled in his fists.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStop crying.\u201d One of Alexej\u2019s hands traveled up Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 nape, brushed through his hair gingerly, tracing imaginary figures on the back of his head, pulling him closer and closer yet. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s snivelled loudly, shoulders shuddering along. \u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t cry,\u201d said Alexej, slowly, but firmly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s could hear the sound of Alexej\u2019s heartbeat, regular, calm, relaxing, and found himself matching the flow of his own breathing to it. Stopping his sobs became easier. \u201cI ruined your evening,\u201d he whimpered, still in the middle of attempting to calm down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s not your fault.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s could almost believe it, if not for the nagging voice in the back of his mind that couldn\u2019t really believe Alexej, despite Mikl\u00f3s wanting nothing but to believe him. \u201cIt\u2019s my fault, and I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s arms stiffened around him, and his grip on Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hair tightened. Slightly, so much that Mikl\u00f3s wouldn\u2019t have noticed if he wasn\u2019t so tense. \u201cMikl\u00f3s,\u201d murmured Alexej, calling his full name for once. His tongue danced on the final letter in that funny way it always did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When the hug broke, it was because Alexej pushed him away, both hands gripping his shoulders. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo you like being treated like a child?\u201d Alexej asked, eyes firmly fastened on Mikl\u00f3s\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo.\u201d The word felt as if it was ripped from Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 tongue, and it tasted like uncooked cabbage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen stop acting like one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej was serious as ever, his shoulders stiff, and his hands gripped Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shoulders even a bit too tightly. He was also right: Mikl\u00f3s had no doubts about it. He nodded, ashamed of the dried tears that still streaked his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej ruffled his hair affectionately, a warm smile back on his face so quickly it seemed as if had never left. \u201cYou made a mistake. It\u2019s fine,\u201d he assured him, taking Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 face between his hands and leaving a kiss right in the middle of his forehead, warming him from head to toe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s knew that the matter was closed \u2014 in Alexej\u2019s book, at least \u2014 when Alexej turned away with a shrug. \u201cEveryone does, sooner or later,\u201d Alexej said under his breath, sounding more as if he was talking to himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2014\u2014\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n
iv. find your hands in the dark<\/em><\/h2>\n\n\n\nMikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t know those woods, but at the same time, they looked familiar enough to make him feel comfortable, even safe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There were things all woods seemed to share, and it wasn\u2019t simply trees. It was the moist scent of musk, the sound of creaking leaves, branches rasping, birds rustling their wings. Even the wind sounded the same everywhere, a wailing howl that would make one think it held the whole world on its invisible shoulders.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Everyone had taught him \u2014 his parents, the teachers at school \u2014 that nature had it out for him, that storms were dangerous and that the thick of the woods wanted to gobble him up. They painted these things like dark, ugly monsters you had to avoid, learn to tame or run away from. They told him about dangerous animals and poisonous plants, about how wolves would come for him if he stayed out in the woods during the night, and how he would get hungry and eat the wrong things and die in horrible ways.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s felt as if unlearning all those things took a lot less effort than memorising them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The woods felt safer than his own house back in Dobrovnik; they felt more familiar than the city. The warm fire crackling in the clearing offered comfort from the cold without asking anything in return, and the grass under their backs was pleasantly dry, if maybe a bit cold. The smoke from the bonfire smelled a little like vinegar and made a thin hissing sound, creating, together with the swaying branches and the night birds, some sort of gentle background melody.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej had left him their only blanket and sat closer to the fire, burning a twig as he stared into it. Mikl\u00f3s still hadn\u2019t mustered the courage to ask what he was thinking about. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He was staring at Alexej, from behind, back resting against the car, and a tiny smile stood proudly on his face. He felt useful for having found the clearing in the trees himself; for having guided Alexej, with the car, to where they were now; for having lighted the fire himself \u2014 with the help of a matchstick of course, but asking nothing else of Alexej, and using broken branches and twigs he\u2019d found himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His friend \u2014 which Mikl\u00f3s dared call Alexej only in the privacy of his head \u2014 seemed satisfied enough about the whole thing. He was obviously in a good mood, at least compared to his usual silence. He was singing to himself, a wordless melody under his breath, and he looked more relaxed, like the first days they\u2019d spent together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the last two days, they had covered a lot more ground than planned and Alexej was contemplating the idea of skipping their stops in the next couple of towns, to travel even faster. Mikl\u00f3s was sure his hurry had something to do with what had happened in the bar, with the woman, but couldn\u2019t really put his finger on how<\/em> exactly. He had also thought the whole thing would make Alexej stressed and difficult to deal with; so far, he had been proven wrong on that, so he wondered if the first speculation wasn\u2019t wrong, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThe sky over their heads was as clear as it came, and the full moon towered in the middle of it, close to the zenith, bright as a city light. It was late, and Mikl\u00f3s could feel tiredness creeping at the sides of his eyelids.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He crawled towards Alexej, pulling the blanket along with him and then extending it over the other\u2019s shoulders, to share the warmth: it didn\u2019t seem right for him to use it alone. Alexej froze for a second, apparently surprised, but then got back to what he was doing without a word. When he peeked over Alexej\u2019s shoulder, Mikl\u00f3s saw that he was holding what looked like a handmade cigarette between his fingers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLight it for me, would you?\u201d Alexej asked, putting the smoke between his lips and handing him the twig he\u2019d been playing with.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s nodded, shoved one end of the stick into the bonfire and then used it to light Alexej\u2019s smoke. His hand shook slightly, when the twig ended up making a flame bigger than he expected. Regardlessly, Mikl\u00f3s managed to successfully do what Alexej had asked, and without him offering any protest or suggestion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Once one end of the cigarette was burning, Alexej inhaled deeply, eyes closed and a relaxed expression on his face. His messy hair and the fair face it framed looked much livelier now, coloured by the light of the fire and flushed by its warmth. Only after a couple of seconds did Alexej exhale, right into Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It didn\u2019t smell like cigarettes at all, and Mikl\u00f3s coughed slightly at the unexpected smell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej smiled, pulling him close. \u201cWould you like a drag?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 eyes drifted from Alexej\u2019s smirk to the smoke burning slowly between his fingers and back. \u201cThat\u2019s not a cigarette,\u201d he observed, unsure if it was a question or not.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej snickered. \u201cNo, it\u2019s not. Try it!\u201d he insisted, all but pushing the thing between Mikl\u00f3s\u2019s fingers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The fire crackling almost startled Mikl\u00f3s, as he self-consciously tried to imitate his older friend. He wasn\u2019t sure of what to do, but when Alexej\u2019s gaze rested on him so softly, he didn\u2019t feel so anxious about getting things wrong. Everyone made mistakes sooner or later, after all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And smoking couldn\u2019t be that<\/em> hard.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThe drag Mikl\u00f3s took left a piney taste on the tongue, and the aroma of something else similar to its smell. It wasn\u2019t unpleasant, and he didn\u2019t even cough as much as Edi had when trying his first cigarette. He must have had a funny face when he exhaled, however, because Alexej\u2019s lips spread in an amused smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTake another if you like it,\u201d he encouraged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Shoulder against shoulder, they huddled close together under the blanket. The night was clear and unusually warm for the season, but it was still winter. Close as they were, Mikl\u00f3s\u2019s muscles finally started to relax as a reaction to the newfound warmth. He would have loved to sleep like that, instead of inside the car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After receiving an approving look from Alexej, Mikl\u00f3s took another drag.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The second time, it tasted even better.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He didn\u2019t know if that smoke had anything to do with it, or if it was Alexej pulling him closer as he stole it back, but Mikl\u00f3s hadn\u2019t felt so lighthearted in ages. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was much Mikl\u00f3s disliked about cities, and even towns.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was mostly the people in them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
From his position in the passenger seat of Alexej\u2019s car, Mikl\u00f3s imagined how that whole town would look if empty of gazes, of meaningless conversations, of people wearing out the stones under their feet for reasons that, to him, seemed trivial at best. He imagined how it would look if Alexej\u2019s parked car was the only one there, if the two of them had a whole town for themselves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In his mind, the man in a suit with a leather suitcase in hand walking on the opposite side of the road simply disappeared with all his things, and the shiny black car he\u2019d just parked; the woman selling steamed corn on the street corner found herself somewhere else, where Mikl\u00f3s would never meet her; the mother walking hand in hand with her two children was simply not there anymore, and neither were her loud offspring.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He remembered vaguely some scenes from an old movie he\u2019d seen on TV, one evening at Maja\u2019s place. Scenes of a softly lit, vast, empty space the likes of which he doubted could really exist. It looked much much bigger than any of the town\u2019s fields, and there was no house, no one anywhere, just two solitary figures at the edge of the picture, that looked no bigger than two little pencil strokes at the edge of a huge sheet of paper. That\u2019s how Mikl\u00f3s would have liked to be, a little pencil stroke at the edge of a white page.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He liked loneliness, and he liked Alexej because he felt exactly like loneliness, and his hugs were so light they left no traces, and so big he could lose himself in them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A tapping sound on the window of the car brought him violently back to reality.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On the other side of the glass, a familiar face returned Mikl\u00f3s’ gaze. Her eyelids fluttered over a keen pair of green eyes, and a long-fingered hand waved a greeting. It was difficult to place her, at first, all bundled up in an oversized sweatshirt, but her voice, however muffled it was from outside the closed boundaries of the car, was unmistakable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s couldn’t place the feeling that had just coiled around his guts, and he just sat there, unresponsive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Evelin didn’t seem to think much of that and simply gestured for him to lower the window of the car. For some reason, Mikl\u00f2s did. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon’t you remember me? Evelin! From the other day, in the city?\u201d She smiled widely at him, and it was then that Mikl\u00f3s recognised the spiralling grip inside him as a particularly alarmed kind of worry; fear, almost.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat are you doing here?\u201d he muttered, more to himself than to her. He looked around, as casually as possible, instinctively checking for Alexej’s presence. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt seems we’re travelling in the same direction,\u201d she informed him. \u201cWhat a lucky coincidence!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
None of the feelings resulting from the other night had been forgotten by Mikl\u00f3s, and the mere memory of them made him wish for nothing but Evelin\u2019s disappearance. She beamed her smile, just as condescending as the other night, hiding that same unwelcome friendliness behind white teeth and under long eyelashes and dark locks of hair. He wished he had the confidence to wipe it all away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A voice in the back of Mikl\u00f3s’ mind kept telling him to do something, anything<\/em>, to make her go away before Alexej came back. Unfortunately, intensely wishing for her to leave didn’t seem to work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cHow’s your friend?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe\u2019s fine,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s murmured, looking away from her and her unnervingly amicable expression. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI would love to see him again. Where is he?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s felt her getting closer even before he turned to see her fingers closing around the edge of the open car window. There was interest shining in her eyes, an inquisitive light in them as they blinked way too near his face. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe went to buy some things we need,\u201d he answered, vaguely. She didn’t need to know the truth, did she? Alexej got angry at him when he told her the truth, last time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI see.\u201d Her short nails tapped rhythmically against the body of the car, and she looked around.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Silence fell between the two of them, and the thought of Alexej filled it, as wide and cumbersome as his presence would have been.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s wished he knew what to do. Instead, he sat back inside the car that smelled like their trips, and stared at that kind woman who liked Alexej apparently as much as Mikl\u00f3s disliked her. She was looking so attentively all around them one might say she was examining the street, and the way the setting sun plunged it into an orange expanse, if that made any kind of sense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then, all of a sudden, she stopped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWeren’t you two brothers?\u201d she said, turning back to Mikl\u00f3s. The same inquisitive gaze that inspected their surroundings was now probing Mikl\u00f3s, instead, the light of a hopeful smile relaxing her features.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cUhm.\u201d He hesitated. \u201cYes\u2026\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou don’t look alike,\u201d she declared. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
She waited just long enough, before continuing, to let the fear that had been stirring at the edges of Mikl\u00f3s’ brain throw itself at him. There was no malice, no ill-intent anywhere on her face, in her posture, and that only made it all the more confusing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe’s prettier,\u201d she said, murmured, her face half-shoved inside the car, \u201cand you have a stronger accent.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s’ feeling of alarm barely left space for anything but the sharpness of fear, its poisonous fangs injecting liquid apprehension into his veins. What would Alexej want him to do, he thought, asked himself as if believing some part of him could own the answer. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAre you two really brothers?\u201d Evelin asked, and still her face looked gentle, her hand offered itself to him in nothing but friendliness, the gap between what she said and what quivered behind her big green eyes getting wider and wider. \u201cYou can tell me, Mikl\u00f3s.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The silence that followed spoke with Alexej’s voice, whispered words into Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 ears that he only had to repeat out loud.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d he blurted out, crossing his arms against his chest. The hand she was holding out closed in a fist, lost the impetus keeping it outstretched.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy so defensive?\u201d Her expression, right then, reminded Mikl\u00f3s of his mother, of her repeated attempts at tearing down the walls keeping his thoughts inside, of her insistence on prying into things he considered private, things that belonged only to him. It didn’t make Evelin any more likable. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYour questions are inappropriate,\u201d he said. \u201cYou have no right to ask them. Who are you?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI’m just someone who’s worried about you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If she was lying, then her way of doing it was so earnest, so keen and heartfelt he hardly felt like she was. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWorried about me?\u201d he echoed, confused. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
She nodded as if she’d just said the most natural, obvious thing. Mikl\u00f3s only wanted her to leave, and the complicated bundle of questions she brought along to follow her. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI’m fine,\u201d he told her. \u201cAle–\u201d he stopped short of saying his name, held it on his tongue and swallowed it back. \u201cHe<\/em> takes good care of me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nMikl\u00f3s didn’t care enough about her to wonder if what crossed her face was sadness, anger or worry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMikl\u00f3s, are you sure of that?\u201d she asked. \u201cDon’t you want to go home?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her face was too close, and her words hid mysteries behind lies. Mikl\u00f3s didn’t care about any of it, he only wanted the road, empty towns to explore, and a soft bed every once in a while, to dream close enough to Alexej to breathe in his scent. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWho are you?\u201d he repeated, louder this time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou’re nothing like him, Mikl\u00f3s,\u201d she insisted, but her hand had retreated and her head was outside the cabin of the car now. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLeave us alone,\u201d he told her, and it sounded like a warning he didn’t believe in. \u201cPlease, just leave!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s was pretty sure that the fact that Evelin left had nothing to do with him asking nicely, however desperately. He was content enough with her doing it, however \u2014 raising her hand in defeat, nodding, murmuring something reassuring, then finally turning her back to him and walking away \u2014 and was too absorbed in the effort of forgetting about her to ask himself anything else. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He just wanted to leave her behind with everyone else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo you think I’m unlikeable?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The rolling movement of the car running through the countryside and the sweet notes of piano music Alexej had chosen had lulled Mikl\u00f3s into a comfortable sleepiness. Maybe that was why those words left his mouth before he could even realise it, moving straight from his brain to his lips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He had been thinking about Evelin, about her forehead wrinkled with genuine worry, her intruding hands taking up space that didn’t belong to them, her questions as inappropriate as they were absurd. He had been thinking about how she\u2019d tried to take him away. Then he had been thinking about her in a pretty dress, smiling at Alexej, touching his hands, sitting between him and Mikl\u00f3s, and about Alexej smiling back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej wasn’t smiling in that moment, but he was humming the melody playing on the radio, his mind apparently far away. He looked tired, and had been silent for a while, leaving Mikl\u00f3s’ thoughts free to wander roads he had promised himself to leave untrodden, letting his half-asleep mind conjure up the thought \u2014 large, imposing, inescapable \u2014 that ended up rolling down his tongue, somehow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej reacted slowly. He turned down the music, the gentle melody sliding in the background of their conversation, caressing the back of their thoughts. Then, he let out a sigh, slowing down the car. Outside, the dust from the wheels racing progressively subsided.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWould I be travelling with you if I thought you to be unlikeable?\u201d Alexej replied, glancing at him for no more than a moment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s went silent. He had no choice but to let his thoughts run around in their own circles, but he could choose not to let the same words leave his mouth again and again. That would undoubtedly make <\/em>him unlikeable, after all.<\/p>\n\n\n\nWhen Alexej\u2019s gaze was too hot on his nape and his ears had gone as red as if the temperature had actually risen, Mikl\u00f3s shook his head weakly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo,\u201d he voiced, stealing a look at Alexej. His friend wasn’t looking at the road at all, not anymore. The view around them had stopped moving and the engine\u2019s humming had died down, together with the music playing on the radio, which made the silence growing between them much heavier than before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, but?\u201d Alexej\u2019s voice was kind, and it felt as if it was single-handedly peeling off layer after layer of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 confused barriers, fences he kept building around his concerns; it felt as if the simple sound of it was clearing the way for his thoughts by vibrating softly through the air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It took infinitely long moments, a strained effort and all the weight of the night-wood silence to draw the words out of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 mouth, but when he finally spoke, he felt the huge weight of doubt lift from his chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWouldn’t you prefer a girl to keep you company?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s simply asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And, as soon as he did, another weight took the place of doubt on his chest, constricting his lungs into breaths as short as hiccups.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cA girl?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s was staring outside, at the thick woods surrounding the dirt road, his mind suspended in a state that was closer to dream than consciousness. He didn\u2019t dare look at Alexej, and the only impression he got was that his voice had quivered strangely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes,\u201d he insisted, finding that the urge to have an answer was suddenly stronger than the need to keep all his insecurities stubbornly hidden. \u201cA girl. Don\u2019t you like girls?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The question itself seemed stupid, obvious even. The boys all liked girls, and Mikl\u00f3s had even heard old men like Nik or his father talk about girls in a way that was not much different from his classmates\u2019. And yet, as he allowed himself to peer at Alexej\u2019s perplexed face next to him, he really couldn\u2019t imagine him of all people talking like that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej talked about music, about books, about things that dead men said a long time ago and that people still repeated hundreds of years later. Alexej talked about all those things Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 classmates and friends thought were boring and useless, but he made them interesting, almost exciting. It seemed to Mikl\u00f3s as if Alexej was above<\/em> all the other conversation topics he was used to, above gossip, farming, discussion of cattle, wildlife and the weather, and above talking about girls.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cI also like you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t register the meaning of Alexej\u2019s words, not right away. It was as if they hung in the air between them, then circled him, slowly, patiently, closer and closer, waiting to be accepted. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He felt Alexej\u2019s gaze on his heating face and the warmth of his presence closer than before. His own lips, which had been so quick to move and give form to his unfiltered thoughts until a moment before, timidly mouthed soundless words now. His eyes darted around, each second focused on a different element of the surrounding landscape, as if trees, a dirt road, and a dark starry sky could somehow offer him a solution, or a hiding place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s touch on his shoulder was delicate, his voice low and kind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWill you tell me what this is really about, Miksa?\u201d Alexej said \u2014 murmured, even, although in the silence of that night, even his soft voice seemed loud.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNothing.\u201d Mikl\u00f3s shook his head, lowered it, gaze pointed to the ground. The black carpet under his feet was worn out in places, exposing metal here and there. His old shoes were dirty brown, all mud and dirt, trampled grass and wood resin. He felt stupid for not bringing a spare pair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s hand was still on his shoulder, gentle but firm, keeping his thoughts from wandering away as much as it kept him from exiting the car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt doesn’t look like nothing from your face.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s hand felt almost cold against his skin, and Mikl\u00f3s let it turn his face. He let his gaze be drawn, his attention pulled. Expression unperturbed, Alexej held Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 chin firmly, forcing eye contact that Mikl\u00f3s wasn\u2019t sure if he wanted to run from or dive into.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej had a spray of freckles like powder across his cheeks and nose. Mikl\u00f3s counted four light marks near the lips, too, almost invisible. If he kept counting, maybe the stirring in his guts would stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej took a moment, staring at him, observing his face attentively. It was difficult for Mikl\u00f3s to understand exactly what was going on behind those blue eyes, especially when all he could think about was that feeling, like he was about to throw up, and the way Alexej\u2019s eyes were somehow a mix of cold and implausibly warm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAll this travelling has been stressful for you, hasn\u2019t it?\u201d Alexej finally said. It was as if he had just come to a conclusion, a relaxed sense of understanding spreading across his face. His fingers were still holding Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 chin firmly, gently sinking into his cheeks. \u201cMy bad,\u201d he added. \u201cI forget you’re not used to it.\u201d Then he let go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He ruffled Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hair \u2014 muddling his feelings, mixing up the stirring in his guts with the bitterness on his tongue. Mikl\u00f3s wanted to protest, almost raised his hand to push Alexej away. Then he remembered the other\u2019s words. He remembered when Alexej told him not to act like a child, if he didn\u2019t want to be treated like one, so he held back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej sat back in his seat, facing the road once again. \u201cI’ll bring you somewhere nice next,\u201d he said. He had no particular intonation, no particular expression on his face, as if that was just another simple, inconsequential decision.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou–you will?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The engine came back to life, its lonely hum a sudden thunder in the peaceful December night. The radio buzzed quietly for a moment before one of Alexej\u2019s handpicked cassettes resumed playing. Alexej \u2014 the strange, kind man who liked<\/em> Mikl\u00f3s \u2014 nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\nMikl\u00f3s\u2019 face softened into a smile, and so did his body and mind, everything about him slumping in newfound relief. \u201cWhere?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s a surprise, of course.\u201d Alexej\u2019s lips curved upwards, too, but slightly, elegantly, without even showing a hint of teeth. \u201cHelp me out with the roadmap, would you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s had never been to the cinema.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In truth, he didn\u2019t even know what a movie theatre was supposed to look like, so when they approached the building, at first, it didn\u2019t spark any kind of recognition in him. It was only when they stopped side by side in front of a movie poster that he realised where they were.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The movie theatre was an absolutely unremarkable building, with a small sign above the front entrance and a single poster next to the ticket office. The poster was black, with just the movie\u2019s title and its logo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJurassic Park<\/em>,\u201d Alexej read aloud. He sighed, seemingly annoyed. \u201cThat\u2019s still being screened?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nFrom deeper inside the theatre came the smell of closed rooms and dust, but also of buttered popcorn and cigarette smoke. It was unfamiliar and had the sweaty sultriness of a crowd, which was everything Mikl\u00f3s preferred to be away from. And yet there was something thrilling about that new experience, and with Alexej, even a crowded room didn\u2019t seem as scary.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat is the film about?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s asked, his gaze going from the poster to Alexej and then back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDinosaurs.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej thought about it for a moment, his blue eyes looking in Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 direction but seemingly unfocused. Then the hint of a smile coloured his face, and his hand closed around Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 right wrist. \u201cI have a feeling you\u2019ll love it,\u201d he said, pulling him towards the ticket office.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He bought two tickets from the old lady staring lazily back at them from behind the counter, and then led Mikl\u00f3s further inside the building. The warm, plain corridor ended with a wide double door, in front of which an uninterested boy who looked even younger than Mikl\u00f3s was standing, taking long drags from an half-consumed, gnarled cigarette. He checked their tickets, barely sparing a look at them, and let them inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then the double doors opened and Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 eyes went wide. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
