Sure, he had good looks, but those had admittedly come later in life and, by then, he’d been too studious to attract the popular girls and guys at school. He was smart, smart enough to have completed his degree and held onto his position at the university. But he was no genius. He just happened to have developed the skill to accurately read people, and much of that was thanks to his schooling in the first place.
He'd been fun and open to new things prior to his grandmother’s death, but after he’d turned into a closed off robot, going through the motions without ever really feeling or caring about any of it, people stopped coming around. No one wanted something like that. Even he didn’t want himself.
But now…
“You said it felt like you were drowning in the ocean,” Sila reminded, proving that he had in fact heard him, at least that last time. “I dragged you up for air once. I can keep doing it. I can breathe life back into you, baby,” his hand ghosted higher, over the curve of Bay’s hip, “I can make you keep going.”
Bay swallowed the lump in his throat. “I don’t want to die anymore.”
“No?” Sila’s hand paused over Bay’s arm, then lowered so he was actually touching him again.
His skin felt hot in the chilly room, the pads of his fingers lighting Bay on fire instantly.
“Are you not feeling well?” Bay wondered if he had a fever. If the cut on his hand might already be infected. “We should go to the hospital.”
“Go?” His hand tightened around Bay’s bicep. “You aren’t allowed to go anywhere.”
“Sila,” he kept his composure despite how hard he was being held, “you’re ill. We need to get you checked out by a doctor.”
“Excuses.”
“It isn’t.”
“If I break your legs, you won’t even be able to try.”
Bay risked reaching forward, his hand shaking as he did. When he pressed his knuckles to Sila’s forehead it was to find him clammy and hot. He almost tried sitting up again but recalled how his collar restricted him.
Had he been wrong earlier? Was the real reason Sila was acting this way because he was sick and out of it?
That was…scary. And not in the fun way. Caution. He needed to proceed with caution.
“Breaking my legs won’t be necessary,” he said.
Sila cocked his head. “No?”
“I already made my choice, remember? Death or the Devil. I chose you.”
“People change their minds all the time,” Sila argued. “That’s the problem with emotions. They’re fickle. They trick you into believing one thing even if logic dictates another is true. You chose me because you believe you no longer want to die. What about tomorrow? Or the day after? Or the day after that? I can’t be around you twenty-four-seven. I can’t be there to ensure you don’t go back on your word.”
“I’m not going to try and kill myself again.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Sila.”
“You shouldn’t believe yourself.”
“Do you believe yourself all the time?” Bay countered, though he kept his tone soft. This was a precarious situation, he was aware. Whether Sila was acting like this due to the fever lowering his inhibitions or what, he was dangerous and volatile right now. Unpredictable. “Do you trust yourself implicitly?”
“I trust no one,” he said.
“Not even your brother?”
Sila paused. “Of course I trust my brother.”
“But he has feelings. How do you know he isn’t a slave to them just like everyone else?”
“He is.” He didn’t sound all that upset by that, not like he had when they’d been referring to Bay and others.
