Even with a sleep-addled mind and eyes watering from the intensity of light, I searched the room before even comprehending what I was looking for.
Not what.Who.
Hiro.
And though it took my brain a moment to catch up, the disappointment in realizing he was gone was instant.
Rolling over, I confirmed his side of the bed was empty and closed my eyes to cling to the last moments of the previous night before it was reduced to mere memory. Inhaling deep the scent of cigarettes, soap, and something entirely him, I curled into myself while recalling in vivid detail how it felt to cuddle in his arms. My body, which had been permanently trapped in fight-or-flight for so long it knew nothing else, had shamelessly surrendered to his presence. I clung to thatfeeling of safety and boneless relief just a little longer because I knew, once it was gone, I might not get it back.
Sleepily, I stretched my arm out to the place he’d been lying when I fell asleep tucked into his embrace, hoping to find a trace of lingering body heat but meeting nothing but cold.
He’d told me he was leaving. Something about his job.
But after that shower, more meds, and getting snuggled to sleep, my mind denied the possibility of tomorrow.
Aka reality.
Aka this moment.
I was used to being alone, but suddenly, the silence felt suffocating and the world so much bigger than before. Groaning, I pushed up, covers falling to my waist as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and pushed the hair from my face.
Even knowing he was gone, I swept the room again. Seeking a glimpse of his leather jacket, a cigarette, his boots… but all of it was gone.
As though he hadn’t been here at all.
Eyes catching on the Gatorade on the bedside table, I snagged it up and drained the bottle. My throat was much better than before, still a little sore but nothing I couldn’t manage. My body was achy and tired, fingers stiff, and knees tight. It seemed like the fever was gone, and I wondered how long I had until checkout. Judging from how bright the sun was, probably not long.
I needed to get up and figure out what I was doing from here. I couldn’t keep doing this. I needed something more… stable. My health depended on it.
You’re too good for that.Hiro’s words replayed in my mind, and the memory of his voice had my eyes drifting closed.
Four hundred dollars wasn’t much, but I could figure out something. I had to.
Capping the now-empty bottle, I tossed it toward the foot of the bed, and a flash of color caught my eye.
My heart jumped like it was using my stomach as a trampoline as I turned, hope and something deeper lighting me up inside. “Hiro.”
He hadn’t left after all!
But it wasn’t Hiro.
It was a purple backpack. Just sitting there all unassuming on the bed. In my experience, when something appeared unassuming, it was a direct invitation to go ahead and assume all kinds of things.Badthings.
Suspicious, my eyes darted around. Listen, I know I’d spent most of my time here all doped up on whatever medicine Hiro was feeding me, but Idid notrecall seeing a purple backpack lying around.
And it definitely wasn’t his. If he’d had a bag, it wouldn’t be purple. It’d be black. And probably have a hundred zippers with a pocket for some cigarettes.
Remember that fight-or-flight response I mentioned before? She was back and just as obnoxious as ever. With trembling hands and knees, I slid out of the bed, noticing for the first time I had socks on my feet. Black ones that came halfway to my knees.
The intense urge to smell them consumed my brain andhad me going as far as lifting my leg toward my head. The screaming protest in my knee and lower back was the only thing that broke through the intrusive urge and saved me from sitting there like some stray dog sniffing someone’s butt.
What was I even thinking? Smelling socks? Maybe I wasn’t feeling as well as I thought. Maybe I was delirious.
Maybe I was dying.
That seemed more likely.
Or maybe I wanted to know if they smelled like cigarettes and leather.