They walked slowly inside the room with the highest ceiling Mikl\u00f3s had ever seen, the echo of their steps stifled by the old-smelling carpeted floor. In the back of the room, a big white screen stood between velvet curtains. The room was filled with several lines of wooden seats, partly occupied. There were a bunch of noisy children with their parents, a whispering group of teenage friends that had taken the seats right in the middle of the room, and an old couple clearly as out of their element as Mikl\u00f3s felt. A thin cloud of smoke, coming mostly from the old man\u2019s pipe, lingered in the room, finding no way out through the heavily curtained exits. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
By the time the lights went off, and the projector started beaming images on the screen, Mikl\u00f3s and Alexej were already seated, in two of the seats furthest away from the screen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s would have lied if he said he didn\u2019t enjoy the movie, or if he said he wasn\u2019t enraptured by the very feeling of watching it like that, the images on the huge screen seizing his attention and the soundtrack music blasting loudly through the whole room. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The other people in the room sometimes whispered, kids let out scared or excited exclamations, someone crunched popcorn or slurped soda with their straw. Alexej\u2019s seat squeaked from time to time as he shifted in his place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s barely noticed all that. But through the whole film, one hundred and twenty-six minutes of it, the awareness of Alexej\u2019s hand on his own never left his mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After long, tiring days on the road, sharing thoughts over relaxing orchestra music and doing barely anything else in the increasingly claustrophobic space of a car, any hotel would have looked like the most luxurious place to be in. However, that time, the difference was that the place Alexej had chosen was actually quite plush.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It wasn\u2019t in the same town as the movie theatre. They travelled for almost an hour to a bigger, more important city, one that was neatly excluded from all the itineraries Alexej had plotted out on his map. Alexej didn\u2019t offer an explanation and Mikl\u00f3s never asked why, but the awareness that Alexej had planned a detour exclusively for his sake didn\u2019t elude him, and together with the novelty of the cinema experience, put him in an unusual good mood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Such a good mood it was that even the awkwardness he felt, walking inside the old historical building near the centre of the city, quickly faded to nothing but a background discomfort. The wide, elegant hall of the hotel was almost intimidating, all carpeted floors and decorated wallpapers, with paintings in tasteful gilded frames and a sculpture at each side of the double doors.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The hotel staff wore their elegant, picture-perfect uniforms not without a hint of pride and Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t miss the glances directed at his own casual clothes and his dirty pair of hand-me-down boots. But Alexej ignored the looks, walked past them with a smile and led Mikl\u00f3s further into the hall, pulling him along by the hand. Mikl\u00f3s found himself thinking he didn\u2019t care about other people\u2019s opinions, as long as Alexej stood by his side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Most of all, as Alexej had the customary graceful conversation with the woman behind the front desk, Mikl\u00f3s realised that indifference didn\u2019t really describe his feelings towards these strangers. In fact, it was more that he thought of them as mediocre annoyances he was forced to deal with, like his classmates, like some people in town used to be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s smile creased his cheeks, flushed pink by the winter wind outside. He had a thin stubble covering his chin, and his voice had the hoarse notes of a slight sore throat. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
If only people would stop bothering them, Mikl\u00f3s thought, then they could stop running all the time. If only people stopped being so intrusive, judgemental, arrogant, then they could maybe even settle somewhere, find their own little place in the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A thought exploded suddenly like a bubble in the front of his mind. It was a simple thought, and it flowed naturally into his contemplations, yet the bulk of it managed to startle him, like cold water when taking a shower.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej, thought Mikl\u00f3s \u2014 timidly at first, then with more and more conviction as the seconds passed \u2014 deserved better than the life he was leading.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After getting the key, Alexej didn\u2019t make his way further inside the hotel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On the contrary, he headed back outside with a gentle thank-you directed to the woman at the front desk and a cryptic silence directed at the boy promptly following right behind him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s walked Alexej\u2019s same path on the red carpeted floor, pushing the rising questions deeper down his throat and further away from his line of thought. His hand gripped Alexej\u2019s even before the thought that he could be left behind had actually taken form.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They went through the revolving door into the sharp cold of the winter night, hand in hand with wind lashing their faces red.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At home, December was the month when the earth grew harsh, icy and barren; it was the worst month of the year, one of struggles and sacrifices. Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 father and his mother argued loudly every night, the bedroom doors the only thing between Mikl\u00f3s and the words they screamed, and far from enough to prevent him from hearing them. When he was eight years old and his father slapped him across the face during dinner, so hard it left a mark and his right eye was swollen for days, he had been told it was because he was laughing and it was not good to laugh. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s knew exactly what the reason had been. He knew that he was eight years old and still going to school instead of helping his father all the time, that he was eight years old and still his mother hadn\u2019t had another child, that he was eight years old, the second-born, and unlike his five-years-older brother, he did not have the choice to continue school; that he was eight years old and he was already worth nothing, except the fact he was his family\u2019s last chance of not dying of starvation, once his father had gotten too old to work the fields.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s did not miss his parents\u2019 home in December, and as he huddled up inside his slightly oversized jacket, his hand firmly holding Alexej\u2019s, he thought that his house, his village, even his family, were something he\u2019d never miss at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej led him along the damp sidewalk, until the first intersection in the road. There were several people all around, but at that time of the evening, they all seemed to be in enough of a hurry to not pay even the smallest attention to the two of them stopping at a corner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhere are we going?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s asked, or rather found himself asking, his voice getting ahead of him once again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej had been about to speak, but he stopped. He closed his lips, his eyebrows furrowed, a thin wrinkle forming between them. Inside that small crease flocked a million different thoughts, worries that assaulted Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 brain, ideas that seemed to be chasing each other behind Alexej\u2019s intense eyes, all condensed into the smallest fold of skin. That expression didn\u2019t last more than a couple of seconds, enough to bear a thousand thoughts, and for Alexej\u2019s hand to run from their shared hold up Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 arm, to sofly grip his shoulder<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Finally, Alexej\u2019s lips unfurled into a smile, and once again Mikl\u00f3s felt at peace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAren\u2019t you hungry?\u201d asked Alexej, sounding slightly amused. \u201cWe haven\u2019t eaten since midday.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s felt suddenly aware of the emptiness in his stomach. It was December, after all, and without Alexej reminding him of it, his own body would have ignored hunger out of habit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A sudden burst of wind whipped hair out of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 face, and he shivered from its cold fingers reaching under his clothes. Alexej\u2019s tidy locks were blown out of place too, yet still graciously framed his face in an unusual fair crown. He was looking down at his own hands, but Mikl\u00f3s was far too focused on the shoulders shielding him from the wind to pay attention.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If he hadn\u2019t been, maybe Alexej pushing several banknotes and their room key into his hands wouldn\u2019t have felt so sudden. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The heat of Alexej\u2019s hands was hard to let go of, so much that for a second the wish to keep holding them overshadowed Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 confusion. But then his mind caught up, and tried but then refused to make sense of that act. The question must have been plain on his face, as much as it was ready on the tip of his tongue, because the moment he raised his face Alexej promptly gave it an answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s late,\u201d he murmured. \u201cBuy something to eat and then go back to the hotel.\u201d Alexej\u2019s tone was encouraging, his smile kind, his intentions as firm as ever. He wasn\u2019t the type of person people usually refused, and the thought barely even crossed Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 mind. He shook his head, pushing the thought away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBut–alone?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Since they\u2019d first had that conversation, the previous night in the car, Alexej had never left his side. Since they\u2019d first left Nik\u2019s bar the night they met, they had never eaten apart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s lips were still relaxed in that slightly crooked smile. He passed a hand through his hair, dishevelled by the wind earlier, to brush it back into its usual order. He took a deep breath, chest visibly going up and down, his eyes darting away and then almost immediately back to Mikl\u00f3s\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMikl\u00f3s,\u201d he called, when the other instinctively looked away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The contact \u2014 the warm, somehow rough skin of Alexej\u2019s palm against the soft, wind-whipped skin of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 face \u2014 lasted longer than Mikl\u00f3s anticipated. Alexej had used his full name, and that alone gave him a sense of alarm whose roots spread from the inner part of his stomach, from the centre of his body, and in a couple of heartbeats had infested almost everything. He could not explain the feeling, not even to himself, but he felt swept away by it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThere is something I want to get,\u201d Alexej said, brushing a lock of hair away from Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 face, \u201cand it could take a while.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That whole day, Alexej had kept Mikl\u00f3s close, followed his every step, never wandered around without him. He\u2019d brought Mikl\u00f3s along when he stopped at a service station, let him choose breakfast for the both of them. When, after lunch, he\u2019d stopped for a smoke, he\u2019d shared it with Mikl\u00f3s and told him about an old movie he really liked. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The whole day, his words had been kinder than usual, his hands warmer and his touches more frequent. The bundle of tiredness and stress Alexej seemed to be carrying before hadn\u2019t vanished, but its shape seemed to have changed, its weight gotten more bearable. The wrinkles that formed between Alexej\u2019s eyebrows when he was deep in thought, which made him seem preoccupied, worried even, had looked less deep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Of all that, nothing had changed. The whole time, Alexej had given no signs that he disliked Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 presence, and on the contrary had repeated, again and again, and promised and insisted that he wanted to be with Mikl\u00f3s. The whole day and even right then, he\u2019d always been flawlessly gentle, earnestly sweet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCan\u2019t I come with you?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s asked, paying next to no attention to the note of desperation in his own voice. His own question echoed in his ears, as if it was pronounced by someone else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After brushing a lock of brown hair away, Alexej\u2019s hand was resting on his jaw, and Mikl\u00f3s almost leaned into the touch, almost grabbed Alexej\u2019s hand and pulled him close. The whole day had been so enjoyable, and it just didn\u2019t make sense that it now had to stop being like that. It just wasn\u2019t fair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s going to take me a while, Miksa,\u201d repeated Alexej, still just as gentle as before. \u201cI\u2019d like for you to go on.\u201d His warm hand left Mikl\u00f3s\u2019s face, and his comforting smile couldn\u2019t help its absence. \u201cEat and stay warm, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Whatever it was that Alexej was going to do, Mikl\u00f3s knew he would have done anything to help. He wanted to say just that, swear that he would do it all, all that was asked of him, because he didn\u2019t care about anything else, he had never cared about anything else as much as he cared about what he and Alexej had. The words were already in his mouth, almost bubbling out of it, taking on a will of their own and leaping outside as they kept doing here and there sometimes. But his lips kept them inside, trapped them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He hesitated. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
For one moment, he hesitated, and it was too late. Where there had been a touch now there was nothing, and where there had been a pair of blue eyes now there was thin, cold air. Alexej turned and walked away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What he left behind was the feeling, ringing sharply in Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 ears, of dull loneliness. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f2s was alone in the opulent, surely expensive, big hotel room, with his thoughts, his confusion and his empty stomach as his only company.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
All his desperate thoughts from the night before \u2014 those he thought had gone and disappeared into nothingness \u2014 all came back at once, stronger than before, as if they had just been hidden as they grew bigger and bigger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The money and the key Alexej had left him lay on the bedside table; his bag had been thrown on the floor in the corner of the room, and Mikl\u00f3s himself was sitting on the edge of one of the beds of the otherwise unused, untouched room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s was confused about everything: why had Alexej chosen that place? Where did he want to go? What did he want? What did he expect from Mikl\u00f3s, and from the future? What did his words mean? Most of all, one was the question that kept coming and coming: why did Alexej stick by his side? No, why did Alexej like him<\/em> at all?<\/p>\n\n\n\nHe\u2019d taken his shoes off after walking in, let his feet take a deserved break from them on the soft carpet \u2014 bright green with a geometric motif, it almost looked like a well-manicured lawn. He was barefoot as he silently paced the floor, wringing his hands as he tried to explain, to justify to himself the emptiness in his chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He felt lightheaded, and the echo of his pounding heart resonated in his ears. He trod from one side of the room to the next, sweaty hands squeezing the hem of his shirt. He shook his head to try and drive away the gripping, all-absorbing fear that it was all a lie. His body reacted as if he\u2019d just received a punch in the gut. It was not that he believed Alexej to be a liar. But how could he be sincere? What was<\/em> there to like about Mikl\u00f3s?<\/p>\n\n\n\nHe looked around, and didn\u2019t find anything to distract himself with, apart from the light yellow wallpaper covering the walls. He missed Alexej\u2019s warmth at his side, the security it gave him, how the simple sound of Alexej\u2019s controlled breathing could drive away all questions and bad thoughts, simply because Mikl\u00f3s enjoyed his presence so much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The mahogany furniture decorating the room was minimal but comfortable, and it included a mirror, from which Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 own pale face returned an anguished look. He looked away as if stung, his heartbeat growing deafening. It was like something was blocking his airways, constricting his lungs, making it hard to breathe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He asked himself if Alexej would come back to him once again, or if that whole past day had been his own way of saying goodbye. The thought itself struck him physically, the impact no different from one of his father\u2019s slaps on the face, except affecting his whole body. The pain was dull, pulsating, and all too real. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Feeling dizzy, he sat back on one of the two large beds, and curled in on himself. The soft, clean-smelling quilt should have been so pleasant to sink into, but the thoughts swirling into his head didn\u2019t allow Mikl\u00f3s to enjoy it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
If Alexej had left, he thought to himself, there was nothing he really wanted<\/em> to enjoy. If Alexej had left, what had he left Mikl\u00f3s with? He had nothing, was nothing, could do nothing. He was useless in a city he didn\u2019t know, in a country that wasn\u2019t his own, without Alexej.<\/p>\n\n\n\nHowever, he didn\u2019t regret running away. Even if Alexej didn\u2019t come back \u2014 and Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 rationality kept insisting he would \u2014 even then, at least his father wasn\u2019t there. He didn\u2019t regret leaving behind all those people who didn\u2019t really care about him, who didn\u2019t understand him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The truth was that he didn\u2019t care where he found himself, not anymore. The whole world was lines on a paper, black roads, red borders, green plains and brown mountains, and in between them were him and Alexej, and that was all that mattered. So if Alexej wasn\u2019t there or if he was, whether he shared Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 feelings, whether he cared about him, that<\/em> was all that mattered.<\/p>\n\n\n\nMikl\u00f3s felt the knot of tears in his throat, and the lonely, rational voice in his mind trying to push it back was getting lower and thinner. What he wanted, what he needed, the only authority his heart would accept to slow down its beating was reassurance: Alexej\u2019s voice promising, swearing he\u2019d never leave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But that voice was nowhere to be heard; that reassurance wasn\u2019t coming anytime soon. The time passed, the digital clock on the bedside table soundlessly marked every minute passing in the silence of that room, broken only by Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 irregular breaths. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
If Alexej had left \u2014 but he hadn\u2019t, he couldn\u2019t<\/em> have \u2014 he had left Mikl\u00f3s with the awareness that he was capable of being and doing more than he had ever hoped to, at least when Alexej was there; he had given Mikl\u00f3s the knowledge that the right words from Alexej\u2019s mouth could turn him into someone worthy. <\/p>\n\n\n\nIn the middle of his chest where all the feelings were accumulating, gathering like a small but nasty crowd, Mikl\u00f3s felt a sort of anger building, stewing, filling the void, and finally screaming louder than them all: Alexej would come back, it said. He would because there was no other way it could be, because what he and Mikl\u00f3s had was precious, irreplaceable, and even if Mikl\u00f3s struggled to accept that the feeling was mutual, Alexej had to feel like that too. He\u2019d had so many chances to leave Mikl\u00f3s behind and hadn\u2019t, and he wouldn\u2019t this time either.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But if he did, after all, leave him behind, then Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t do anything but chase the happiness he had known that past day, and with it, chase Alexej himself. That was the thought Mikl\u00f3s held on to in all that emptiness. He did not know how he would do it, but the same impulse inside him, that wanted him to promise Alexej he\u2019d do anything to accompany him, that same voice was there again, and it said he\u2019d find a way; it said he had no choice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was in that strange limbo, somewhere between hopefulness and despair, that Mikl\u00f3s waited. He didn\u2019t know how long, because the minutes turned to hours and time became a meaningless figure on the clock\u2019s display as he tossed and turned on the bed, still fully dressed in dirty clothes, while his heart kept threatening to explode inside his aching chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It felt as if he was about to die, but it felt like that for hours, and he never did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a knocking on the door, and it was then that it all came to an end. He didn\u2019t die, but that terrible feeling disappeared. The crazed pulsing of blood in his veins, his laboured breathing, the nausea, the burn in the pit of his stomach, it all turned into a warmth spreading throughout his body. It did, when Mikl\u00f3s hurriedly opened the door, without even checking who it was, and there was Alexej, standing on the threshold with a wide grin on his face and the usual kindness in his gaze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s barely gave Alexej time to step inside before throwing himself into his arms, burying his face against Alexej\u2019s chest and hiding in it. He hugged Alexej tightly, and realised only after his arms were firmly locked around him that none of them had said a word yet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej was wrapped inside his coat, and his usual scent was smothered by the ice cold from outside, by the traces of snow on his clothes, and it was half-covered by a sweet, dry smell that Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t really place. Mikl\u00f3s shivered a bit from the contact with the outside temperature, but didn\u2019t break the hug. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej was the one to close the door behind them, and then simply returned the embrace, one arm wrapped around Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shoulder and his face resting on Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 head. The two of them stood in the room\u2019s entrance for a while.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s hadn\u2019t paid attention to anything but the fact that Alexej was back, and it took him several minutes to clear his thoughts. He clearly felt the waves of relief washing through him as the warmth of Alexej\u2019s breath caressed his forehead and the softness of Alexej\u2019s hug enveloped him. Soon, the other\u2019s clothes lost any trace of the outside winter cold.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhere were you?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s whispered into Alexej\u2019s chest. The arm wrapped around him moved to loosen the hug and brushed his dishevelled hair into place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI told you it would take a while,\u201d Alexej explained vaguely, before parting from Mikl\u00f3s and walking further inside the room. He looked all around, spinning on his heel, and when he faced Mikl\u00f3s again he was wearing a wide smile, seemingly satisfied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s smile was always contagious, and his good mood as rare as it felt invigorating. Mikl\u00f2s couldn\u2019t help but return the hint of a smile. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He felt as if he\u2019d just woken up from a dark nightmare right into the brightest of days, but the aftershock was too strong to ignore. He felt the repercussions of his emotions still rippling through his body, the echo of his hurried heartbeat, a tingling in his lungs as they were finally allowed to fully expand and take in air, and the almost imperceptible shaking of his hands. He could now recognise that his fears were nothing but that, fears \u2014 but he didn\u2019t feel satisfied at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He made a step forward. Hesitantly, he took a deep breath and repeated the question. \u201cIt\u2019s almost one in the morning,\u201d he said, voice thin and low, but audible nonetheless. \u201cWhere have you been?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No sooner had he spoken the words than he regretted it. It wasn\u2019t even the right question. He didn\u2019t even really care about where<\/em> \u2014 he only wanted to go along \u2014 and yet that was what he\u2019d asked. Now, he somehow expected Alexej to react not unlike his father would have. For a fraction of a second, Mikl\u00f2s felt his whole body ready to cower before a raised hand, his ears preparing to hear yells of rage, his arms tightening around his body, bracing for violence.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBut Alexej, he laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It nearly felt out of place, but Alexej couldn\u2019t really be improper after all. His clear and hearty laugh resonated inside the room, not loud, not mocking, but cheery and almost contagious. His expression was gentle, relaxed, and his whole posture seemed to beam warmth into the room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 lips opened for no other reason than what he could call awe, maybe at Alexej, maybe at his beautiful laugh, at his charming smile, or maybe at the renewed awareness that someone could be gentle with him, that Alexej would<\/em> be.<\/p>\n\n\n\nIn a mute response, Alexej raised his right hand. Only then did Mikl\u00f3s notice it had been occupied all along, holding a device he didn\u2019t recognise. Alexej lowered it again, and walked back towards Mikl\u00f3s, who was still standing in the entrance of the room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDid you miss me that much?