Waiting patiently for her to deal with whatever is going on at home, I dwell on my desperate situation. I can still text him and call him, right? There’s no reason why Bellami would prohibit me from talking to Aoi.
The anxiety I felt building up in me slowly recedes back into its black hole. Not everything is lost. As long as he still wants to talk to me, everything will be fine.
“I’m back!” she shouts, almost bursting my eardrum.
I can get my license and come visit him during vacations and call him whenever I want. Once I turn eighteen, I’ll leave France and go back to Seattle.
Yes, everything will be fine.
It has to.
33
Aoi
I dash to the kitchen and come face to face with Visha cleaning up a broken bowl.
“Sorry. Did I wake you?” he asks, fumbling with the shards. “I broke a bowl by accident but I’m cleaning it up right now. Don’t get close or you’ll cut yourself.”
As if that’d be new.
I join him and start picking up more broken fragments, gathering them in my free hand.
“It’s alright. I can do it.”
His overly independent attitude is starting to fucking annoy me. I just want him to rely on me more even if it’s just about a tiny silly thing.
I drop the broken pieces and grasp his hands instead. “Visha. Look at me for a second.”
He’s been avoiding my gaze since I waltzed into the kitchen and that’s highly suspicious. Usually, he welcomes me with a bright smile and asks if I slept well. As a matter of fact, he’d be already hugging me like a baby and drop anything to greet me. Yet all he does right now is avoid my gaze.
He flinches at the contact and pulls away.
“What’s wrong with you? Did something happen?” I worry, scanning his face for clues.
Visha goes back to picking up the pieces of the shattered bowl and cuts himself in the process. “Fuck. Aoi, just leave it, please. I can clean it up, just go.”
His tone is unusually tense. His shoulders slump and he can’t even look me in the eyes for more than ten seconds. Did something happen? He was fine yesterday though. Blood drips from his palm but he refuses to let me touch it.
I did find it strange how he was suddenly so affectionate but maybe he’s lonely? Maybe he went through a bad day and needed some comfort but if that’s the case why not simply talk to me about it? Am I so unreliable? I straighten up and make my way toward the cabinet in search of a plaster.
He can ignore his injury, but I won’t, so I grab the first plaster I find and kneel down next to him. “Give me your hand. Now.”
Visha hesitates so I grab it instead. He doesn’t fight back and obediently stays put as I strap the plaster over his cut. I can’t stop a sigh from escaping my lips which makes Visha look up at me nervously.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you can talk to me. You’re worrying me, Visha. You keep avoiding my gaze and now my touch? We both know that’s not like you.”
He looks down, visibly upset and agitated.
“If I made you think that I would judge you in any way, then I’m sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.”
He suddenly grasps my shoulders and shakes his head frantically. “You didn’t do anything wrong! You’re perfect. It’s me that’s in need of a massive slap across the face.”
“Why would you say that?! No matter what you did, you should never put yourself down like that!”
He sighs and looks down at his lap. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth.”
I bring my hair back then cup his cheek. “You don’t know me well if you think I’d ever see you in a bad light. You’re the most precious person in my life.”