\u201d Alexej asked then, tilting his head to one side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s nodded, for if he spoke then he\u2019d have to say no,<\/em> he\u2019d have to say much more than that<\/em>. He said nothing, instead, but the flush spreading on his face likely spoke in his stead.<\/p>\n\n\n\nHe looked away, and his eyes went back to the device in Alexej\u2019s hand. It looked similar to a camera, but the form was different from the ones Mikl\u00f3s had seen back in town; also, it was visibly bigger than the single-use cameras his teacher took pictures with at the beginning and end of each school year.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s asked, genuinely curious but also glad to move the conversation away from the horrible evening he\u2019d just spent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s what I went to get.\u201d Alexej shrugged. He raised the device and pressed a couple of buttons on it, opening the shutter and uncovering the lens behind it. \u201cIt\u2019s a video-camera,\u201d he explained as he did all that. \u201cA camcorder, to be exact: It has audio too.\u201d He pointed the thing in Mikl\u00f2s\u2019 direction, looking into the viewfinder with one eye.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s shook his head, and when that didn\u2019t seem to convince Alexej to put it away, he delicately pushed the device aside, in the opposite direction from him. \u201cWhat is it for?\u201d he asked, walking towards the bed and sitting on it, more to avoid being in sight of the thing\u2019s lens than because he wanted to rest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He felt as if there were a third, unwelcome presence in the room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He\u2019d turned his back to Alexej, and only heard calm steps behind him get closer and closer before he felt a warm hand close on his shoulder. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNothing in particular,\u201d Alexej\u2019s voice said, softly, before he sat next to Mikl\u00f3s. He still hadn\u2019t taken his coat off. \u201cI have never filmed anything before,\u201d he continued, with the same gentle tone, \u201cbut you could be a nice subject.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej was looking around the room, maybe avoiding Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 gaze, maybe deciding whether that was a nice setting to film in. The expression he had was unique, one that had never even passed across his face since that day, three weeks before, when they\u2019d first met. Mikl\u00f3s had noticed it earlier already, but it was becoming more and more evident that his smile reached his eyes, that the vitality behind them had the heat of a child\u2019s happiness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cM-me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes, you,\u201d Alexej confirmed. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with that?\u201d he asked, beaming his smile at Mikl\u00f3s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In all his uncertainty, all his embarrassment, in the wake of his despairing paranoia from before, that made Mikl\u00f3s happy. It softened his heart, turned all the bad feelings into dust and blew it away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy do you want to take a video of me?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s asked again, but more than embarrassed, more than scared or worried, he was curious now. Curious to know what Alexej actually saw when he looked at him, what he saw that made him talk like that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej shrugged. \u201cMemories? Fun?\u201d He adjusted the camcorder in his right hand, pressed some buttons. \u201cDo I need a reason?\u201d he asked, turning to Mikl\u00f3s as he raised the camera\u2019s eye to him. He stared at Mikl\u00f3s meaningfully, his smile dimming into a focused expression.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s felt as if he should offer a response, but no answer really came to mind. \u201cI guess you don\u2019t,\u201d he finally conceded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej flicked a switch on the camera and opened its lens on Mikl\u00f3s, as if he took those last words as permission. A red intermittent light blinked on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The room\u2019s temperature hadn\u2019t changed at all, and yet Mikl\u00f3s felt the heat on his face rise, as if the gaze of the camera was warming the air itself. His mind was blank, his lips ajar, holding nothing but a breath between them. \u201cBut–Ale\u0161,\u201d he stuttered, looking away from the impersonal eye behind which hid Alexej\u2019s familiar face. He felt his cheeks flush. \u201cWhat should I say?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej shrugged \u2014 Mikl\u00f3s saw the shadow of the movement with the corner of his eye. \u201cNothing in particular,\u201d he said. When Mikl\u00f3s forced himself to look towards the camera again, Alexej was smiling behind it, gentle as ever. \u201cJust tell the camera about your day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOkay. I can do that,\u201d decided Mikl\u00f3s. He said it out loud, however quietly, more for himself than Alexej or the camera. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Talking to someone that wasn\u2019t there, someone who he didn\u2019t even know, felt odd. It was something extraneous, alien to his character, his habits. And yet once he\u2019d decided to do it, Mikl\u00f3s found it easy. Much like when he ran away, once he decided that was what he\u2019d do, everything just came naturally to him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cToday we–we went to see a movie, Jurassic Park<\/em>,\u201d he started, hesitation slowly melting away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cAnd did you like it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI did,\u201d confirmed Mikl\u00f3s. \u201cThe dinosaurs were… cool!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej nodded, white teeth sinking into his lower lip as he operated the camera, and Mikl\u00f3s found himself mirroring the act as his mind worked faster than he could keep up with and words came out of his mouth like a flood. As he described the movie, he lost control of them, of himself, or, better yet, he felt as if he was finally free from hated restraints he kept trapping himself into.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He described some scenes, explained how impressed he was with the special effects: the animals almost seemed real, and it felt as if once outside the cinema they would find one right there ready to devour all of them. It was maybe a bit scary, but most of all it was exciting \u2014 it made him feel a rush of emotions that, back in the cinema, culminated with him squeezing Alexej\u2019s hand, and Alexej letting him do that. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He thought about that, and took a deep breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhen I\u2019m with you, Ale\u0161, I feel like\u2026\u201d he began, he tried to explain, but the thought mixed up on his tongue, turned into a muddle sticking to the inside of his mouth. Mikl\u00f3s looked at his hands that he was clenching into fists, and his brow furrowed as he searched for the right words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat is one delightful expression.\u201d Alexej\u2019s comment, whispered as he leaned closer to Mikl\u00f3s\u2019s face with the camera, irremediably broke his concentration, wiped his mind clean.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s stuttered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A smile was his only response and it only made him more flustered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2019s–\u201d Mikl\u00f3s breathed in, opened his lips to speak, then breathed out, getting no closer to resuming his speech. \u201cI mean–what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej laughed. He set the camcorder down on the bed in front of them, intermittent light still winking at them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMiksa,\u201d he whispered, placing both hands on Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shoulders, \u201crelax.\u201d He raised both eyebrows and squeezed slightly. His hands were so warm he felt feverish. Mikl\u00f3s supposed it was the coat he still wore, as his cheeks were slightly reddened, too. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThis is supposed to be fun,\u201d continued Alexej. And he looked like he was having a good time too, even then; like the warmth coming from him was more than just physical.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s for us,\u201d he continued, as his hand left Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shoulders and gestured at both of them, between their chests. \u201cFor you and me. It\u2019s our<\/em> memories. You have nothing to worry about when it\u2019s just you and me, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nAlexej\u2019s hands wrapped Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 ones inside that warmth of his, a heat that travelled up his arms to his heart. Mikl\u00f3s nodded, and squeezed back tightly, to keep those hands just there. Alexej owned all the words and Mikl\u00f3s had none, but that was all it took to communicate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Understanding flowed between them, and Alexej didn\u2019t reach for the camera again. Instead, its mechanical eye observed them from the bed, unreacting, red light still blinking rhythmically.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo, what else did we do?\u201d Alexej encouraged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s felt it again, the feeling that a third person was there, even if he trusted that it would be no one but their future selves. He stiffened a bit, shifted in place on the bed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then, with a deep breath, he started talking again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe travelled to the city,\u201d he said, drinking every single hint of a reaction on Alexej\u2019s face as if it were the freshest water to ever be poured. \u201cI don\u2019t really like cities,\u201d he began, and barely a muscle had to move out of place around Alexej\u2019s smile for him to hurry and amend his words. \u201cBut the hotel is very nice!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That muscle still contracted, but it turned the smile into a snicker, a thin vibration in Alexej\u2019s throat. \u201cThe staff are all prim and proper, aren\u2019t they?\u201d Alexej gave him a knowing look, one that felt private, reserved just for him. \u201cThat\u2019s boring.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s chuckled, nodding. \u201cBut the room has big, comfy beds,\u201d he said, the palm of one hand brushing the quilt under their backs. It was the same shade of green as the carpet. \u201cI bet my brother would be jealous if he saw me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s hand went slightly stiff.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He was silent for a moment, a long moment during which Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 eyes did not leave the space between the two of them, and his ears listened to the smallest quiver of Alexej\u2019s inhale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou wish he was here?\u201d asked Alexej. His voice did not waver, and neither did it freeze. It managed not to give away any emotion at all, in fact.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy brother?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s considered. He imagined Edi in that room, Edi who was always kind to him, who always had a nice word and a smile for his younger brother: in a sense, Alexej reminded Mikl\u00f3s of him. Despite how similar Alexej was to Edi, however, he was also very different. So different, that everything that passed between Alexej and him could never have happened with Edi. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
So different, Mikl\u00f3s realised, not without resentment, that Edi left him behind but Alexej brought him along.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, I wouldn\u2019t want Edi here,\u201d he decided. The firmness in his voice surprised even himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo?\u201d Alexej crooked his head slightly. \u201cWho would you bring here, from the village?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s wanted to refuse the question at first. He shook his head vehemently, and even gathered the words to say he saw no point in asking that question. But then, then something in Alexej\u2019s gaze made him stop. It was maybe a strange twinkle in his eye, a light in the back of his pupils that resembled his own. Something familiar to Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 own wishes for reassurance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s\u2019s shoulders hunched and he breathed deeply. He found the spirit, somewhere inside himself, to grab both of Alexej\u2019s hands before he spoke again. Much calmer, he stared at their intertwined fingers. \u201cNo one,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m much happier being here with you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Only then did he look up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s eyes went wide \u2014 slightly, but it didn\u2019t escape Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 attention \u2014 and his face softened again into the same smile from before, the one that reached his eyes and twinkled inside them. It had a subtle slyness about it, as if there was yet another secret hiding behind white teeth. \u201cYou\u2019re more direct than usual, today,\u201d commented Alexej, looking down at their hands and curling up the edges of that smile. \u201cI like that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej seemed to be thinking about it, as if he was deciding what to say. Mikl\u00f3s felt his own heart pounding madly inside his ribcage and words welling up in his closed mouth, cautiously shaping a sentence that seemed to be always one letter short of being formed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou should feel free to say anything that crosses your mind,\u201d said Alexej, playing with their intertwined fingers, gaze shifting from their hands to Mikl\u00f3s\u2019s face. \u201cYou should say what you really want.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s gaze was … loud. A strange word to use for a pair of eyes, and yet nothing could better describe how they could smother even the deafening sound of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 own heart, and of his own voice as it got, once again, ahead of himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat I want is to never leave your side.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even the silence that followed wasn\u2019t as loud as Alexej\u2019s blue irises. He looked away for a moment, the smile still on his face, even with its corners getting stiff. He untwined their fingers and loosened his grip. Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t let go. \u201cYou know, Miksa,\u201d Alexej sighed, \u201cI don\u2019t live what I would call an ideal life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t care.\u201d Before he could continue, Mikl\u00f3s had already replied, and that seemed to surprise Alexej more than anything else. There was an edge of amusement in the wrinkles on his forehead, over his raised eyebrows. Mikl\u00f3s found that he couldn\u2019t stop talking, not right then; he found that he had to let it all out now, that if he didn\u2019t then he\u2019d lose that chance forever. His eyes prickled with tears, his breath stumbled in his throat as if his crazed heartbeat was somehow hindering it. \u201cI don\u2019t care about anyone but you,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s managed, before tears spilled out and he hid his face in Alexej\u2019s coat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He hid it because he didn\u2019t want to appear as childish as he felt, crying for no other reason than the weight of these feelings he couldn\u2019t even properly express. He hid his face, but he couldn\u2019t hide the sobs shaking his whole body, no matter how hard he gripped Alexej\u2019s coat, no matter how deep his face sank into his chest. He breathed in the same smell from before, dry, acrid, with that sweet undertone he just couldn\u2019t place. But this time Alexej\u2019s hug was warm, and his arms both closing around Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shoulders made it even warmer, and sweeter, and cozier than any bed could be. Even the thought of the camera lens watching them became so far away as to barely graze his consciousness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIs this what has been bothering you, Miksa?\u201d Alexej\u2019s chest vibrated with his voice, which reverberated through Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 bones. It felt so incredibly intimate, and at the same time, not enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI–\u201d Mikl\u00f2s whispered, once the embrace had soothed his sobs. He hesitated, and when he finally talked it wasn\u2019t because his mouth was getting ahead of him. When he spoke again, his words had been thought out and selected; they\u2019d been carefully chosen. His face pressed against Alexej\u2019s chest, his voice shaky, Mikl\u00f3s said what he\u2019d been meaning to say since the night before on the road \u2014 or, better yet, what he\u2019d been meaning to say since they\u2019d left the village together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAle\u0161, I want to know you won\u2019t leave me behind.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej let out a sigh. It wasn\u2019t a sad one, or a frustrated one. There was tenderness in it, one Mikl\u00f3s had never heard, or felt, not from Alexej, not from anyone else. For the first time he came to know that tenderness, as one of Alexej\u2019s hands softly brushed through his hair, and as his grip tightened around Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 body.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy would I leave you behind, Miksa?\u201d Alexej murmured, and it wasn\u2019t enough, not until Alexej buried his face in his hair. It wasn\u2019t enough, not until Mikl\u00f3s felt Alexej\u2019s warm breath and then his soft lips on his own forehead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was not enough until Alexej finished the sentence: \u201cWe can travel together our whole life, if that is what you wish,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And, for the moment, it was enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2014\u2014\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n
v. leave what\u2019s heavy<\/em><\/h2>\n\n\n\nThe small shop had way too many racks stuffed in a space much too small for them, each shelf overcrowded with all types of products. The register near the exit was operated by one bored middle-aged woman leafing through a glossy magazine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the back of the shop, Mikl\u00f3s was staring at the sweets shelf, his gaze focused on the colourful wrapping of a bar of milk chocolate, printed with a photo of a cow. Chocolate had always been a rare treat for Mikl\u00f3s, mostly enjoyed when Edi brought him one bar as a gift, from time to time. The last time that had happened had been before his brother left for the city.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He felt Alexej\u2019s presence behind him seconds before he felt the hand on his shoulder. His breathing gave him away \u2014 perfectly regular, distinctive in its flawless quietness \u2014 and the way his measured steps approached with the usual confidence. His scent, Mikl\u00f3s thought, managed to be naturally strong and yet pleasant, alluring almost, especially when their faces were close, like in that moment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej had bowed his head, so that the warmth of his breath hit the side of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 neck. From behind his back, Alexej\u2019s hand reached for the bar of chocolate, but stopped short of grabbing it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou want it?\u201d Alexej whispered in his ear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s wished to put some distance between them. At the same time he wished he could pull Alexej even closer. He settled for standing still, staring at the image of a cow on a bright blue expanse, and nodding slowly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen take it,\u201d suggested Alexej. He retreated his hand and walked past Mikl\u00f3s, towards another shelf on which were packs of other types of sweets, of all sizes and form, piled up, rather than lined.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTake\u2026 it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f2s stumbled on his words, confused both by his pounding heart and by the typically enigmatic way Alexej sometimes spoke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej, on the other hand, had his back turned to Mikl\u00f3s. His attention was directed at the narrow aisle they were in, air filled with soft piped music. His gaze travelled along the space between jam-packed racks, lingering on Mikl\u00f3s for a couple of seconds before making its way to the end of the aisle. Finally, Alexej took a small pack of cookies from the shelf in front of him and slipped it into the inside pocket of his coat. His movements were quick but casual, his posture relaxed; he looked like he did it all the time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat is stopping you?\u201d he said then, whispered only a couple of steps from Mikl\u00f3s, with a smile that showed teeth and had dimples at its sides, candidly innocent. \u201cWe are never coming back here, after all.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s opened his mouth to say something \u2014 or at least he was sure he did, but nothing came out. He watched Alexej shrug and move on to the next aisle. Before he turned the corner, however, Alexej turned one last time, with that expression on his face which Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t help but define as playful: curled-up lips, a hint of tongue peeking between his teeth from time to time, full cheeks and focused eyes with that twinkle about them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhatever you decide, wait for me outside, okay? I want to get one last look around,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s listened to the faint sounds of his steps on the other side of the rack. The chocolate in its wrapper sat still on the shelf, the cow staring him in the eyes with its own lifeless ones.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s tried to answer the question Alexej had asked: what was stopping him?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No one was looking at him; barely anyone was in the shop at that time. It was not someone\u2019s gaze that bothered him. It was the notion of what was wrong and what was right, ingrained in his brain by people he disliked, people he had grown up trying to please even after he\u2019d repeatedly confirmed what an impossible task that would be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He took the bar of chocolate in both hands, and stared at it a bit more, almost as if he wanted to make sure the cow wouldn\u2019t change its expression.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If Alexej said it was okay, then it was, he concluded. The chocolate bar was in the inside pocket of his jacket before he\u2019d finished a deep exhale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Outside the shop, the road that cut the small town in two was scattered with only a few people, who strolled undisturbed under the dim streetlights. The air was damp and cold with what was left of the rain that had followed Alexej and Mikl\u00f3s for the past week; it still hung in the air, clinging to walls, dripping from roofs and gutter pipes in large drops that drummed against cars and slid down into people\u2019s clothes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s was standing under a balcony, where he\u2019d sought shelter from the drizzle. There, he ate his chocolate bar with an unperturbed smile behind the crumpled wrapper. The snack melted into sweetness in his mouth and left sticky brown stains on his fingertips. Even as the humidity seeped into his jacket and his hands were cold as ice, nothing could ruin the taste of that chocolate bar, nor the sense of fullness that his stomach had never known before in December.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
From where he was, Mikl\u00f3s could see the exit of the shop, and while his mouth was focused on his treat, his eyes were fixed on the door from which Alexej was to walk out soon. He waited with a light heart, and with a sort of gentle anticipation stirring his stomach, a sensation that he\u2019d come to associate with Alexej.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe that was why he didn\u2019t notice the person approaching him until they were right in front of his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The figure, barely as tall as him, was bundled in a large jacket, with a sweatshirt underneath; its hood was pulled over their head so far it covered the face, too. Despite that, Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 confusion didn\u2019t have time to turn into the appropriate state of alarm, or into anything else, before the person spoke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t pay for that, right?\u201d a feminine voice said, as the figure took another step forward. It didn\u2019t take much digging into his memories for Mikl\u00f3s to recognise who the voice belonged to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Evelin brought a cigarette to her lips. As she lit it, the flame from her lighter cast intermittent orange light on her face as she attempted three times to ignite the tip. Even in the warm light from the flame and then, dimmer, from the burning stub, she looked pale, tired, with heavy bags under her eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t reply at first, not until his last bite of chocolate was swallowed, now soured by that look of hers. He crumpled the blue wrapper and stuffed it in the pocket of his jacket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow do you know that?\u201d he said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her eyes were hard as rocks; he felt his face flush, and guilt burn at the pit of his stomach. He looked away, but could still feel her gaze pierce through him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was watching you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Evelin breathed out the smoke. The smell of it was a bit different from the one Mikl\u00f3s had become used to: sharper, and stronger. She looked around and walked closer to him. The hood was still pulled over her head and her gestures, her gait, looked much different from the previous times. Her posture was bent forward, her head low, and she walked with one hand in her pocket, which gave her stride a slightly irregular pace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMikl\u00f3s,\u201d she whispered, once she was close enough he could feel the acrid burn of her cigarette in his own lungs. \u201cThat man is lying to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s felt his muscles go stiff. He almost growled a simple \u2018no\u2019 as an answer, instinctively defensive. The sense of guilt from seconds before, the embarrassment, everything disappeared as if it had never been there. In its place was something he wanted to protect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe is not lying to me,\u201d he declared, his voice unsteady with irritation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDid he tell you that he stole the car you\u2019re travelling in?\u201d she asked. The cigarette burned between her fingers, untouched. \u201cDid he tell you whose money you\u2019re spending to eat, and travel, and stay in hotels? Because it sure isn\u2019t his.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Evelin\u2019s words should probably have surprised Mikl\u00f3s. He knew, somewhere inside him, that someone else\u2019s eyes would have gone wide, that someone else would have felt anxiety, guilt, or fear, when faced with those accusations. He knew something intense should have hit him, an emotion of any kind. He knew all that from her self-confident expression, from the air of victory about her, and from common sense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
However, he felt next to nothing. Not even surprise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s knew so little about Alexej, about everything he had done, about who he was outside that dimension they lived in where there was only the two of them. He had no idea where the car, the money, or everything else about Alexej came from, not really. It was not his right to pry. But it seemed that, somewhere inside him, the awareness had always been there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s kept his gaze low, his eyes darting shortly to the shop\u2019s exit, finding nothing but wet, empty asphalt between it and himself. \u201cWhat do you want?\u201d he asked. He let his voice waver, he let it sound quivering and insecure, because he didn\u2019t care about it sounding firm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Evelin straightened her back. She threw the cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with her feet, then in the blink of an eye her hand was gripping Mikl\u00f3s\u2019s forearm, almost yanking his hand out of his pocket. \u201cI want you to come with me, away from that man,\u201d she whispered, vehemently, the whites of her eyes visible even in the dimness. \u201cI\u2019m a private investigator, Mikl\u00f3s. Your brother asked me to bring you home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s was absolutely still, his body just as stunned from the news as his mind was. It gave him a certain feeling of happiness, knowing that his brother was looking for him, that despite leaving Mikl\u00f3s behind, he still cared a little. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEdi?\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes.\u201d Evelin nodded, one too many times to look composed. \u201cHe\u2019s worried about you. And your parents are, too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s could feel the faint flame of his happiness choked by a grey mist sucking away all the air. \u201cMy parents don\u2019t care,\u201d he said, bitterly, and their faces flashed in front of his eyes for the first time since he\u2019d left home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey care more than you think,\u201d Evelin said. Mikl\u00f3s pictured his mother\u2019s high cheekbones and firmly tied brown hair, her slim form wrapped in colourless wool. The dark circles under her eyes were the same colour as her irises. He\u2019d always looked a lot like her, they said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Instead, his father\u2019s wrinkled face was always crumpled in a sneering grimace, even in his memories. \u201cGet to work if you want to eat, you ungrateful brat!\u201d he was saying, as he loved to do all the time. His wife\u2019s voice, trying to soothe, console Mikl\u00f3s, could never get past his croaking tone. Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 weak protests couldn\u2019t, either. Even just their images swept his good mood away and left behind only a wave of discomfort, frustration and bleakness. It still felt familiar, even if he\u2019d pretended to forget all about it ever since the moment he left his bike behind and followed Alexej into the woods.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen I<\/em> don\u2019t care,\u201d he said. \u201cLeave me alone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cBut Edi–\u201d she retorted, her voice breaking with what sounded like anger, her words quietly mouthed but nearly on the brink of exploding in his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTell Edi he can have his life and I\u2019ll have my own,\u201d said Mikl\u00f3s, matching her tone, and the words came as a surprise to him almost as much as to the woman in front of him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Evelin seemed appalled, dismayed, maybe even offended. Her lips pursed in a crooked frown and she clenched her fists. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
She had no right to react like that. She knew nothing. She didn\u2019t know how alike Edi and their father looked, and how strange their difference in personality was. She didn\u2019t know how it had all finally clicked into place, that they were actually much more similar than Mikl\u00f3s had ever thought, when Edi left him behind with nothing more than a shrug.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sure, Edi had taken care of him better than their parents had ever done, and Mikl\u00f3s loved him. Truly, he did, and he realised how much only after Edi was gone. But Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 love had never been enough for Edi, and Edi\u2019s affection wouldn\u2019t be enough for Mikl\u00f3s, either.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
However, through his grated nerves, Mikl\u00f3s realised his firm refusal wasn\u2019t working. Evelin kept getting closer, and the more he pushed back, the more he explained his position, the harder she tried to convince him. It was very similar to his old teacher from middle school, the one who kept pestering him, trying to get him to talk about \u201chis problems at home\u201d. When he did finally tell her, the woman did nothing about it; however, she did stop bothering him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMikl\u00f3s, listen to me,\u201d Evelin called, trying to pull him back from the thoughts he was engrossed in. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He raised his gaze towards her and met an unyielding, however warm, pair of eyes. It would have been a very similar gaze to Alexej\u2019s, if it weren\u2019t for the fact that they were flooded with a kind of warmth that felt all wrong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat man is a wanted criminal,\u201d she explained, her voice rising in tone, anger vibrating in her throat that wasn\u2019t directed at Mikl\u00f3s, but had nowhere else to go. \u201cHe is running from the law. He has no remorse, no qualms about hurting people if he can benefit from it, if he can run one day more.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s looked towards the door of the shop again. He hoped Alexej would be done soon, so that they could do just that, so that they could keep running. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Until then, he thought, maybe he himself should do something about Evelin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He probably wasn\u2019t up to the task, but the idea of how proud Alexej would be, how wide he would smile if Mikl\u00f3s managed to be useful like that, when even the smallest task earned him such sweet praises, was all the motivation he would ever need.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked at Evelin, standing as tall as him, and made a sad expression. He\u2019d always been good at looking sad. \u201cBut\u2026\u201d he murmured, tone disheartened. \u201cHow can that be true? He\u2019s never hurt me…\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Surprisingly, it worked like a charm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Suddenly, her face was much gentler, filled with a sadness that seemed to come from nowhere. \u201cNot yet,\u201d she whispered, and already her voice was but a thin thread filled to the brink with good intentions. \u201cBut he\u2019s like a lone wolf, aggressive and dangerous, and your presence is driving him into a corner, Mikl\u00f3s.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy presence?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s asked earnestly. Maybe she was lying, trying all she could to convince him to leave with her, but he couldn\u2019t ignore the possibility that she somehow knew something more than he did, that what she said was true. \u201cYou mean he could leave me behind anytime soon?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She hesitated. She looked around, too, briefly, then pulled him as far away as possible from the illuminated cones of the streetlights. The sky rumbled, and thin drizzle started to grow into rain. \u201cHe wouldn’t hesitate to seriously hurt you, Mikl\u00f3s,\u201d she sighed. \u201cYou slow him down, and the police are looking for you, too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe police?\u201d Darkness hid both their expressions, and Mikl\u00f3s hoped she\u2019d interpret his worried tone as surprise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYour parents went to them two days after you disappeared.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That was hard to imagine, but also somewhat funny \u2014 the image of his father, lean muscles on mean bones and that perpetually annoyed expression, turning to the police for help. But there was something else worrying Mikl\u00f3s, a question far more important than that fantasy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen\u2026\u201d he whispered, asking with all the innocence he could muster, \u201cwhy are you the one following us, and not the police?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He could feel her go stiff. They weren\u2019t touching anymore, and it was hard to see her clearly in the dimness as the rain started falling harder, wetting clothes, shoes, eyes and words. So, of course, it could have been a mistake impression, a false sense, but Mikl\u00f3s could swear she got nervous, even if that didn\u2019t show at all in her words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m only helping at your brother\u2019s request,\u201d she said with a shrug. \u201cBut I called them, don\u2019t worry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 uneasiness grew into fear, almost as if to defy that encouragement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey\u2019re coming,\u201d Evelin continued, \u201cbut they could arrive too late. You need to help me keep him here for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The very fact that she thought he would play any kind of role in returning home to his parents was a clear sign that she hadn\u2019t been listening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It wasn\u2019t the first time that Mikl\u00f3s had felt like he was about to lose Alexej, and exactly like all the other times, fear seized his insides in an iron grip, and it felt like his whole consciousness fought against the mere idea. But this time, things weren\u2019t going to get better on their own. This time he couldn\u2019t just wait and do nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow long?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s hesitated. He was paralysed in a state of panic — induced by the situation, but worsened by his lack of ideas, and lack of skills to deal with it all. Anger bubbled under the surface of his frustration, and it pushed and pulled him in every direction, and his mind was a numbed chaos of thoughts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe\u2019s up to no good, Mikl\u00f3s,\u201d said Evelin, her voice reaching through all the layers of confusion in his mind. He slapped it away. \u201cPlease, help me bring you home,\u201d she continued. \u201cYour father, your mother, Edi, they\u2019re all waiting for you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She seemed earnest in her request, in her promise to return him to his family. Her words almost sounded like a plea, and Mikl\u00f3s could not deny how well-meaning they sounded. He had no intention of helping her, of course, but if things came to worst \u2014 if what Mikl\u00f3s wanted was not meant to be \u2014 in that case, maybe Evelin could genuinely help him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before the here and now further escaped his attention, Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 chain of thought was interrupted by Alexej\u2019s voice. \u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d it was asking. Even through the rain, it was unmistakable. It could be no one but him, the one always washing all doubts and fears away. His words were all it took to calm Mikl\u00f3s down, to make him feel in control again, to steer his thoughts back on their track.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej opened an umbrella over their heads, and even if the shelter it provided from the rain was quite meagre for three people, it was way better than getting soaked. Water dripped from Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hair, from his clothes, and he looked at the raindrops outlined against the streetlight in front of him, thin black lines over its yellow glow \u2014 he stared at them as an idea consolidated in his mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh, hi!\u201d squealed Evelin. Her voice was always irritating, but now that Mikl\u00f3s had heard what he guessed was her honest way of talking, her tone when she spoke to Alexej grated even harder against his ears. \u201cWe meet again, huh? I was just catching up with your\u2026 brother, while we sheltered from the rain.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s felt Alexej\u2019s gaze burn the back of his head. It took all he had not to turn, not to look towards Evelin, but he managed to keep still, gaze on the asphalt in front of him. He walked ahead, led by the firm hand closed on his shoulder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh, yeah?\u201d Alexej said, his voice suddenly closer, for he\u2019d lowered his head between the two of them. \u201cWhat were you two talking about?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s stepped into a puddle, the splash soaking his jeans even further. For a fleeting moment, he thought about how dirty his shoes could get before he forgot their actual color. For some reason, it seemed incredibly relevant, as if it was a metaphor about Alexej, about himself, about that whole situation, but one he wasn\u2019t ready to completely grasp just yet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Away from his wandering mind, the conversation continued. \u201cOh, we were talking about the places we saw in our travels,\u201d Evelin replied, vaguely. \u201cRight, Mikl\u00f3s?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Of course, all four eyes were on him then, and they forced him to focus on reality again, on the umbrella dripping thick beads of rain on his head each time he stepped forward too fast, on the right leg of his jeans soaked with dirty rainwater, on his hands, fingers made stiff by the humid bite of the wind, on his hair, glued to his face as it was, sticking to his lips, dripping in his mouth. He licked the water away before he finally spoke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe should go,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s said, simply, turning to look Alexej in the eyes, stopping the whole group in its tracks. He hoped his expression was enough, that it conveyed enough, because he knew the second he uttered the first word that Evelin would instantly grow alarmed, and rightly so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej looked confused. It was a strange expression to see on his face \u2014 the unfamiliar way his eyebrows furrowed, and that unique dimple at the side of his forehead that Mikl\u00f3s had never seen before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2019s rude, Miksa,\u201d Alexej said, slowly. \u201cOur friend clearly wants to have a chat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 eyes didn\u2019t follow the gestures Alexej made, clearly pointing at Evelin. He bit his lower lip, hard, as hard as he wished he\u2019d had the readiness to push that woman away, even hit her, if that was what it took. Then, he looked at Alexej\u2019s face for a short moment more, just a little while, to muster his courage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAlexej,\u201d he called, pronouncing the name very clearly, \u201cwe should go<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nAlexej\u2019s eyes went wide and, in the blink of an eye, they filled with anger. Mikl\u00f3s had never seen him angry before, not even once, for Alexej was always so unrealistically kind, but somehow he knew just what to say so that he would be. Maybe he\u2019d learned from the nervousness he\u2019d felt when he was tiptoeing around it before \u2014 when, after they first met Evelin, he\u2019d felt as if he was one wrong move away from unleashing Alexej\u2019s fury, and had to measure his steps and learn how to walk so that he didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This time however, Mikl\u00f3s did not try to walk around anything; on the contrary, he purposely walked right into<\/em> what he guessed would make Alexej mad. Alexej couldn\u2019t know the reason why, and maybe that was why his composure broke so noticeably, even if just for the slightest moment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cApparently,\u201d Alexej said \u2014 his voice flawlessly masking the emotions that he\u2019d let his face express, but his eyes not deigning to give Evelin even the most fleeting stare \u2014 \u201cmy brother is\u2026 very tired. You must excuse him. I\u2019ll be right back, Evelin.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The umbrella disappeared from over Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 head, shoved firmly into Evelin\u2019s hand by Alexej. His movements betrayed a certain haste, obviously a symptom of the state of outrage that had taken him over. Icy fingers closed unceremoniously around Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 wrist and, with that, Alexej pulled him away from Evelin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They walked quickly as if they knew where they were going, or at least as if Alexej did, but the road wasn\u2019t familiar at all, and Mikl\u00f3s was pretty sure Alexej didn\u2019t know the town that well either. Their car was in the alley in the opposite direction, and the street they were following \u2014 with a hurried pace that was very close to running \u2014 was dimly lit, deserted, and led nowhere Mikl\u00f3s could remember from the map.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s struggled along, one badly placed footstep away from slipping and ending up with his face in a puddle. His mind ran as fast as his legs moved, and yet it felt as if it was limping behind Alexej\u2019s, all the same.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When Alexej stopped, his clothes all drenched, his hair dripping and sticking to his face, breath heavy, dishevelled as Mikl\u00f3s had never seen him before, Mikl\u00f3s thought he knew what he had to say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But then Alexej turned, pushed him against the nearest car, strong grip closed on the scruff of his neck, and their faces were so close, and Mikl\u00f3s forgot every word he had prepared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAre you stupid?\u201d Alexej hissed, or maybe yelled over the growls of the budding storm. His face, partially hidden behind blond locks, was traversed by a grimace of anger. Far from being disfiguring, the frown simply drew a map of wrinkles on his forehead. The way he still looked handsome even when he was cross was nothing but unworldly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat were you thinking, Miksa?\u201d Alexej continued after a second that seemed to last an eternity. His voice trembled with the same anger which made his eyes look so very alive, burning with something different, akin to thirst and, at the same time, close to an electrifying thrill. \u201cShe thinks my name is L\u00e1szl\u00f3, can\u2019t you remember something as simple as that?\u201d Alexej growled, frustration drawing yet another wrinkle on his face, and closed his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then, for a moment, he was silent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s realised he hadn\u2019t moved a muscle since his back had first hit the cold metal surface of the car behind him, and when the silence fell, his own lack of reaction weighed on the two of them like an invisible boulder ready to crush them like insects.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The grip on his clothes loosened enough so that he could breathe properly, and wet air inundated his mouth like he was a drowning man. Water poured down as if it wanted to submerge them, but Mikl\u00f3s was so drenched he barely even felt it. A blow of freezing wind brushed some of Alexej\u2019s wet locks away from his forehead and wrapped Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 wet clothes tighter around his own body. Even that was easy to ignore, right then. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
His brain was focused on something else: on its quest to recover the words he had to say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was up to him to do something, to explain. It was his responsibility to warn Alexej against that woman, to make sure that they had a chance, that Alexej had a chance<\/em> at the better life he deserved, the one Mikl\u00f3s had silently promised he\u2019d get him.<\/p>\n\n\n\nHis hand was trembling when it rose, reaching for Alexej\u2019s face. It stopped short of it, resting on his shoulder, instead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t start crying now,\u201d sighed Alexej, grating irritation stopping in its tracks when his eyes opened and saw that all the water on Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 face belonged to the sky above, and there was no grief or suffering in his firm gaze, but only sheer trust.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAle\u0161, please, listen to me,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s murmured, his voice growing from thin fog to something solid, however shapeless. \u201cShe called the police on you,\u201d he said to Alexej\u2019s eyes, growing wide. \u201cOn us<\/em>,\u201d he corrected, then.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cShe did what<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nAlexej put some distance between them, and the sudden distance was like a slap in the face. At least Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hand, the one on Alexej\u2019s shoulder, found its place inside the other\u2019s grip, with a movement that somehow eluded Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 own awareness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s almost couldn\u2019t find the words. He struggled for a moment before remembering a language, any language, again. \u201cShe\u2019s an investigator,\u201d he explained. \u201cMy brother sent her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He was about to offer his apologies \u2014 it was his fault after all; he was only causing more and more trouble, and he knew Alexej didn\u2019t need that, but Mikl\u00f3s would help, he would do anything that was asked of him, to just be there, with Alexej, for as long as fate would allow, so please-<\/em>–<\/p>\n\n\n\nThe sound came before Mikl\u00f3s was even aware of the fist closing at Alexej\u2019s side and then being thrown dangerously close to his face. He barely had the time to flinch before shattered glass flew all around, covering everything in a shower of shards so tiny they almost mixed with the rain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For a long moment, Mikl\u00f3s thought a second punch would be thrown, and that the aim would be true, that time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then he saw some kind of tool in Alexej\u2019s grip, maybe a screwdriver, disappearing back into one of his coat\u2019s pockets. Alexej pushed him to the side and worked to open the car door from the inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGet in,\u201d he said. His expression was hard to interpret: a single line ran between his furrowed eyebrows, and his jaw was contracted in a stiff frown.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s looked at Alexej, then at the car, a dark red sedan with shiny leather seats. His mind was still trying to understand whether the crumbs of glass on the ground, on their clothes, and inside the car were the product of a fit of rage. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Their gazes met, and even the rain felt warmer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou were right.\u201d Alexej nodded. \u201cWe should go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s took the time to quickly brush glass pieces from his clothes, then got inside the car. He took his place on the passenger seat and reached for the safety lock on the other door, to open it for Alexej.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej climbed inside with a rock in one hand and the screwdriver from before in the other, then hammered the tool inside the ignition switch with as much skilful precision one could possibly have in a situation like that. It was almost mesmerising to watch, the rock falling violently on the tool\u2019s handle with a sharp sound, the whole car vibrating with the hit, Alexej\u2019s teeth biting his lower lip, and the thunder outside covering all those sounds like an unforeseen accomplice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It took at least a couple of minutes before the screwdriver was turning in the ignition like a key, and the engine was groaning to life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat about our things?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s asked, as Alexej shrugged off the small backpack he\u2019d been carrying and handed it to him. It was all they had brought along; the rest of their possessions was packed in the car they\u2019d left behind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll get new things,\u201d shrugged Alexej, as he pushed on the gas and set off for a place away from there. \u201cYou needed some new clothes, anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s turned to meet Alexej\u2019s expression, and found a smile unfurling on his wet face. They were both drenched to the bone, dirty, and in dire need of a warm shower. They had nothing but a backpack with a roadmap, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a small bundle of banknotes, and enough food to eat that night.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI also need a new pair of shoes,\u201d he added, half-aloud.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej grinned. \u201cYou ask, I shall provide,\u201d he promised, flashing a cheerful look at Mikl\u00f3s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The storm growled, and they didn\u2019t even have an umbrella, but Mikl\u00f3s laughed. They were alive and free, and they were together, and it was all worth it. Everything else was too heavy, and he left it behind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They did get new clothes, and a new pair of shoes for Mikl\u00f3s, even if it did take some time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For the warm shower, however, they had to wait much longer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In fact, it was more than a week before Mikl\u00f3s saw anything but the woods, their campfires, and a number of different cars, some well-kept, most looking like they had been barely rescued from the junk trade. And even when they did sleep in a roadside hotel, it was a small, forgotten one in terrible shape, and Alexej paid a whole lot for it; they stayed one night and then left to spend another week on the run.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Those days on the road, they hid as deep inside the woods as they could. They parked a car somewhere, then left it there and walked in a completely different direction. They chose the most sheltered place they could find to camp for the night, then separated. Alexej headed towards the closest town, got something to eat and drink, and provided them with another car, and Mikl\u00f3s stayed back to light and tend to a small fire, and to do whatever was asked and needed of him, ranging from cooking to \u201cjust staying there and waiting\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Those were lonely hours. Even though Mikl\u00f3s did what Alexej asked without offering any kind of protest, he suffered through that solitude. Even though all their waking hours \u2014 and sometimes even Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 dreams \u2014 were filled with the urgency of the escape and the fear that they would be found, every moment on his own was a moment Mikl\u00f3s felt lonely. He suffered every second he spent away from Alexej, not just because he was alone, but because he felt like it all confirmed that he was being a nuisance, a dead weight. That Evelin had been right, and he was the one driving Alexej into a corner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe he should have left with Evelin and let Alexej run without him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The northern borders of Hungary were embraced by a fierce cold that made the memory of Slovenia\u2019s winters feel like a warm autumn in comparison. It was hostile, but it was quiet, and it felt like the rest of the world would be just as hostile, anyway. The rain soon turned into snow that made everything colourless, and ice that made roads and wood trails equally slippery, but covering their tracks and misdirecting potential pursuers got easier.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some nights, with their campfire put out to avoid signalling their position, the wet cold froze their fingers as if trying to make them fall off. A tent and two sleeping bags didn\u2019t seem enough protection from the cold anymore, and they huddled together in the backseat of the running car, instead, heating turned on at the maximum setting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Those nights, it felt as if winter itself was just trying to help, after all. Those nights, Alexej\u2019s arms around him felt the closest Mikl\u00f3s had ever come to happiness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And yet the warmth melting his guts, cradling him in and out of sleep to the rhythm of Alexej\u2019s breathing, was fake. Not because it wasn\u2019t brought by the summer sun, and not because the closeness of their bodies was only forced by the situation. No, it was tainted because Alexej didn\u2019t whistle a single song, because he went to sleep without reading, didn\u2019t say a single word about any of his favourite conversation topics, fell asleep even before Mikl\u00f3s did, and his expression didn\u2019t look peaceful, not even in his sleep. It was spoiled by the dull edges of Alexej\u2019s smile when he said, \u201cCome closer, it\u2019s warmer here,\u201d the first night, and when he simply opened his arms the nights afterwards, his hug physically there, yet so terribly far away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The days all bled into each other, equally dull and grey, and in the background was that same scenario of white nature and cold winter. It followed them to the north-east edge of Hungary, near the Slovakian border, which they approached but didn\u2019t dare cross, for everyone would be on alert, and it would be hard to, as Alexej explained. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Their days weren\u2019t boring, as neither of them really had enough time to be bored, but they weren’t eventful, either. They were neither happy nor tragic. They were nothing, really, and it felt like they were living in this limbo at arm\u2019s length from the consequences of reality. But reality was getting closer, reality was at their heels, and they had no choice but to run from it or yield to it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When he was alone, Mikl\u00f3s spent hours daydreaming, thinking about what he could do to make things better, coming up with conversation topics he promptly forgot the instant Alexej came back, remembering stories to tell in front of the fire, imagining presents he could get for Alexej once in the city. Sometimes, the thoughts ebbed into dreams and he opened his eyes again to the deep black of the night sky, with Alexej resting silently beside him and the ashes from the fire crackling their last existence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When one night that didn\u2019t happen \u2014 when he woke up to a starry night with the fire, still warm at his feet, shining its soft light on him alone \u2014 Mikl\u00f3s felt his lungs close up. The air in them was blocked in the trap of his chest, constricted by a feeling of dread coiling around his abdomen and his neck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It didn\u2019t last long, for Alexej came out of the woods moments afterwards, broken twigs creaking under his shoes as he got closer. He had a bundle of fabric in his hands. Mikl\u00f3s sat straight, air coming back to his lungs as he realised the sounds Alexej made as he walked closer were the reason why he had woken up in the first place, and that the dimension they were in hadn\u2019t collapsed on their heads just yet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej stepped towards the fire, stood in front of it, and threw the fabric from his hands into the flames. It was a bundle of clothes, and Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 only just awake mind didn\u2019t process much beside the fact that they were women’s clothes. He could tell from the undergarments, from the bra, and the pair of panties that fell into the fire and disintegrated before he could even be sure of their colour. The jacket and sweatshirt that followed them looked very familiar. They were all stained with a dark colour, which Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t get the chance to identify before the clothes were turned into a blackened mess writhing at the heart of the campfire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s thought about asking, but when his eyes darted up again, Alexej, burning fabric reflected in his gaze, had a content little smile on his face. It made Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 gut squirm in what could very well have been dread, but Mikl\u00f3s chose to interpret as a rush of excitement, as the foretelling sign of a better mood on Alexej\u2019s part. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
However, his embrace that night didn\u2019t feel any warmer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The newspapers in the back of the car had their faces on them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s saw them when he woke up, the next morning, awoken by a young sunray hitting the right side of his face. Sunrise\u2019s light was pale and cold, and it made the white landscape around them look even more colourless and icy. It made him shiver. The inside of the car wasn\u2019t even that cold, but Alexej\u2019s arms, loosely wrapped around his shoulders, kept him in an uncomfortable position and, in trying to move, he\u2019d caused the sleeping bag they were using as comforter to slide down, exposing one of his shoulders.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He saw the papers at his feet as he shifted in Alexej\u2019s hug \u2014 while his fingers caressed Alexej\u2019s hands, which were resting in the middle of his chest; Mikl\u00f3s tried to pull the comforter back up, and as he did, he saw them, all crumpled on the car\u2019s floor, with their faces on the pages. He couldn\u2019t read the titles or the articles, but he was sure of what he had seen. His was an old picture from a couple of years before, taken from a group photo for school. Alexej\u2019s must have been even older. His eyes, his high cheekbones and the sharp line of his jaw were the same, but his hair were darker and his cheeks fuller. He looked much closer in age to Mikl\u00f3s. His expression looked angry, or maybe just annoyed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s stared at the newspaper page from afar for what seemed like the longest time. He stared right into the eyes of that black-and-white younger version of Alexej, as if asking it questions that he knew would only be answered by mute stares. Even after looking away, after forcing his eyes shut to try and get a little more sleep, the thought of those pictures didn\u2019t leave his mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He felt disrespected, violated, at the thought that his face was on a newspaper. It irritated him: what right did they have to do something like that? What did they know about his reasons? Why did no one ever wonder what he had to say about things? It seemed as if no one but Alexej had ever bothered to treat him like a person with his own wishes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He wondered if Alexej\u2019s past was anything like that. Maybe he shared that same experience. Maybe the papers made him just as angry, just as annoyed. Maybe, in that picture from years before, he was unsatisfied and bubbling with hatred towards the rest of the world, too. That must have been why they fit together so well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the same time, the photos on the newspaper answered a question Mikl\u00f3s hadn\u2019t ever meant to ask. It told him why they were staying so far from every inhabited area, and why Mikl\u00f3s always had to stay behind. It explained why Mikl\u00f3s was alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s had never asked the question, not even to himself, too worried that the answer would be difficult to accept. And even if this answer reassured him, he hated it all the same.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hours later, that hatred still hadn\u2019t subsided.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej was about to leave, backpack on his shoulder, ready to be filled with whatever they needed. That day it was food, and, possibly, an extra blanket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo, would you prefer canned beans, chicken broth, or pea soup?\u201d Alexej smiled from the other side of the campfire, his good mood not exactly matching Mikl\u00f3s\u2019. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCan\u2019t I come with you this time?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s asked, half aloud. He realised the words had come out loudly enough for Alexej to hear only when he saw him move closer, circling the fire, instead of leaving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOur next stop isn\u2019t too far away,\u201d sighed Alexej, gripping Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shoulder delicately. \u201cJust wait some more and we\u2019ll get a hotel room again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s looked up, taking in Alexej\u2019s comforting face. He really did want to believe that was the solution, simple, easy and effortless, that sleeping somewhere comfortable and warm would help with his mood \u2014 and it probably would. But as long as he couldn\u2019t follow Alexej in his errands, he\u2019d still be alone for hours at a time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s forced himself to voice those thoughts, to be spontaneous, as Alexej once said he liked him to be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t want a hotel room,\u201d he said, shaking his head. \u201cI want to come with you. I want to help you out.\u201d He wanted to point his eyes at Alexej\u2019s \u2014 he imagined himself doing that, but couldn\u2019t will himself to put that thought into reality, and stared at the frozen ground instead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat is not possible right now.\u201d Alexej\u2019s voice showered him with ice. His grip on Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shoulder went tighter, then loosened, and the hand fell motionless by Alexej\u2019s side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not daring to look up, but still set on going to the heart of the problem, Mikl\u00f3s wondered for a moment whether he wanted to ask about the papers or not. Then he took a deep breath and decided to trust Alexej to give him a good answer, to trust Alexej to be and do exactly what he needed, as it had always been so far. He didn\u2019t know what answer he wanted but, somewhere inside him, he believed Alexej would know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIs it because of the photos in the newspapers?\u201d asked Mikl\u00f3s. He raised his gaze, and what he saw was a pair of wide blue eyes, raised eyebrows, and lips drawn in a thin line. In front of him, Alexej nodded, lips curling down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s just a matter of weeks anyway.\u201d The words Alexej pronounced were heaved out, as if talking about it caused him terrible strain in itself. \u201cThey\u2019ll forget.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s agreed, but the weight hadn\u2019t lifted off his chest yet, and his heart kept drumming with dissatisfaction. \u201cBut your picture is on there, too,\u201d he voiced, then once again lowered his gaze, because the coldness in Alexej\u2019s gaze scorched worse than putting his face in the embers of the campfire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy can you go and I can\u2019t?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s finally asked, voice reduced to a whisper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a long moment of silence, filled only by the crackling of the fire and the whistle of the wind over their head. When Alexej finally spoke, his voice was just as hard as his eyes had been a moment before, and yet not an edge of anger touched it. It was hard to say whether he was upset or simply serious. \u201cBecause I\u2019m experienced,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That did nothing but confirm Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 doubts, his fears. \u201cSo I am<\/em> holding you back,\u201d he pondered out loud, feeling suddenly emptied.<\/p>\n\n\n\nAlexej snorted. The mere sound hit Mikl\u00f3s worse than a slap in the face could have, reminded him of how it felt back home, when he\u2019d say something and no one would be willing to listen. \u201cDo you need to start complaining now?\u201d Alexej said, his tone heavy with annoyance. \u201cI\u2019m on a schedule, you know that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
From the emptiness inside Mikl\u00f3s, deep down, a thick, oppressive sac grew larger and larger, until it was pressing behind his eyes, and burst into a million tears. He was shaken by sobs before even realising that the tears in his eyes had spilled out and his face was wet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m just a dead weight, aren\u2019t I?\u201d he whispered, or maybe screamed, for his ears seemed deaf to anything but the occasional howl of the wind. He desperately tried to control his whimpers, hiccups less occasional but just as violent as the wind blowing far over his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMiksa.\u201d Alexej bowed his head, so that he stood eye-to-eye with Mikl\u00f3s. \u201cHow many times do I have to say that I like your company? Don\u2019t you believe me?\u201d Alexej held him by the shoulders, both hands gently clasped on them on either side of his neck. The ice in his eyes hadn\u2019t melted; even if his voice was gentler, softer, that didn\u2019t hide its edge completely. The words should have reassured Mikl\u00f3s, they should have made him feel better, but they didn\u2019t, and all he could think about was how empty they were when there was absolutely no reason for them to be true.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe there had been something between them, an instinctive feeling of kinship when they met. But was that enough to last?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBut–\u201d he protested, and almost swallowed his words when Alexej\u2019s brow furrowed even more. But then he didn\u2019t say anything, waiting for Mikl\u00f3s to continue, and it felt as if just with that he was prying the words out of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 mouth, in the form of half-voiced murmurs. \u201cYou\u2019ll stop liking me if I\u2019m useless…\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s jaws went stiff, his lips exposing a portion of clenched white teeth. \u201cI\u2019ll stop liking you if you keep acting like a brat,\u201d he grunted, voice rumbling inside him more than outside. His hands moved to hold Mikl\u00f3s by the scruff of his neck, almost lifting his feet from the ground. \u201cListen to me: You\u2019ll go into town when I say you can go into town, and that\u2019s what,\u201d Alexej said, articulating the words carefully, one by one. \u201cI know what\u2019s better for you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then he let Mikl\u00f3s go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s hands settled by his sides, and a shadow of bewilderment passed across his face. Mikl\u00f3s stared at him in a state of mind halfway between emptiness and shock. Those last words echoed in Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 mind, in Alexej\u2019s voice just as many times as they had in his father\u2019s. He took a couple of steps back, stumbling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That couldn\u2019t be Alexej. He couldn\u2019t mean that. He wasn\u2019t like that, and Mikl\u00f3s refused to accept he could be. He felt tears well up in his eyes even more than before, and he let them out, felt disgusting in his sniffling, sighing, sobbing, all on the verge of bawling like a misbehaved child.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He turned and started walking away, going nowhere, anywhere but there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWait, Miksa.\u201d Alexej\u2019s voice came from behind him, and it had suddenly lost all edge. It wasn\u2019t enough to stop him, not right then. \u201cWhere are you going?\u201d it went on, alarmed, and Mikl\u00f3s put foot after foot on the ground he could barely see, fast, as fast as he could. \u201cMikl\u00f3s, where are you going?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The voice didn\u2019t seem further away despite his frantic walking, so Mikl\u00f3s hastened his pace. He slammed against a tree, almost lost his balance, felt its bark scratch the side of his cheek, shoved himself away from it and pushed forward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou know as well as I do that you can\u2019t do it alone. Mikl\u00f3s!\u201d Alexej continued, and his voice was even closer than before. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s kept walking, or running, or that clumsy mix of the two he was doing. Then he tripped over something \u2014 the roots of a tree, a hole in the ground, a rock, he had no idea \u2014 and prepared to feel the impact of the snowy earth on his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He never did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Firmly closed around his wrist, keeping him from falling face-first into mud, was Alexej\u2019s hand. He pulled Mikl\u00f3s close with a swift gesture and supported him with a hand around his waist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMiksa,\u201d he called, kind as ever, with that tone that no one but Alexej had ever used with Mikl\u00f3s. A long, deep breath followed. \u201cDon\u2019t leave me. Please.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej had never sounded like that \u2014 raw, vulnerable, almost insecure. His voice quivered as he pleaded like that, and even though Mikl\u00f3s always thought Alexej had all the power, that he could do everything he wanted and always come out on top of every situation, in that moment he felt like that had a limit, and the limit was somewhere inside those words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou said you never wanted to leave my side,\u201d murmured Alexej, as Mikl\u00f3s straightened up. \u201cDid you already change your mind?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s eyes wandered for a moment, briefly, as if simply looking around, then came back to stare right into him. Even though Mikl\u00f3s was standing on his own two feet now, Alexej never withdrew his supporting arm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI–\u201d Mikl\u00f3s stuttered, caught completely off guard. The emptiness inside him still ached, but the thought of pushing Alexej away hurt even more. He realised the tense expression that must have been nailed on his face only when it softened. His stiff jaw, his teeth grinding against each other behind closed lips, and his eyebrows stretched in a queasy line, they all opened up, unwinded, loosened. \u201cYou scared me,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEven if I scare you, you can\u2019t leave, Miksa.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej took Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 chin between his fingers and pushed it up, making Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 raise his gaze and catching it in the trap of his own. They stared at each other for a time that was so long it went from feeling awkward to almost desirable. Then Alexej broke the contact and walked back towards the camp, pulling him along.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Following behind, more out of inertia than will, Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t seem to silence the voices in his mind; they suggested several different questions, all ready on his tongue, but not strong enough for Mikl\u00f3s to find the will to voice them. That was until the fire of the camp came into sight, and his growing restlessness becoming unbearable, he spoke. \u201cI won\u2019t leave,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 said, voice faltering along with his steps. \u201cBut… \u201c<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej stopped in his tracks. He didn\u2019t turn, but the hand he had wrapped around Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 own squeezed lightly. Mikl\u00f3s stared at his nape, mind filling the gaps of his eyesight, limited in the dimness. Then, he took a deep breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou never tell me why,\u201d he said, returning the squeeze on Alexej\u2019s hand. That gave him the confidence to ask another question, maybe the right one. \u201cWhy is staying behind, alone, better for me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej took a moment to finally turn. Once he did, he directed a sad gaze toward Mikl\u00f3s, and even the shape of his eyes seemed turned downwards. His gaze, however, was firmly aimed at Mikl\u00f3s\u2019. \u201cI\u2019m trying to protect you,\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In that moment Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 emptiness, the void he\u2019d been feeling, felt miraculously filled. It was sudden, but it was as if the void shrank and warmed with every beat of his heart, at the same time as Alexej walked closer and then pulled him into a hug.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s arms encircled Mikl\u00f3s and his left hand gingerly brushed his hair, and Mikl\u00f3s listened to the rest of his words with an ear against his chest, seconds marked by the rhythm of Alexej\u2019s quiet breathing and of his strong beating heart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo many bad things could happen to you if you came into town,\u201d explained Alexej. \u201cSo many things could happen to you if you left me.\u201d There was a pause, in which Alexej sighed, shifting on his feet and holding Mikl\u00f3s tighter. \u201cI can\u2019t allow that,\u201d he murmured, almost too quietly for anyone but himself to hear. \u201cI can\u2019t risk losing you. Do you understand?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For the longest moment, Mikl\u00f3s had no reaction. Even much later, he had no idea what reaction he should have had, because those words seemed impossible, almost a lie. But Alexej\u2019s voice had quivered in such an unfamiliar way, had sounded so vulnerable and intense \u2014 and Mikl\u00f3s would never have believed Alexej wanted to lie to him, anyway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For a while, they simply stood in the quiet of the sunset woods, unconcerned with the cold, the wind, or the passing time. Mikl\u00f3s burrowed his head into Alexej\u2019s chest and reciprocated the hug, wrapping his arms around him. Alexej kept playing with his hair, lazily, his warm breath occasionally puffing against Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 forehead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo you want to go into town this badly?\u201d Alexej said, after a while, breaking that unreal but comfortable silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s thought about it for a moment. \u201cI don\u2019t like being left behind,\u201d he replied, and if his voice trembled, it was with anger, for he thought about how that was exactly what Edi had done. \u201cI want to be useful, to help you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej listened. He nodded slowly, and caressed Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hair some more. The gesture was soothing, relaxing, so much that Mikl\u00f3s thought he could spend the whole night like that. \u201cAs soon as possible,\u201d said Alexej, \u201cwe\u2019ll get a room in the best hotel I can find.\u201d It sounded like a promise, and Mikl\u00f3s trusted it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But it wasn\u2019t everything he wanted to be promised.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej broke the hug, to look Mikl\u00f3s in the eyes. \u201dWe can sleep in the same bed if it makes you feel better,\u201d he said, a big smile widening on his lips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s felt himself blush, his cheeks burning even against the winter cold. \u201cThat–that\u2019s not–\u201d he tried to protest, stuttering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej chuckled, quiet, low, his mouth covered by one hand. \u201cI\u2019ll solve this,\u201d he promised, \u201cand we\u2019ll spend more time together. You have my word. Or do you still wish to leave?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s forgot his insecurities, worries and embarrassment. The bad taste in his mouth melted into a smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYour word\u2019s enough, Ale\u0161,\u201d he assured him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And when Alexej\u2019s lips \u2014 soft, warm, and only slightly wet \u2014 kissed his forehead, Mikl\u00f3s had no doubt that what he\u2019d just said was absolutely true.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s trusted Alexej. He did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He knew that when Alexej said he was trying to protect him, he wasn\u2019t lying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If he had to explain how he knew, he could have offered nothing but a shrug of his shoulders, for there was no rational reasoning behind his conviction. But Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t need a reason to trust Alexej, and he didn\u2019t need to justify himself, not to anyone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
However, what Alexej had said wouldn\u2019t stop haunting his thoughts. The fact that Alexej wanted to keep him safe made his heart soar with happiness and swell with glee. But at the same time, it meant that Alexej didn\u2019t believe he could keep himself safe; it meant that Mikl\u00f3s was, in fact, being a weight he had to carry, a burden.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He didn\u2019t want to be that. Anything but that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Therefore, when he followed Alexej into town, the next day, he did it knowing he shouldn\u2019t have. He knew it would make Alexej worried, and then angry, but he also knew that this was a chance to probe himself. If Mikl\u00f3s followed Alexej, did what he wanted to do, and then came back to their camp without getting into trouble, he would have proven he could look out for himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And so he did, and it was going well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The night before, Alexej had fallen asleep before him, and after a time spent staring at the tense line of his lips, the idea had taken shape in Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 mind. He took some money from Alexej\u2019s wallet \u2014 he remembered him having a black leather one, but when he searched the pockets of Alexej\u2019s coat and found it, it was made of blue, worn-out fabric. Inside was nothing but a fat bunch of banknotes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He took some money because he wanted to get Alexej a present; Christmas was close, after all. He thought he\u2019d get a music tape, maybe, since he knew too little about literature to buy a good book, and he thought he\u2019d pay for it because he didn\u2019t want to risk attracting attention to himself, and that seemed like a good way to do that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He planned on following Alexej, but still memorised the map, just to be safe. He pleasantly smiled a farewell when Alexej left. He waited what seemed like an endless time before following him, until no sound could be heard from where he sat except for the quiet whispering of the wind and the crackling of the fire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then, he left.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He half-followed in Alexej\u2019s steps, half-followed his memory of the map in the places where the traces Alexej left behind were faint, or simply concealed. Alexej\u2019s footsteps in the snow were much less clear than Mikl\u00f3s had expected, and the route he had taken through the woods much more convoluted. If the sun hadn’t still been up \u2014 however orange its dying light \u2014 Mikl\u00f3s would probably have missed the trail completely. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He followed in Alexej\u2019s steps as much as possible, concealed his traces as best he could where Alexej seemed to have done it, and at some points, even where he hadn\u2019t. The town should have been a half-hour walk from their camp, but with all those deviations, the sun had already set under the horizon when he arrived.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The town was a small cluster of low buildings with fields surrounding it on two sides, while the woods bounded it on the others. A large road ran straight through the middle of it, and the town was built around it, as if it was feeding on the road, the alleys acting as its mouths. Mikl\u00f3s had no idea where Alexej was, and whether he was done with his own errands, but he hoped he wasn\u2019t, so Mikl\u00f3s could be sure to return before him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
It took some walking aimlessly and a bit of conspicuous asking around to find a place that sold what Mikl\u00f3s was looking for. He was worried that someone would recognise him, or just notice him, but the old woman of whom he asked directions \u2014 wrapped in a coat and a large scarf that covered her head \u2014 pointed him in the right direction without asking questions, without staring at him or looking suspicious; the music shop she recommended, all varnished dark wood, greeted him inside with a silence interrupted by the door\u2019s loud ting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The inside of the shop was empty, except for the salesman sitting behind the counter with an electric heater at his feet. Mikl\u00f3s went straight to him, asking for something he believed Alexej would like. It sounded strange on his tongue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Without moving from his seat, the salesman picked out a tape from a box of dust-covered cassettes that stood right next to the counter \u2014 a faded \u201con sale\u201d sign hanging loose on its corner \u2014 and then handed it to Mikl\u00f3s. \u201cYou\u2019re from around town, are you?\u201d asked the salesman, greying hair on top of a balding, round head. He looked at the banknote in Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hand without taking it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was then that, through the shop window, Mikl\u00f3s saw Alexej. He had expected to see him around town, of course, and hoped not to be seen himself, but what attracted his attention and tied his stomach in a knot was someone else\u2019s presence at Alexej\u2019s side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI am in a hurry, sir, sorry,\u201d he muttered, hurriedly, barely realising what he was saying. \u201cI don\u2019t have much time to chat,\u201d he said, putting the banknote down on the cluttered counter. His head was turned towards the outside of the shop, trying not to lose sight of Alexej, and he didn\u2019t deign to look at the clerk a second time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The unfamiliar boy his eyes were fixed on was shorter than Alexej. He was very close to Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 own height, actually, and, as far as he could tell from afar, he was very close to Mikl\u00f3s in age too. He had slicked-back brown hair, its tips brushing against his shoulders, and was wrapped in clothes too large for his body, which hung on his frame, making him look smaller than he was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The boy and Alexej turned a corner, and the salesman was still there, counting the change. Mikl\u00f3s almost left him there. He couldn\u2019t, of course, not if he wanted to appear as a customer like any other, yet he couldn\u2019t help but nervously tap his feet on the parquet floor. At that, however, Alexej eyed him with a strange expression, his lips drawing a slanted line on his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The tension building inside Mikl\u00f3s made the details of his plan seem so inconsequential that Mikl\u00f3s decided to ignore that. With half of his change in hand, he rushed out of the shop, the cassette of Schumann\u2019s Kinderszenen in C<\/em> sitting snugly in his pocket, and then he hurried towards the alley he\u2019d seen Alexej disappear into. To the nagging voice in the back of his head, reminding him how reckless he had been in acting oddly like that, Mikl\u00f3s simply replied that no one had cared about him so far, no matter how strangely he acted, and they wouldn\u2019t start caring now.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThe town itself wasn\u2019t deserted per se, but whoever walked around would surely have a hard time trying to hide in a non-existent crowd. It wasn\u2019t easy to guess where the two had gone, but it was hard not to catch loud sounds from the streets around: Once Mikl\u00f3s heard, from afar, the sound of Alexej\u2019s laugh, he knew he was on the right track.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He caught a glimpse of them from behind a corner, four turns and five empty streets away from the music shop. Alexej was talking about something with his usual enthusiasm \u2014 which Mikl\u00f3s had frankly missed in the previous weeks \u2014 painted on his face and obvious in his gestures.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s held the cassette close, seething with a bubbling feeling that originated from the knot in his guts. He stayed back and looked as Alexej led the boy outside town, walking north on the main road, towards the woods. He only followed behind when he was more than convinced that there would be no risk of Alexej seeing him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The night was lit by gentle moonlight, and the stars were as bright as in Dobrovnik. The wind howled above the roofs, over the canopy of the woods, and only occasionally lowered its icy breath to the ground. It was a cold night, and a couple of darker clouds sat on the horizon. Judging from the wind and its direction, they would obscure the sky over that town in no more than a couple of hours.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s felt like those swollen grey clouds were but a manifestation of the unspecified, shapeless anguish he felt as he ventured in the woods after Alexej and that boy. The only thing that had made Mikl\u00f3s wait, that had kept him from walking up to Alexej to ask him what was happening, was the thought of how mad Alexej would be: if Mikl\u00f3s approached Alexej now, without notice or explanation, his worry, his rightful annoyance at Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 lies, would easily explode into anger, and that froze Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 legs in place. He purposefully lost sight of them, stayed in place until the two were so far away that all he could do was follow the traces they left behind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The winter woods were quiet. The season drove all kinds of animals back to their nests, for all the cold months or just for the night. Hooting owls were the only other living beings Mikl\u00f3s could occasionally hear besides himself; foxes, deer, hares were all very quiet, and quick to hide. Mikl\u00f3s would easily be able to hear if Alexej or the boy spoke, even from a distance, for it would be easy to tell the sound of a human voice apart from that of night animals crawling out of their nests. However, he heard nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Their traces, at least, were easy to follow, even for someone inexperienced. The footprints were clear enough: the snow was still soft in most places, and it showed a trail of firm, secure steps, almost invisible in the undergrowth, and an irregular, stumbling trail behind it, which, in the absence of snow, was made up of broken twigs and branches, sometimes pieces of bark. Surely that couldn’t be Alexej, could it?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s tried not to think of anything, not to think of possible explanations of any kind. The hypotheses his brain was producing sat at the edge of his conscious thoughts and stayed there, exiled. He concentrated instead on following the tracks ahead of him. He didn\u2019t realise it right away, but he quickened his pace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Despite his senses being as alert as possible \u2014 he could feel them straining like muscles pushed to their limit \u2014 despite his brain being focused on the task at hand, he could feel his throat closing, choking his breath, holding on to the air inside of his body, as desperately as his brain was latching onto even the smallest noise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For what seemed almost too long, that tension was useless. Like invisible tendrils reaching out desperately, his senses sought anything that could confirm he was following the right tracks, with no result. It frustrated him and brewed fear inside him, fear that he would get lost, or be found \u2014 which was worse, it was hard to say. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
And yet that same tension pushed him forward, because he needed to see, because he deserved to know, because whoever that boy was, however unimportant, Mikl\u00f3s wanted to know about him; because Alexej should not leave him alone all the time, lonely and feeling like a piece of him had been violently ripped away. Mikl\u00f3s could not allow it anymore. Alexej had said, once, that from that moment on Mikl\u00f3s should never leave his side. But he had never kept that word, and Mikl\u00f3s wanted him to, more than anything else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Soon, he caught up with the two; the irregular sound of steps \u2014 creaking leaves and rasping snow under unsteady shoes \u2014 echoed faintly through the forest path. Without realising, Mikl\u00f3s found himself walking faster still, almost running, until a voice broke the silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Here,” it said. It sounded like Alexej\u2019s voice \u2014 Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t be more sure \u2014 but there was a vibration in it, like the fangs of a sharp smile, the edge of a feeling of ecstasy. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s halted in place. The footprints proceeded south, off the trodden path, and this time, following them, Mikl\u00f3s moved slowly, and as silently as possible, heart throbbing in his throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“This place looks perfect, don’t you think?” he heard Alexej continue, once again with that strange edge in his voice. He sounded amused, somehow, and satisfied too. However, there was no reply to his question but a muffled sound, nothing more than a grunt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s almost stumbled on an exposed root, and clearly heard a leaf crunch under his last step. He had to stop completely still, and put a hand on his mouth to help hold his breath; when an instinctive inhale dilated his nostrils, he pushed harder and held his nose to stifle it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Oh, come on.” Alexej\u2019s voice seemed to reverberate through him like music, and Mikl\u00f3s took in each word, as he slowly walked closer to their source. “I know you don’t want it, but at least you could appreciate my choice of location.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a thud, a rustle of leaves and a breaking of twigs, closer and closer, and Mikl\u00f3s crouched down, hiding in the thinning vegetation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You’re hurting me now,” Alexej said, his voice a low, raspy melody reduced to the volume of a whisper, a purr that sent a shiver down Mikl\u00f3s’ spine, straight to his groin. “I thought you liked me,” continued Alexej, with that same tone, and it was then that, crouched behind a bush, Mikl\u00f3s was hit with the realisation of just how much he liked that voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The other person finally spoke. Mikl\u00f3s first heard his breathing, ragged and heavy, and then his voice rang out, the strain in it making it sound shrill and desperate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Please,\u201d it begged, \u201cI’ll do anything!”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was raw, uncontrolled fear in that unfamiliar voice, and a similar feeling coiled around Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 whole being, starting from his feet up to his ears. Then, there was a moment of silence that felt like a punch in the guts that pushed all air out of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 lungs. He wasn\u2019t visibly shaking, but he felt like he was, the tips of his fingers trembling until he closed his hands into a fist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“If you put it like that,\u201d murmured Alexej, his mellow voice carried by the wind, \u201cthere is something that you can do for me.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s peeked out of his hiding place, looking into the clearing between the trees. The moon still towered high in the night sky, shedding its pale light on two figures leaning against a tree, on the edge of the small clearing, only metres away from where Mikl\u00f3s was crouched.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The boy, hair now all dishevelled sticking to his bloodied face, stood wide-eyed, his wrists tied behind his back. With hair falling in front of his eyes, his resemblance to Mikl\u00f3s was striking. He had been pushed against the tree by Alexej, whose right hand was holding him by the scruff of the neck, and whose left hand was hidden behind his back, firmly holding a blade that reflected the moon\u2019s gaze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 first reaction was confusion: his mind slowed down, trying to wrap itself around this situation, to merge the image he had of Alexej \u2014 one of cozy warm hugs he fell asleep in \u2014 with the one right in front of him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Reality, however, was faster. Alexej in particular was, because, before Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 mind could catch up, Alexej\u2019s lips were planted on those of the other boy, wet with blood from his nose and tears from his eyes. The kiss was messy and aggressive; it looked like Alexej was trying to devour the boy, more than kiss him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then moonlight flashed in Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 eyes, and in the space of a blink, the box cutter Alexej was holding in his left hand sank into the other\u2019s guts. Blood spouted from the boy\u2019s mouth, in the middle of their kiss, gurgling with the choked scream that followed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
With the kiss interrupted, and the blade withdrawn at Alexej\u2019s side, their contact was severed, and the boy stumbled on his feet, hands fruitlessly trying to contain the sea of red quickly staining his shirt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej stood, gaze enraptured by the boy\u2019s struggle, blood dripping from his hand, from the cutter, and smeared all over his face by the kiss. He watched, with that eerily delighted expression painted on his face, as the boy fell to his knees, as if praying. Then he grabbed the boy\u2019s hair, pulling his head up and drawing their faces close to each other. He spoke in a hushed voice, smiling lips against the boy\u2019s mouth, which was instead distorted by a grimace of pain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Look at that face,\u201d he whispered. \u201cYou are so, so pretty.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s blinked, frozen in place by what his eyes had seen but his mind didn\u2019t seem to be able to process yet, and by the sheer power of his reaction: by his absurd, unacceptable instinctive desire to stand, to walk up to Alexej and use that knife himself, to chase that boy away in the most definitive way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He almost did \u2014 he stood, suddenly, not even feeling in control of his body \u2014 but he stopped right away, for it was useless to do anything else. After whispering something against the boy\u2019s lips, like a lover, Alexej slit his throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The cutter\u2019s sharp blade slashed through the skin and flesh, leaving behind a thin crimson line that soon grew, expanded, until it turned into a cleft, a bloody chasm separating neck from inclined head. Blood spurted out, covered the snowy ground with a curved red spray that glittered under the moonlight. A groan left the boy\u2019s open mouth, and his eyes went wide and then void.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s expression, half hidden under fresh blood, was one of enthusiasm, maybe even bliss. He was handsome: terrible, scary, but so incredibly attractive that Mikl\u00f3s felt his insides stir at the mere sight of him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then his stomach dropped, because Alexej\u2019s gaze turned away from the warm corpse and those blue eyes, colder than ever, now settled on him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMiksa,\u201d Alexej greeted, amiably, the smile on his face white against the red of blood, like a curious negative of the snow around him. \u201cWhat are you doing here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej took one step forward, then another. His hand, the improvised weapon in it, his face, his hair were dripping with blood, warm blood leaving traces alongside his every step. The smell the wind blew into Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 face wasn\u2019t even completely unfamiliar; the sweetness and the dry coppery notes reminded Mikl\u00f3s of Alexej\u2019s good moods, but this time, the smell was overpowering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStay away,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s stuttered, voice as weak as his own knees.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej didn\u2019t listen, and soon he was right in front of Mikl\u00f3s, who found his eyes and tried not to leave them, using them as a guide in the unknown crimson that was Alexej\u2019s face in that moment. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou… killed him,\u201d he said, stupidly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej laughed, throwing his head back, his voice a lonely sound in that muffled night. \u201cI don\u2019t see anyone else,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s looked around, as if he wanted to check, but really just because he wanted to look away from that face \u2014 to pretend the blood didn\u2019t exist, its smell didn\u2019t sting his nostrils, nothing was really there but the warmth one step from him and that mellow voice that made his heart and groin both react as if anything else really didn\u2019t matter. That voice felt human, that warmth friendly, and he could talk to them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy? Why would you–?\u201d he tried asking, his eyes fixed on the point where the blood dripping from the knife was hollowing out a small crater in the snow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t you see?\u201d Alexej said, and judging from his tone Mikl\u00f3s was probably missing something absurdly obvious, something staring him right in the face. He shook his head, but kept it low, his gaze trained on the warm drips of blood that fell a palm\u2019s span from Alexej\u2019s shoe. \u201cCome closer, then,\u201d Alexej said, and his hand was grasping Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shoulder, sending a jolt through his every nerve. \u201cSee for yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s shook his head, but let Alexej lead him closer and closer to that body that had been alive not too long ago, that used to breathe and feel and cry and beg to stay alive, and now was but a broken doll on the icy ground \u2014 his throat slashed in two, his guts spilled out, bathed in his own blood, eyes staring at the faraway stars.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The vision made Mikl\u00f3s stop, staring for the longest moment, enraptured, at the gash opening the corpse’s neck and its pink skin, that still looked soft and alive. Then he had to retch: his throat convulsed, his stomach tossed about by his feelings and that vision, so much that it would have spilled its entire contents on the ground if it was full. He covered his mouth, looked away, trying to escape Alexej\u2019s grip, and when he couldn\u2019t, he whimpered something unintelligible in protest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHey,\u201d Alexej whispered, \u201cthere\u2019s nothing to worry about.\u201d He pulled Mikl\u00f3s close, turning him again to face the corpse. His hand had left a bloody mark on Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 sweatshirt, and with it that strong, overwhelming smell. Mikl\u00f3s felt his eyes prickle with tears, then fill with them until they spilled over, warping and deforming the image in front of his eyes, turning it into a hazy ball of red.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m not gonna hurt you<\/em>, Miksa,\u201d murmured Alexej in his ear, and his breath was warm, almost burning, his lips nearly touching Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 cheek.<\/p>\n\n\n\nMikl\u00f3s started crying, the sobs shaking his whole body despite him trying his best to make them stop. \u201cWhy?\u201d he sighed, hiccuped between tears. \u201cWhy did you kill him?\u201d he asked, and while weeping, a guilt and fear mixed in his stomach as he reminded himself that it was exactly what he had wanted to do, as well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej brushed his hand down Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 back, in a delicate, soothing gesture, then he pulled him close. \u201cDon\u2019t you think he looks a bit like you?\u201d he asked. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s saw him gesturing towards the body, but he closed his eyes and hid his face against Alexej\u2019s warm chest, ignoring the sticky wetness of the blood he was covered in, ignoring even the smell in favour of the warmth of his hug.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSee, Miksa, when they find that body,\u201d explained Alexej, \u201cthey\u2019ll probably think it\u2019s you. They\u2019ll need some time to investigate to either prove or disprove that hypothesis, and while they\u2019re focused on that, we\u2019ll get a chance to cross the border and leave Hungary.\u201d Alexej\u2019s voice vibrated in a low murmur. Mikl\u00f3s stayed hidden in the warm darkness of that chest, until Alexej forced him away, making their eyes meet. Browning blood now grown cold covered his face, his neck, sparing only his lips, as if he\u2019d licked them clean.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWas there no other way?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s murmured, his eyes going back and forth from Alexej\u2019s face to the dead body one step away from them. Fear still made his breath ragged and heavy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMiksa, trust me,\u201d Alexej said, his tone appeasing. He took Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 chin between his fingers and raised his face, to look him in the eyes. \u201cYou do trust me, don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A strange light flashed in his eyes. His breath smelled like blood, a mix of iron, sugar and earth dancing from his tongue to Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 mouth. It made him feel a jolt of alarm through every muscle of his body; no matter how much he wanted to kiss those soft, pink lips right then, he also wanted to run as far as possible from them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He\u2019d just seen Alexej kiss that boy and then stab him, and the weapon was still firm in that same bloody hand, as if ready to strike again. For one insane moment, Mikl\u00f3s even thought it might be worth it. But then he took a step back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ll\u2026 need some time to think,\u201d he murmured, shrugging Alexej\u2019s hand away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That left Alexej standing still, as if stunned. It was the first time Mikl\u00f3s had seen surprise on his handsome face, and once again he had to fight the impulse to kiss him, or to cry and beg.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej furrowed his brows. \u201cAre you leaving?\u201d he asked. His tone was flat, not suggesting any kind of emotion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m\u2026\u201d Mikl\u00f3s hesitated. \u201cI need to–\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s tried to find the words to explain, but they wouldn\u2019t come. He felt like there were no words to explain his fear and the rest of his feelings, and the way the mixed together and left him paralysed \u2014 he didn\u2019t want to leave, but he didn\u2019t want to die either, and it felt like it was one or the other. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Finally, something moved. But it wasn\u2019t Mikl\u00f3s; Alexej reached for him, took one of his wrists, opened his mouth to say something. The cutter reflected a distorted, red shade of the moonlight, still tight in Alexej\u2019s hand, and Mikl\u00f3s felt himself being shaken by a sudden jolt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His body moved before he could think, and he shook off Alexej\u2019s grip, again. \u201cLet go of me,\u201d he said, and even he was unsure of whether he was shouting or murmuring. Then he turned away and he ran, as fast as his legs would take him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Behind him, he felt Alexej laugh coldly, freezing the blood in his veins.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou can\u2019t leave me, Mikl\u00f3s,\u201d he said, yelled, at his back. \u201cYou can\u2019t hide from me, Mikl\u00f3s. I\u2019ll find you, always.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2014\u2014\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n
vi. I\u2019ll be your anchor<\/em><\/h2>\n\n\n\nMikl\u00f3s woke up staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Right as his eyes opened, his memories were a turmoil in his head, one he fruitlessly tried to make head or tail of. That was rendered far more difficult by the unbearable feeling of cold, embracing him closer than a lover would, chilling him to his very bones. His toes and fingers felt numb and stiff. He breathed slowly, shallowly, into the mountain of blankets he found himself wrapped in, but it didn\u2019t help much with raising the warmth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What definitely helped, instead, was the burning presence right next to him. He was held in a familiar hug, and at the same time one he had the feeling he should be very far away from. He recognised Alexej\u2019s scent all around him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He turned slowly, and even in the dimness, his clouded vision recognised Alexej resting beside him \u2014 eyes closed, cheeks flushed, face peaceful, and breathing slow and deep. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
When Mikl\u00f3s saw his face, he remembered it, in a sudden flash, covered in dripping crimson and smiling, and then cleaner, but with an upset expression in place of the blood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The memories surfaced briefly, in no specific order.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s was in Alexej\u2019s arms, shivering violently as the icy air seemed unable to make its way into his lungs, and his eyelids were heavy, so heavy, and his hands trying to reach for Alexej\u2019s face fumbled and then fell weakly. Then he was staring at a dead body, blood dressing it in freshly-drawn crimson drapes, the slash in its neck open like a second mutely screaming mouth, empty eyes looking far away from there. Alexej\u2019s face was the last image etched into them, and over it, in the dullness of those greyed-out pupils, might be the mystery of what came after. Then Mikl\u00f3s was running, and crying, and stumbling in the woods \u2014 going anywhere, as far away as he could \u2014 and it was raining, and his clothes were wet and he smelled like blood and fear. Then he was watching Alexej kiss a boy, or maybe himself, maybe it was Mikl\u00f3s he was kissing, pushed against that tree \u2014 but Alexej stabbed the boy and licked the blood blooming on his lips. Then, Mikl\u00f3s was sitting at the base of a tree, his wet clothes stiff and cold like pieces of ice, his senses numb and his sight becoming blurred, and a figure was approaching him, even as he tried to send it away, slurring his speech.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTold you I\u2019d find you,\u201d said the figure with Alexej\u2019s voice. \u201cIt\u2019s gonna be okay,\u201d it said again, and a pair of strong, warm hands picked Mikl\u00f3s up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Right now, Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 clothes weren\u2019t wet or cold anymore. He wore layer upon layer of soft, warm clothes that were too big for him, but smelled of detergent, as if recently washed. Alexej\u2019s arms pulled him closer, and the heat from his body surrounded Mikl\u00f3s, a contrast to the cold he felt inside his own chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The room around him was as dark as the night, and Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t keep his eyes open. Falling asleep again was as simple as blinking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Waking up was just as effortless. It felt as if his eyes had rested barely an instant, and yet the room was drowned in light. He was lying on his side, now, and the bedroom he saw, with its light wooden furniture and beige walls, seemed to emanate a certain warmth itself. On the bedside table was a portrait: a man and a woman hugged and smiled behind the glass of the frame. She had incredibly fair skin, and he had a thick black beard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The TV was on: he could tell by its flashing light, reflected in the glass of the framed picture, and the buzzing sound it made.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s blinked a couple of times, trying to bring the whole room into focus. In front of him, there was a closet with a dent in its door, and an old, ruined carpet on the floor between it and the bed. In the corner of the room, a couple of metres from the foot of the bed, was an armchair, the edges of the armrests almost completely worn out and a tartan blanket covering the seat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then his attention was stolen from the sounds of the TV.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat I want is to never leave your side,\u201d<\/em> a voice said, and Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t recognise it as his own right away. It was only a moment later, when he heard Alexej\u2019s voice \u2014 unmistakable, however distorted by the TV\u2019s speakers \u2014 that he realised he\u2019d heard those exact words before, coming out of his own mouth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cYou know, Miksa, I don\u2019t live what I would call an ideal life,\u201d<\/em> said the Alexej in the TV, and that moment, the memory playing on the screen seemed so incredibly far away, as if had happened years ago, instead of just weeks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t care,\u201d<\/em> his own voice said, shaking. \u201cI don\u2019t care about anyone but you.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nA buzz distorted the sound right afterwards, rewinding the scene back to the previous sentence, to Mikl\u00f3s whispering he never wanted to leave. His own heart repeated that sentence at a quickening pace, as he slowly turned towards the flashing screen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He caught a glimpse of it, Alexej and him sitting on a soft hotel bed, fingers intertwined between them, eyes staring into each other\u2019s. The scene was frozen, Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 own mouth half open, suspended in the act of saying something that filled his eyes with tears. They looked like a pair of lovers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAwake?\u201d whispered Alexej\u2019s voice from behind him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s jolted up weakly, as if surprised, even though he\u2019d felt Alexej\u2019s warm presence beside him since that night. He didn\u2019t seem to have moved at all, didn\u2019t seem to have left the bed. As long as that presence had been silent, Mikl\u00f3s had felt comforted by it, but now that he felt Alexej\u2019s gaze brush against him, he tensed with alarm \u2014 not fear, not exactly, but a wary sort of attention.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat are you, scared?\u201d Alexej giggled, and it didn\u2019t even sound malicious. He felt as warm as ever, maybe even more, when he pulled Mikl\u00f3s into his hold as if nothing had ever happened. The movement, which Mikl\u00f3s was too weak to resist, brought them face to face on the soft bed, their noses almost touching.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s looked away, shaking his head. A shiver ran down his back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAre you surprised that I\u2019d save your life? After everything I did for you?\u201d pressed Alexej, and maybe there was some urgency in his voice, but it was buried as carefully as Mikl\u00f3s had been tucked under that mountain of blankets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s gathered the words, breathed as deeply as he could, but his voice came out as weak as a murmur, slurred and confused. \u201cI\u2019m\u2026 not–not scared.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStop lying.\u201d Alexej spoke softly, and his warm hand caressed Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 face. Even the roughness of his palm felt gentle. \u201cWe can be completely honest with each other now, can\u2019t we?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t feel that he was lying. He had been scared, terrified of Alexej, of the fact he\u2019d murdered a person, of the way he\u2019d made it look casual and easy, of the absolute joy in his eyes as he did. He had been scared, but now, as Alexej held him so close and their breaths mingled together, he wished he had enough strength in his arms to lift one and reciprocate Alexej\u2019s caress. He had been scared, but it was like a nightmare, and now he\u2019d woken up and everything was like before, and he wasn\u2019t ready to give up all that because of a single night of fear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe Alexej had killed someone \u2014 Mikl\u00f3s was almost sure that what he remembered was true and not just a dream \u2014 but he\u2019d saved Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 life. Evelin had been wrong: Alexej truly didn\u2019t mean to hurt him, after all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t feel that he was lying, and he still felt he could be honest with Alexej, about almost everything. Everything except the growing grip in his guts that wanted their lips to touch and collide and taste each other.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Therefore, he nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej smirked, and his hand was in Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hair \u2014 a matted and tangled bundle on the pillow, in which Alexej\u2019s fingers caught knots and pulled at them. \u201cImagine that,\u201d Alexej sighed. \u201cYou can even stop lying to me when you say you trust me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He said that half-aloud, as if murmuring it in the direction of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hair. His tone was firmer, with sharp edges stretching its surface, almost breaching it, and in the end his lips curved in a stiff smile as he looked right through Mikl\u00f3s, or maybe into him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI wasn\u2019t–\u201d Mikl\u00f3s coughed out, before the air in his lungs ran out and he choked on his own words as he breathed in again, shallowly and desperately. \u201cI wasn\u2019t lying!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s blue eyes were fierce and magnetic as they\u2019d never been before, and they didn\u2019t soften at all. His lips thinned in a straight line. \u201cThen why, Miksa,\u201d Alexej said, speaking slowly, spelling out each word, \u201cdid you follow me when I told you to stay put?\u201d His voice progressively hardened, as if those edges were finally piercing through the pretence of his kindness, until the last words he uttered sounded almost like a growl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was lonely\u2026\u201d Mikl\u00f3s breathed, eyes wide and suddenly prickling with tears. He felt so weak, and his mind didn\u2019t seem capable of working properly, and the fervour in Alexej\u2019s voice almost made him sick. \u201cI wanted to get,\u201d he tried again, the wind in his lungs finishing too soon, eating the last of his words, \u201ca gift for you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh, the gift, yes.\u201d Alexej sighed, rolled his eyes, but once he looked in Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 direction again he didn\u2019t seem as angry. \u201cYou mentioned it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a moment of silence, and Alexej took one of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hands \u2014 found it in the sea of blankets somewhere \u2014 and pulled it close. Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t feel his fingers: they\u2019d turned pale and felt stiff, hard to bend. When Alexej saw him trying to move them, he pressed them between his own hands, nullifying his efforts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cActually, you told me a lot of things while I was trying to prevent you from freezing to death, you know, Miksa?\u201d Alexej smiled like a wolf baring his fangs. Mikl\u00f3s felt a lot like prey, himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For a moment, he said nothing, returning Alexej\u2019s stare as he tried to recall something, anything, that would help him understand what Alexej was talking about.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej draw Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hand closer, rested his cheek on it. \u201cI wish you had been more honest with me from the start,\u201d he whispered, as his eyelids fluttered closed. \u201cI wish that you didn\u2019t need to be delirious from fever for that to happen.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s was suddenly hit by a terrible feeling, like something wrapping cold tentacles around his chest and throat. \u201cWhat- what did I tell you?\u201d he stuttered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej opened his eyes again, his incredibly warm cheek still brushing against Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 fingers, which were, in all likelihood, superficially frostbitten. He smiled, amusement filling the dimples at the side of his lips. \u201cThe truth,\u201d he replied, cryptically.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then he let go of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hand, not before having neatly put it back under the blankets. \u201cYou were much more grateful,\u201d he commented, \u201cand pliant. Spontaneous, I\u2019d say.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s tried to hold Alexej\u2019s gaze, despite the eyebrows drawn in a strict line making him feel uneasy. He kept digging into his own brain, trying to remember exactly what he\u2019d said. However, it felt as if he was digging into nothing but mist, and no matter how much fog he pushed away, more came to take its place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat did I say?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s repeated, as his stomach dropped to the ground. He didn\u2019t even try to hide the apprehension, the dread with which his voice dripped, and which was surely obvious on his face, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat, are you scared of what you might have confessed to?\u201d Alexej laughed heartily. Mikl\u00f3s wasn\u2019t sure if he was mocking that question or he was simply amused. Either way, his stomach contracted unpleasantly. \u201cAre you worried I might know one of your dark, dark<\/em> secrets?\u201d whispered Alexej, and that was mocking, all right.<\/p>\n\n\n\nMaybe Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t have dark secrets, and maybe from Alexej\u2019s point of view his worry about having possibly said something embarrassing, something awkward, seemed entirely trivial \u2014 but there were thoughts that Mikl\u00f3s had, that he\u2019d always much preferred keeping inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Like when he\u2019d kept staring at Boris\u2019 lips, back in school, or at the way his classmates undressed and changed after getting all dirty playing in the fields. Like the way he\u2019d kept staring at Alexej, everything about him, the whole time, since they\u2019d first met. Mikl\u00f3s had learned to keep it all under wraps, conceal it from the world as much as he concealed it from himself. But after what had happened the night before, there was no way to know what had come out of his mouth, unfiltered, if he was as delirious as Alexej said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The thought sent him into something that resembled a state of panic, except it was so unfocused, confused, that it simply felt as if his mind was bouncing in cloudy mists, as his eyes brimmed with tears and he felt like retching.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAlexej\u2026\u201d he murmured, begging for an answer, \u201cplease\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej smiled in that comforting way of his \u2014 cheeks filling, forehead flat \u2014 and shushed him with a gesture of his hands. His left thumb wiped away a tear that had spilled from Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 eye. \u201cMiksa, you\u2019re still weak,\u201d he murmured. He stood up, leaving the warm haven of the bed. Mikl\u00f3s felt the cold air rushing under the covers before they fell back down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej leaned down on him and brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes. \u201cYou need rest, my little star,\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 heart throbbed violently in his throat, and he almost forgot everything, even the words that were already leaving his lips, asking Alexej once again to tell him something, anything, about what had happened after he\u2019d run away. But then Alexej said that, and all the words died, all the words were lost. Mikl\u00f3s felt as if he could throw up his own beating heart any moment now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He didn\u2019t get the chance to do that, either, because Alexej\u2019s lips brushed delicately against his own. They burned like fire and were softer than all the blankets in the world, and tasted as sweet as Alexej smelled, if not more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTry to relax,\u201d Alexej whispered a couple of seconds later, seconds that lasted much longer than they should have.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The contact left Mikl\u00f3s starved, wanting nothing but to repeat the kiss again, and again, and again. He was too weak, however, to even raise his head, which felt heavier than his whole body. He lay still, pressed his lips together, licked them, as if checking if he had just imagined it. Maybe he was still feverish and delirious.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s going to be okay, Miksa,\u201d said Alexej, with a fond smile as he caressed Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 cheek. \u201cI\u2019m going to take care of you. Okay?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The end of that last contact \u2014 Alexej\u2019s fingertips on the flushed skin of his face \u2014 threatened to make it all feel more surreal, to move it all further away from reality. Mikl\u00f3s nodded anyway, not really thinking about it, his muscles moving out of some sort of habit more than out of will. The freckles on Alexej\u2019s face, the ones near his lips, which Mikl\u00f3s had counted once, were more than before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s thought Alexej would get up now, and leave, go who-knew-where. Instead, his weight on the mattress right next to Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t budge, didn\u2019t move even slightly, didn\u2019t shift in place at all. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
One of Alexej\u2019s arms touched Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 neck, as if feeling for his pulse \u2014 then, soon after, the other one. Alexej\u2019s eyes were fixed on his own hands, focused and very hard to read, as if too many different thoughts were passing behind them. His fingers followed the shape of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 neck, circled it, his light touch slowly getting heavier. The thumbs were pushing against his windpipe when Alexej retracted his hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou feel warmer now,\u201d he murmured, but he was looking somewhere else, and he spoke so faintly, the words didn\u2019t seem to ever have been aimed at Mikl\u00f3s at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then, Alexej seemed to regain his focus. He blinked a couple of times, and took a long, deep breath. He folded his own hands in his lap.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJust rest, okay?\u201d he said, louder now, glancing at Mikl\u00f3s briefly. \u201cI\u2019ll draw a warm bath for you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The bath Alexej had drawn for him felt more than warm. It felt as if it was scorching his whole body, burning the tips of his toes and boiling his legs; the whole room was warm, incredibly so, so much that the air felt heavy and hard to breathe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s endured it, however, because he knew it would help with his reddened, stiff fingers and because \u2014 he realised as Alexej carried him to the bathroom, and delicately lowered him into the tub \u2014 despite everything, he trusted Alexej. He would always trust him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Weak as he was, Mikl\u00f3s endured the embarrassment. That tame, ridiculous thing in the back of his mind, something that barely seemed to matter after all, and yet still burned his cheeks with blood stolen from his stinging fingertips. His heart beat furiously in his ribcage as if it was about to burst the whole time, and Mikl\u00f3s wasn\u2019t sure if it was the heat getting his blood circulation going again, awakening his heart from a frozen sleep, or if it was simply the feeling of Alexej\u2019s hands all over his naked body.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s movements were firm, detached, practical. They didn\u2019t feel like something Mikl\u00f3s should be embarrassed about, they didn\u2019t feel like the actions of someone who\u2019d called him \u2018my little star\u2019 only minutes before, like the actions of someone who\u2019d kissed<\/em> him. There was only an affectionate gentleness at the edges of Alexej\u2019s light touches, and yet it was enough for Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 whole body to burn with desire, and for him to thank his luck he was feeling sick enough that his lust wouldn\u2019t show.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cYou could have lost your fingers, you know?\u201d murmured Alexej, holding Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 pale hands in his own, keeping them underwater, caressing them. His gaze was pointed on what he was doing, on the delicate, attentive movements of his hands, and never rose to meet Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 eyes. He was handsome with his face flushed by the vapour\u2019s heat, breathing through his mouth, lips ajar. He didn\u2019t brush his hair away when it fell across his creased brow, partially hiding it from sight, as if to conceal the focused expression on his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And yet, in a way, that expression seemed less real than the one he\u2019d had when he\u2019d stabbed that boy, back in the woods. In that moment, Alexej had looked more genuine than he ever did before \u2014 and more handsome, too. Mikl\u00f3s had been scared of him, sure, but now that he was recalling those memories in the safety of his warm bath, he realised just how attracted he was to that side of Alexej, how he wished he could see it again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo you do that often?\u201d he murmured, lowering his eyes to their joined hands. \u201cKilling people, I mean.\u201d His own fingers were still pale and stiff, but Alexej\u2019s were barely even flushed \u2014 which made him realise that maybe the bath\u2019s temperature wasn\u2019t as hot as it felt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A long silence followed Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 question.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s started getting accustomed to the warmth. He sat there, embraced by that silence, until his lungs finally breathed in and out easily, and his fingers and toes had regained their sensation and a more lively colour, even though they were mottled with redder spots amid paler ones. Now he could feel, as well as see, Alexej still gently holding his hands. He only looked away from them when their flush grew more uniform.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSometimes,\u201d Alexej replied, so much later that Mikl\u00f3s had almost forgotten the question. \u201cDoes it scare you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Something flashed in the back of his eyes,as if a glint of red had just passed through them. Even though his touch was still gentle, the way his eyebrows were crooked now, the way his eyes thinned attentively, it all reminded Mikl\u00f3s of that other night. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He wondered if the way he\u2019d touched that boy had been just as kind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cA bit,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s admitted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej smiled \u2014 or rather, his lips curved, baring teeth and a hint of tongue before he licked them closed. Then he grabbed a piece of soap and started scrubbing Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 back with it. \u201cI bet you\u2019re curious about how it feels,\u201d Alexej said, half-aloud.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He cleaned Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 whole dirt- and mud-covered body. He soaped his chest, his arms, his armpits, made him stand up to clean his stomach, his lower back, his legs even. Mikl\u00f3s covered his groin with his hands, embarrassed, but Alexej simply moved them out of the way and cleaned him there, too. Mikl\u00f3s wanted to protest, but was too busy trying to keep his balance, fighting against shaking legs and a sense of dizziness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej let him slide down in the water again, guiding his movements, supporting him by offering him his shoulder. In the process, Alexej got his shirt completely drenched in soapy water, but he didn\u2019t seem to notice or care.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhen you kill someone,\u201d Alexej continued, as he squeezed some shampoo into Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 tangled, soiled hair and started massaging his scalp, \u201cit feels like you\u2019re the most powerful being in the universe.\u201d His voice vibrated with raw enthusiasm, yet emanated a sense of peace. \u201cIt feels like you\u2019re in control and no one can ever hurt you.\u201d He tucked a lock of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 wet hair behind his ear. \u201cIt feels like you\u2019re free. It\u2019s liberating, like letting out all the pressure built up inside you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej looked Mikl\u00f3s straight in the eyes, and caressed his face, gingerly. His pupils were dilated, and the warmth of his words rested on the bottom of them, squirming as if fighting against being extinguished. His hand traced the edge of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 jaw, then brushed against his lips; the backs of his fingers grazed Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 cheekbones, as the hint of a smile passed across his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then Alexej put a hand on top of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 head and pushed him underwater.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For a moment, Mikl\u00f3s was sure Alexej was trying to kill him \u2014 and, weak as he was, he was also aware that he couldn\u2019t do anything to stop him, to save himself. For a split second, he even thought he wouldn\u2019t have tried to stop Alexej, anyway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But once his head was submerged, Alexej let go of him, allowed him to resurface \u2014 cough out water and breathe in air \u2014 and simply went back to rubbing dirt away from his hair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s face was relaxed, unperturbed, as if nothing consequential had happened, as if both his actions and his words had been nothing but commonplace. They weren\u2019t, because he wasn\u2019t commonplace at all, and Mikl\u00f3s hoped that, by being around him, he\u2019d become less average himself, if only by effect of Alexej\u2019s closeness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t you feel guilty?\u201d he asked, even though he could guess that the answer would be a negative.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s eyelashes fluttered closed and then open with a sigh, as he stopped for a moment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhen you kill someone, you\u2019re like their god,\u201d he explained, meeting Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 eyes. \u201cThey fear you, they love you, and they respect you. Would a god feel guilt?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s shook his head, and he thought that he wouldn\u2019t need the threat of death to kneel before Alexej and adore him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For four days, Alexej bandaged Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 blistered fingers and toes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After they finally warmed up, they started hurting terribly, so much that Mikl\u00f3s woke in the middle of the night, crying in pain. He tried to keep quiet, but Alexej always woke up, and he never once offered a protest. Mostly, he would wake up because of the same loud gasp that had woken Mikl\u00f3s himself, no matter how he bit back his whimpers. His sleep-dimmed eyes would look lazily in Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 direction, then he\u2019d sit up with a yawn and get him pills and a glass of water.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The meds always helped. They made him sleepy, and alleviated the pain enough that Mikl\u00f3s could eat, or walk to the bathroom on his own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s expected Alexej to be annoyed, to hate being forced to stay there, almost in captivity. And despite how cryptic Alexej could be at times, this once \u2014 this once<\/em> he looked at peace, maybe even gleeful.<\/p>\n\n\n\nUntil the fever had passed, until their supply of painkillers had almost run out, until the smell of something rotting despite the deadly cold had reached even the bedroom on the first floor, until Mikl\u00f3s could walk somewhat properly again, they stayed in that house \u2014 in that bedroom, specifically. They stayed in bed, watched movies on TV, and ate ready-cooked meals on trays balanced on their legs. Alexej told him about a book he\u2019d found in the house \u2014 a story of humanity and monsters, one where the humans were revealed to be the more appalling and evil. Mikl\u00f3s only half-listened to Alexej read it, his mind too numb and his heart only truly interested in the sound of Alexej\u2019s voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But when, afterwards, Alexej commented on it, when he said that monsters were but extensions of human desire, escaped tendrils of what truly lay beneath all humans, Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t help but listen, wide-eyed and awake. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEveryone has \u2018monstrous\u2019 instincts,\u201d Alexej explained. \u201cEverything that deviates from what\u2019s commonly accepted is shunned and hidden,\u201d he said, as if addressing a public, with the book open in front of him on his legs. And maybe one person wasn\u2019t much of an audience, but what Alexej said hit Mikl\u00f3s very close to home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cInstead of recognising the superior, divine nature of what strays from the designated path, what people do is refuse it and push it away,\u201d Alexej continued, and Mikl\u00f3s found himself on the brink of nodding enthusiastically. It was as if he\u2019d always thought the same thing, deep inside him, under that feeling of shame and self-loathing. Hearing it said by Alexej of all people only made Mikl\u00f3s feel even more convinced, and much less alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe only difference between people who are hated and deemed scary, and everyone else, is that we are actually honest.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s was left wondering, afterwards, if that \u2018we\u2019 included him, too, or was just there because Alexej felt as if he was speaking on behalf of a whole category of people.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He was still wondering that four days later, when they finally left that house, walking through the living room where two bodies lay on the floor \u2014 face down, bloating, insects crawling all over them, fluids seeping out of ruptures in the skin of what used to be people. Mikl\u00f3s thought there was something deeply genuine, authentic, about the way dead bodies looked if you managed to look at them for long enough without vomiting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As he walked \u2014 bandaged feet within too-large shoes \u2014 past those two, Mikl\u00f3s thought that dead bodies were scary, in a way. Alexej had said, at some point, that they forced people to face their mortality. Mikl\u00f3s looked at them and he felt that fear, but it was much less intense than what he\u2019d felt only days before, staring at the body of a boy like him. Maybe it was because these were the bodies of two old people, or maybe fear was just a consequence of honesty, which arose only when one wasn\u2019t prepared for it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej seemed indifferent to dead bodies, despite how much he seemed to like creating them. Mikl\u00f3s doubted that he was unaware of his own mortality, or that he was ready to surrender to it anytime. On the contrary, he seemed prepared for it, ready to stare Death right in the eyes and tell her no.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the car, with the cassette Mikl\u00f3s had bought that day pushed into the radio of the old sedan the couple kept in the garage, Mikl\u00f3s wondered if that determination, that spirit Alexej had, was something you were simply born with \u2014 a lottery of the genes, much like beauty \u2014 or something life shaped into you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was much on his mind, while piano music filled a silence that stretched awkwardly between him and Alexej. His thoughts tickled with ideas of things he could have said that were never actually shaped by his tongue and lips, maybe because a kiss was the one thing he really wanted to exchange with Alexej by then.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They hadn\u2019t kissed any more \u2014 or rather, Alexej hadn\u2019t taken the initiative, after that one time, that one touch of lips. Mikl\u00f3s felt as if he\u2019d dreamed it, conjured up a vision out of thin air while his fever ran high. They hadn\u2019t kissed any more, and Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t keep his mind from coming back to that one fantasy, but still he did nothing to make it a reality, except stealing glances at Alexej every time he got the chance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The silence followed them along the road that unfolded under the wheels of the car. Mikl\u00f3s realised he had no idea where they were, nor where they were going. Alexej didn\u2019t even seem to be following a map.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He was about to ask a question related to that, when the silence was interrupted by Alexej instead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou can go your own way, you know that?\u201d Alexej said, gaze focused on the road. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to stay with me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s was completely puzzled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The fact that they could go separate ways had, admittedly, crossed his mind \u2014 but mostly with the implication that Alexej would be the one leaving. The rare times he thought about the opposite, it was in that hypothetical manner of thinking, a what-if he always knew he\u2019d never see happen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBut I want to,\u201d he said, simply.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej glanced at him for a moment, his narrowed eyes quickly returning to the gravel road. \u201cThen why are you scared?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 mouth opened and closed, fruitlessly. No sound left it, for barely a coherent thought had formed in his mind, besides that loud voice which cried about how he didn\u2019t ever want to leave. Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t really understand the question. He wasn\u2019t scared of Alexej, not as much as he was scared of losing him. He wondered what his expression looked like, if he\u2019d changed his attitude, if his silent thinking had been interpreted by Alexej as a quiet terror.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf I wanted to kill you, Miksa,\u201d continued Alexej, unprompted, when Mikl\u00f3s hesitated to offer an answer, \u201cyou\u2019d be long dead.\u201d His voice was sharp and hard, and Mikl\u00f3s believed every word. He\u2019d been aware of it for longer than he cared to admit, and he\u2019d started to consider it a reason to be grateful to Alexej, after all \u2014 the fact that Alexej didn\u2019t want him dead, and moreover that he wanted him alive<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cI wouldn\u2019t even have to do it myself,\u201d Alexej smirked without looking at him, and his focused gaze seemed strikingly far away. \u201cI could have left you to be found by the police and let your father do the hard work. I could have let you freeze.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s turned his eyes towards the road too. For once it wasn\u2019t woods that they were driving through, but open fields, which looked somewhat empty, with the view of the sky clear and unimpeded in the darkening night. The only house in sight was the faint light they\u2019d already left behind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was cold, and Mikl\u00f3s felt colder at the mention of his father. He massaged his bandaged hand, used the bite from the healing blisters underneath to ground himself, to remember he was safe there, that he felt safer with Alexej than he\u2019d ever felt at home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But he felt angry, too, that Alexej wanted to send him away, that he said those mean things as if hoping to scare Mikl\u00f3s off. He felt angry enough to raise his voice, to respond in kind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen why didn\u2019t you?\u201d he said. \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you kill me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He watched Alexej slow down the car, parking on the side of the road, by a snowy, empty field that had probably been planted in spring. \u201cI\u2019m not sure,\u201d Alexej said, returning Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 gaze. His blue eyes stared firmly, and yet they were much less hard than Mikl\u00f3s would have guessed them to be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s would never leave, not ever, not unless Alexej clearly asked him to \u2014 not even in the face of that answer. He didn\u2019t really care what the consequences were for staying, and it was not just because he didn\u2019t have anyone else but Alexej: it was because he\u2019d choose<\/em> to have no one but Alexej, anyway. And maybe the question Mikl\u00f3s asked next wasn\u2019t the best way to prove that, but it was the question that Alexej\u2019s eyes seemed to beg him to ask.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cWould you really let me leave?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s said, and as soon as the words left his lips, he prayed the answer would be no.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s lips opened in an unhappy laugh. \u201cIf you want to,\u201d he said, the echo of his chuckle still around his mouth. \u201cWhy wouldn’t I?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For the first time since they\u2019d met, Mikl\u00f3s thought that Alexej looked genuinely sad. His lips drew a thin, straight line through his face. His eyes, wider than usual, returned what Mikl\u00f3s couldn\u2019t help but think of as a bitter look. He kept his hands on the wheel, despite having stopped the car for a while now. Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hand reached for him, but was stopped in its track by Alexej\u2019s words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThis is very simple, Mikl\u00f3s,\u201d Alexej said, as he turned away. \u201cIf you have to look at me like that, like I\u2019m going to murder you any second, get out.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s shook his head, protested even before the feeling of disappointment had sent his guts plummeting and pushed him off balance. But Alexej didn\u2019t heed his words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLeave,\u201d he simply repeated, his voice like a growl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s felt the tears prickling his eyes. He got out of the car, scrambling for something to say but coming up empty-handed, even as he closed the car\u2019s door. He stood, wide-eyed, staring at the inside of the sedan, light brown leather beyond the window\u2019s glass. There must have been something he was missing, something he didn\u2019t understand; there must have been something that explained what Alexej was asking, all of a sudden; there must have been something that would let it all make sense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He heard the other car door closing with a thump, and as soon as his muscles responded, he raised his gaze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His own backpack hit him in the chest \u2014 and Alexej, who had thrown it, looked at him from the other side of the car, leaning against it, arms on its roof.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ll go my way and you\u2019ll go yours,\u201d he said, calmly. Mikl\u00f3s was sure he must have been waiting for something, a reaction maybe, but he was frozen in place and a knot in his throat blocked his airway to the point he felt like it was choking him. \u201cIt\u2019ll be as if we never met,\u201d continued Alexej, and the lump almost burst into tears. \u201cYou can go back to your family, keep wandering, stay here, kill yourself, I don\u2019t care.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s felt the tears wet his face in the exact same moment as a word finally left his lips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One single word.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAle\u0161,\u201d he whimpered, between tears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGo.\u201d Alexej gestured with one hand, pointing somewhere ahead of them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cPlease, Ale\u0161,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s cried, sniffled, unashamedly let out all that swollen pain. He circled the car, leaving his backpack behind, until he was next to Alexej, close enough to touch him. He took one of Alexej\u2019s hands into his own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Aren\u2019t you scared of me?\u201d Alexej scoffed, with a certain urge running underneath. \u201cGo away.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s realised that, despite how much he loved Alexej \u2014 because he loved him, recklessly, completely, desperately, more intensely than in one of those romantic movies Maya liked \u2014 there was at least one thing he couldn\u2019t allow Alexej to do, and it was to send him away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t you care about me?\u201d he asked, raising his gaze and staring at Alexej through the tears he was trying futilely to stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI told you I don\u2019t,\u201d Alexej replied, and yet \u2014 and yet Mikl\u00f3s could swear he hadn\u2019t imagined the slight, almost imperceptible hesitation in his voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen why,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s cried again, his head throbbing as if it wanted to explode, \u201cwhy would you protect me?\u201d He pulled Alexej\u2019s hand, trying to bring him closer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej did not move. \u201cMaybe I took pity on you,\u201d he said, and where Mikl\u00f3s expected a confident, mocking smile, what he got was a flat expression. Then Alexej bit his lips, and Mikl\u00f3s just thought about how soft they looked, how he could simply not accept that he would never get to kiss them again, how he regretted all the chances he\u2019d had but never taken.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy did you kiss me?\u201d he finally spouted, vomited with the last bit of desperation he had in him, emptying himself of words and tears. When he was done, and Alexej still stared at him with that incomprehensible expression that softened his eyes but hardened the rest of his face, jaws stiff under a distressed gaze, Mikl\u00f3s felt nothing but the pain: In his fingers, gripping Alexej\u2019s hand far too firmly for the condition they were in, bandages on the verge of coming undone; in his toes, curled with the tension in his muscles, stinging with reopened wounds; in his head, throbbing along with his overexcited heart; in his every muscle, feeling as if it was too tired to keep going.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej pushed Mikl\u00f3s down on the hood of the car, his expression finally morphing in reaction. He kept Mikl\u00f3s down by gripping the scruff of his neck, and leaned down against him. When he spoke, he showed his teeth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“This is a dangerous road you’re taking, Miksa,” he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s felt his own tears already drying on his face — or, rather, freezing on it. The smile that twisted his lips, under them, didn\u2019t hold a trace of happiness, but instead curled around a bitter taste of victory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t care, and neither do you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej was silent for a moment \u2014 the idea that it was out of surprise made Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 chest swell with pride, fill with something different from that empty pain. It shifted everything inside him, and before he knew it, Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hands were cupping Alexej\u2019s face. He closed his eyes, and they were kissing \u2014 or rather, Mikl\u00f3s was kissing Alexej, that sweet, sweet mouth of his.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s lips were a bit chapped and the kiss was salty with Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 own tears, but it was their<\/em> kiss \u2014 the second one \u2014 and it couldn\u2019t have been better. It made Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 body react even more than before: his heart raced, his skin prickled, his hands shook, his stomach felt as if it had just been flipped upside-down; the pain in his fingers and toes, the one in his head, it all became nothing but background noise as Alexej deepened the kiss.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTheir breaths and saliva mingled, mixed, became one thing, a taste that sent violent shivers down Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 back. Alexej\u2019s grip on the scruff of his neck strengthened, so much it threatened to choke him, and Alexej\u2019s other hand slid up Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 leg, to his waist, slipping under his clothes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When Alexej broke the kiss, Mikl\u00f3s licked his lips one last time, mourning the lost contact even through his breathlessness. \u201cI\u2019m not leaving, ever,\u201d he said, or tried despite his unsuccessful attempts at catching his breath. And yet this one time, his voice seemed firm, and he felt just as confident when he met Alexej\u2019s eyes again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He saw himself reflected in Alexej\u2019s dilated pupils for a fraction of a moment. Then, Alexej took his face into one hand, fingers pressing into his cheeks until he\u2019d forced Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 mouth open. He smirked. \u201cI won\u2019t let you,\u201d Alexej said, and then his lips were kissing, licking, but mostly biting their way down Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 neck. Alexej\u2019s bites seemed to want to draw blood each time, stopped right after they started to hurt, drawing moans out of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 mouth that echoed in the quiet of the night.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej pushed him further on the car\u2019s hood until Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 shoes were no longer touching the gravel road underneath them, his hand digging its own imprint into Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 cheeks as Alexej licked the pain away from a bite on his shoulder. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf you are going to stay, you can\u2019t change your mind, Miksa,\u201d Alexej said, as he loosened his hold on Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 face and slid both hands under his clothes \u2014 lifting his sweatshirt and leaving his spine pressed against the freezing hood of the car. Mikl\u00f3s shivered, not just from the cold, but from the hands caressing his chest, and from the words whispered a breath away from his lips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s could not put together enough words to say what he communicated simply by reaching down to open Alexej\u2019s jeans. He could feel his own erection swell inside his pants, desperately throbbing with a desire that Mikl\u00f3s felt as if he\u2019d kept inside for far too long, and he could feel Alexej\u2019s own arousal stir, brush against his leg when their bodies touched.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI won\u2019t-\u201d he whispered, before his sentence was cut short by Alexej, who was quickly unbuttoning both their pants, letting their erections free. Mikl\u00f3s threw his head back, shut his eyes even though he saw light flashing on his eyelids at each thump of his fast-beating heart. \u201cI won\u2019t change my mind,\u201d he finished, before he opened his eyes again, to Alexej\u2019s hip thrust that made their cocks brush against each other, the simple contact sending unbelievable waves of pleasure up his arched back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej lowered his head, hands keeping Mikl\u00f3s in place as he kissed his belly, put his face into it as if he wanted to learn its smell. Then Alexej bit the soft skin there, on the left side of his bellybutton \u2014 so hard that, for a moment, it seemed as if he wanted to tear the flesh away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the blink of an eye they were face to face again, and then kissing, and Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t have a chance to look, but he could tell the bite had drawn blood \u2014 he knew from the taste in Alexej\u2019s mouth and the sore pain where he had just bitten. The thought made his breath hitch in his throat and made his erection twitch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej was holding both their cocks together. Mikl\u00f3s felt the rough skin of his palm, a bit cold, but delicate. When Alexej started thrusting, stroking them together, against each other, he couldn\u2019t help but let out a strangled noise \u2014 one that made Alexej snicker, face in the hollow of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej stopped again after too few thrusts \u2014 Mikl\u00f3s opened his eyes to the starry sky, and took a moment to regain enough focus to lower his gaze and look at Alexej. \u201cIf you stay, Mikl\u00f3s, it\u2019s forever. One way or the other,\u201d Alexej said, and then he licked his lips, which were much softer now, and all swollen and pink, and then he kissed Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 neck, sucked at it until Mikl\u00f3s cried out his name.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He was rolling his hips again, then, as Mikl\u00f3s wrapped his legs around his back to pull him close, closer, to get more friction, and arched his back when that was not enough. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo you understand what I mean?\u201d Alexej asked, and for a long moment Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t know what he was referring to \u2014 nor did he care, because he felt as if he was melting, and even the cold metal surface under his back didn\u2019t make him shiver as much as every single point of skin that had been touched by Alexej. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s had his arms wrapped around Alexej\u2019s shoulders, and Alexej\u2019s lips were right next to his ear, nibbling at it as if he had no urgency, no building desperation in the back of his loins. And yet Mikl\u00f3s felt as if he was combusting, as he breathlessly rocked his hips against Alexej\u2019s and moaned something that didn\u2019t really make sense, but sounded a lot like a prayer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes,\u201d he said then, breathed, groaned, yelled maybe \u2014 the thought that someone could pass, that someone could hear them and see them, only vaguely scratched the surface of his mind \u2014 and he moaned louder, and he thought, let them see<\/em>. \u201cYes, I understand,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s said, again. \u201cI want you,\u201d he continued, and Alexej\u2019s hand was moving along with their bodies, and the pressure in his groin was rising and it felt as if his whole body, down to the tips of his toes, was sizzling. His head felt hazy, his thoughts barely there, on the edge of his consciousness, ready to drift away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cI want to be all yours,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s said again, his voice half-stolen by a moan when Alexej drove his teeth into the soft muscle between his neck and shoulder, and bit hard, again. Mikl\u00f3s ran his fingers through Alexej\u2019s soft hair and grabbed a lock or two, pushing Alexej\u2019s head and his mouth closer still.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He felt Alexej slightly raise his head, before he felt Alexej\u2019s wet lips and his teeth nipping at his ear. \u201cYou already are,\u201d Alexej whispered, between bites. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
For a moment, Mikl\u00f3s heard nothing but the sound of blood buzzing in his ears; he felt their hips rutting together, his own thrusting up at a desperate, irregular rhythm, feet finding leverage on the front of the car, sliding down and trying again; he was aware of Alexej\u2019s hands gripping his sides, his fingers sinking into them as if he wanted to reshape them, and of his own lips opening, his vocal cords vibrating in a moan he never truly heard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then, that fire erupted, and Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 mind went blank, his body limp, and it he felt like he was dissolving into the pleasure of his orgasm. He felt lost, inside himself and inside Alexej\u2019s arms \u2014 and he didn\u2019t care about the stickiness when he weakly pulled Alexej closer in what vaguely resembled a hug.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When Mikl\u00f3s reopened his eyes, he found Alexej staring at him. His face was relaxed \u2014 eyebrows stretched in soft arches, the slight curve of his smile hinted at the edge of his mouth, his eyelids blinking lazily over his dilated pupils \u2014 and his hands caressed Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 face, travelled down his neck, lingering here and there where Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 skin felt sensitive and itchy. Mikl\u00f3s felt, this time, there was no mystery beyond the blue of his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej let go of him, broke the contact between them and stood, trapping his unquenched arousal back in his pants.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s slid down, to stand as well. His knees almost buckled under his weight, his toes searing with pain upon impact with the ground, but still he stopped Alexej\u2019s motion by gripping his wrist. The bandage on Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 fingers had partially come off, and the cold winter air bit the healing wounds underneath, but he didn\u2019t care. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWait,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s said, as if to explain. Then he felt his face flush when he realised he\u2019d have to actually explain. He looked up, and Alexej returned him a puzzled gaze. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLet me please you,\u201d he said, feeling his ears burn with embarrassment and his heart pump loudly, happily<\/em>, in his chest. Then, he knelt in front of Alexej \u2014 unbothered by the pebbles and small rocks digging into his skin through the fabric of his trousers.<\/p>\n\n\n\nHis breath was still heavy from his own climax, and he tried to slow it down as he pulled Alexej\u2019s erection back out of his underwear. His fingers ached and stung, but he held the length still; its head was purple and swollen, and it throbbed slightly in his grip. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s hesitated \u2014 not really sure of what to do, despite talking so big \u2014 and he looked up at Alexej. Even from that angle, he was so handsome, and the lewd smile widening on his lips made Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 heart miss a beat, and swell with pride.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s gathered his spirit, and simply kissed the head of Alexej\u2019s cock, wet lips first, then a hint of tongue. It tasted slightly salty, and smelled strong, almost overwhelming. Mikl\u00f3s felt his mind go hazy again, the arousal rekindling in his loins, and let the head pass his lips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s hand brushed through his hair, tightly gripping the locks at the back of his head. He moaned, quietly, and yet the sound went straight to Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 groin, to his already half-hard erection.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat a good boy you are,\u201d murmured Alexej, softly, as he pushed Mikl\u00f3s down on his cock.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s shivered, and it wasn\u2019t from the cold. He choked on the length as it brushed against the back of his throat; he felt the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, then falling and wetting his face again. If he hadn\u2019t just come, he thought, he would have right then, just from that praise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s awoke to the feeling of cold metal against his bare throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
All around him the tent was immersed in dimness, moonlight filtering in through the fabric that was shielding them from the cold. In front of his eyes was nothing but stretched green oilskin, on which the shadows of the trees projected unthinkable figures. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Against Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 throat was the flat of a pair of scissors that Alexej held as if they were a knife, tip pressing against the soft skin of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 throat. It made him shiver with the cold, and with the thought of a sea of crimson leaving his body and soaking his sleeping bag with its dry, metallic sweetness. He was wide-eyed and alert in the space of a moment, his muscles already tense with instinctive fear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej lay beside him, inside the same sleeping bag, and the sweet undertones of his scent embraced Mikl\u00f3s just as well as the sharp notes of sweat that reminded him of the previous night. Alexej\u2019s face, his eyes closed, eyebrows blissfully furrowed, his lips ajar, the sounds of his heavy breathing: it was all still fresh in his memories, almost real in front of his eyes, and not as much in contrast with reality as it might have sounded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej\u2019s belly was a pooling lake of warmth against Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 back, his right arm pulling Mikl\u00f3s close, holding him by the waist, making sure that every possible part of them touched, and his breath \u2014 controlled, but slightly quickened \u2014 was hot against Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 ear. He was warm, so warm that Mikl\u00f3s leaned into the contact, his body igniting with the memory of the previous night.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The tip of the scissors pressed against his throat, but he could tell he had nothing to be scared of. He wasn\u2019t sure it was rational, but he knew it was true.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t want to do that,\u201d Mikl\u00f3s whispered, with a smile on his lips, turning slightly into the embrace. He remembered the hunger in Alexej\u2019s gaze the previous night, he remembered his hands burning hot, and his breath hiccuped in his throat. He remembered closing his eyes and wanting to expose every little square of delicate skin he had.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou think so?\u201d The instrument in Alexej\u2019s hand turned, metal sliding against Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 skin until the sharp tip of the scissors had slid from the rim of his jaw down to his collarbone. \u201cAnd what makes you say that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s tried to control his breath. He tried not to listen to his own heart beating furiously in his chest in a mix of fear and arousal. He tried to look Alexej in his blue, blue eyes and just tell him what he thought: that he\u2019d always been nothing but vulnerable with Alexej, and Alexej had always been nothing but gentle. Even when Mikl\u00f3s ran away from him. Even the night before. Even right then.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBecause you haven\u2019t done it until now,\u201d he replied, somehow managing to voice a part of his thoughts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Their eyes met, and Mikl\u00f3s wanted to shy away, to hide his face in the pillow and calm down so that his thoughts could come straight to him \u2014 instead of these fragments, making their way through a bundle of emotions he still couldn\u2019t completely make sense of. But he couldn\u2019t move, of course, not only because the scissors kept his head still with the threat of opening a hole in his throat, or his chest, but because Alexej\u2019s eyes enraptured him, stole from him the mere will to move one more muscle or to look away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t know the truth before,\u201d breathed Alexej, as he moved to straddle Mikl\u00f3s. His legs astride Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hips, Alexej smiled as he loomed down over him. In the dimness of the tent, Mikl\u00f3s could almost see that smile, guess the missing pieces of that face he knew far too well. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He brushed his palms against Alexej\u2019s thighs in a caress. He breathed slowly, in and out, as the face of that boy who couldn\u2019t breathe anymore flashed on the back of his eyelids.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou wanted to kill me the moment you saw me, didn\u2019t you?\u201d Mikl\u00f3s asked, and it wasn\u2019t really a question. Mikl\u00f3s had known the answer from the moment he\u2019d first seen the boy in the woods. \u201cIt should have been me, slaughtered, not that guy,\u201d he reiterated, as if saying it out loud helped him accept it. \u201cAnd yet, here I am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There he was \u2014 and, Mikl\u00f3s realised, he was glad it was him who could still breathe, who was alive and well. He was glad it was him that was alive and not someone else, even if in some way, maybe it was his fault. He did not feel guilty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej sat back, his hold on the scissors loosening, the pressure against Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 throat decreasing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo why didn\u2019t I kill you?\u201d Alexej tilted his head to one side, a snicker crawling under his question. He seemed to be under the impression that it was a difficult question, or simply to find it comical for some reason. Mikl\u00f3s didn\u2019t share that same feeling, and instead gave a most serious answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBecause you like me,\u201d he said, and even through the blush he hoped Alexej would not be able to see, his lips curved into a smile. There was no other explanation, and he had to accept it,and he was able to accept it exactly because of all that Alexej had taught him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He reached for Alexej\u2019s face, and his fingertips brushed against the other\u2019s amused expression that was on the verge of erupting into laughter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re such a child, Miksa,\u201d Alexej commented, shaking his head, as if he\u2019d just heard a stupid and yet funny joke. But the scissors were safely away from Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 throat, and Alexej let Mikl\u00f3s caress his face, brush hair away from his eyes, nuzzle the stubble he seemed to want to grow out, and skim rough fingertips down his neck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As Mikl\u00f3s did all that, Alexej just stared at him, scissors in hand and a pensive wrinkle sitting on his brow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then, he grabbed Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 hair in a sudden grasp, strong enough to lift his head from the pillow. Mikl\u00f3s gasped in both surprise and pain. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe should cut this,\u201d murmured Alexej, eyes focused on Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 long brown locks. \u201cAnd maybe dye it, too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 eyes went wide for a moment, but before he could say anything, Alexej was holding the scissors properly, and cutting away a good chunk of his hair, so that most of the length remained in his hand when Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 head fell back down on the pillow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He passed a hand through it, feeling the sharp difference between the longer strands and those that had been cut, his head suddenly lighter. He\u2019d always been proud of his hair, and had loved to keep it shoulder-length as long as his parents would allow him to before calling him names and forcing him to cut it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He combed his hand through the hair, pulling away several stray locks that seemed to have escaped Alexej\u2019s grip after being cut. He looked at them for a moment and then, with a deep sigh, he sat up. He guessed it was necessary, so that they would be harder to recognise, so he simply nodded, closing his eyes. For a while, he simply listened to the sound of hair being snipped away. If this was a test, he wanted to say, it was far too easy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t have to worry, Ale\u0161,\u201d he said instead, feeling as if he had nothing he could lose more than he\u2019d already lost himself in those eyes. \u201cYou\u2019ll never have to be alone again,\u201d he promised, feeling happy, in his being lost, and never wanting to find himself again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He opened his eyes when Alexej\u2019s snipping, right next to his left ear, stopped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He found Alexej staring at him, a wrinkle drawing its upset shape between his crooked eyebrows. His hand gripped Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 face, fingers sinking into the hollows of his cheeks so firmly they could have left a bruise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Don’t act like you know what I’m thinking,\u201d Alexej seethed. He took both of Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 wrists into his firm grip and forced them over Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 head. He pushed him back down to lie on his back. He bent down, curved his back over Mikl\u00f3s not unlike the previous night \u2014 only this time it wasn\u2019t to kiss, and bite, and lick, but to put their faces so close that even if they\u2019d barely whispered they\u2019d hear each other all the same. His breath was warm, its smell sharp to the point it left an overpowering taste on Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 tongue without their lips even touching.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou know nothing about me, nothing at all, Miksa.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The scissors were at his throat again, and that crease on Alexej\u2019s forehead was still there. If his hands had been free, Mikl\u00f3s would have smoothed it away. Maybe it was true, he thought, that he didn\u2019t know enough. \u201cWas I wrong, then?\u201d he whispered, the sharp tip of the scissors nipping at his neck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej was staring at his lips. Mikl\u00f3s could tell, and yet he smiled away the irresistible desire to kiss him. The last time he\u2019d tasted Alexej\u2019s lips was only the night before, but he felt like the more he kissed him the more he\u2019d want to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alexej smiled back, his eyes flashing with that wicked light in them. \u201cIf you were right, it was only by chance,\u201d he retorted, whispering against Mikl\u00f3s\u2019 lips. But it felt like a confession. \u201cThere\u2019s so much you don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mikl\u00f3s ran his fingers up their bodies until he reached Alexej\u2019s left hand. He closed his own hand around the handle of the scissors, over Alexej\u2019s. He didn\u2019t try to move it away, to free himself, but followed dutifully when Alexej did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen why don\u2019t you teach me?\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When Alexej kissed him, Mikl\u00f3s wished he didn\u2019t need to breathe, if only so he could kiss Alexej forever.
<\/p>\n<\/i>Love1<\/span><\/span>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"by NTH See this piece’s entry on the Shousetsu Bang*Bang wiki. i. under waiting stars As the night drew on and on, Mikl\u00f3s observed all kinds of people in town who stopped by the bar to drink something: Jan, the mailman, who ordered a beer and laughed a bit with Lara, the daughter of the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[689,425],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7808","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-bangbang-no-82","category-text"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shousetsubangbang.com\/mirror\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7808","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shousetsubangbang.com\/mirror\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shousetsubangbang.com\/mirror\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shousetsubangbang.com\/mirror\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shousetsubangbang.com\/mirror\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7808"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.shousetsubangbang.com\/mirror\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7808\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7809,"href":"https:\/\/www.shousetsubangbang.com\/mirror\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7808\/revisions\/7809"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.shousetsubangbang.com\/mirror\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7808"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shousetsubangbang.com\/mirror\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7808"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.shousetsubangbang.com\/mirror\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7808"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}