#tmiw

You heave the axe over your head, bringing it down with full force, splitting the erect log into equal halves, the blade sticking into the wooden stump below with a loud thunk sound. Sweat collects in your brows, rubbing your face into the sleeve of your shirt to wipe it off. A foot up to keep the stump in place, you force the axe out and replace another log in its steed. Your arms feel stiff, like taut cables running up and down, tightened in places. You roll your shoulders, trying to rid them off some their tension before continuing your ignored chores.

The sun is blaring down today, happy to take its spot high in the sky, beating down heat onto your back. You fight the urge to shuck off your long sleeved shirt, wanting to work in your usual attire of tank top but the knowledge of not being alone anymore snaps you out of your daze. You readjust your grip on the handle, tightening both palms around it and bringing it back up to your head again. You grit your teeth, mind flashing back to the upturn of the carpet from yesterday, and swing.

The axe deviates from its central aim, unequally dividing the log and lodging itself deeper. Your breaths come in heaving pants now. All the overthinking you had done yesterday did not seem to be enough, still finding yourself incessantly thinking about it. Your brain had been kind enough to offer you multiple scenarios to justify the supposed disturbance of your usual furniture but nothing seemed to satisfy you. You weren’t even out for that long and with how Leon’s leg was progressing, stairs would have been the last thing on his mind and you’d have certainly caught him in the act.

The breath hitches in your throat; unless he was pretending.

You glance up towards the porch of your cabin, a bead of sweat trickling down your temple, eyes adjusting to the bright sun, squinting to find Leon sitting on your worn out chair, shifting restlessly in it, surely unable to find a comfortable stance. Luna sits next to him, one ear up in curiosity and watching him carefully with a tilt of her head. He says something to her you can’t make out, watching his bangs move as he blows air at them in frustration. You watch as Luna inches forward to his outstretched hand, tail wagging as she allows him to scratch her head.

Tearing your eyes away from them, you wrench the axe out, staggering back a few steps, not anticipating how harshly you had pulled. Maybe you had unknowingly pulled the corner of the carpet when you had come back from the walk, or maybe it had happened earlier in the day. You steal another glance up to Leon, uncertainty brewing in your stomach at how familiar he was behaving around Luna. Should you call her to you? Or was this a sign to consider him to be someone you could trust.

You shake your head, continuing to chop more firewood. Thwack!

You couldn’t even go and check, to throw open the cellar door and inspect every speckle of dust just to see if it was out of place. You may as well drag Leon down there yourself, offering him a grand tour of the place, showcasing every piece of possession down there. He had not acted suspiciously all day, no indication of anything he had done to make every single alarm in your head go off.

If you were brave enough you would have been standing over his head, demanding answers, right from the beginning. But so afraid of what you might find, you don’t. Instead finding it better and easier to stick your head down in hopes that he will leave from your life like how he had arrived; in an instant. You hope that he isn’t a manifestation of your guilt, some karmic retribution thrown in your lap as the heavens sneer down at you.

You kick away the stray piece of wood, making to grab another log. It feels softer under your touch, the bark breaking away under the slight pressure of your fingertips. Strong odour greets your nostrils as you jerk it away from your face. You twist it around to find a dark, burrowed hole. Rot, eating away the pulp and leaving it hollow. You throw it away, far from the fresh ones so it does not spread.

The scraping sound of metal against wood, snaps your head up to Leon where he’s dragging the chair a few inches forward, kindly assisted by Luna who nudges the seat from the back. Heat flares in your chest, burning to your toes, unable to tell if its due to his blatant ignoring of your various warnings of ripping his stitches or the way Luna seems to have adjusted to him so quickly.

So you pick whichever is easiest to explain.

“Stop moving around!” You snap, trying to glare at him but finding it difficult against the bright sun, “You’ve only just begun to heal and you’re going to set back whatever progress you’ve made.”

Leon gives you a sheepish look, settling back into the chair, “Sorry, it’s just that I’m feeling a little restless.”

Yes, you know. His damn walking stick had woken you up unceremoniously from sleep, racing down the stairs like a mad person only to find the contents of his side table scattered on the floor. The look on his face was deep in apology, saying that he was just walking back from the washroom, clearly underestimating the distance he had left to cover. You had inched away quickly from the room, registering the thin veil of your clothes, the cold air making goosebumps erupt on your skin. But not before telling him to be up in the morning for a change of pace. Your heart was still pounding when you had gone back to your room, mind abuzz and trying to dissuade yourself that no, you had simply imagined Leon’s lingering gaze on you.

You set the axe down, leaning against the handle, “It’s why you’re outside. Watch the pretty birds or whatever.”

He scoffs at that, averting his eyes to give Luna a scratch behind her ear. You watch his lips move, unable to comprehend what he’s saying.

“What’d you say?”

“Nothing,” He’s quick to answer, glancing at the axe in your hand. “I could help you with that, you know.”

You shrug your shoulders in frustration, beginning to collect the chopped firewood. Why does he keep saying that? You don’t need his help, you’re capable, you’re fine. You don’t need to fall into the comfort of relying on someone. You can do this – have been doing this for a while now. Alone. By yourself, for yourself. Because he will leave as he is allowed to by the divine decree that will deliver onto him the wood and the tools needed to escape your island of isolation, forgetting you once he passes the hazy fog.

“No,” You grumble, wrapping the cloth around the logs and trudging up to the stairs, purposefully avoiding looking at him. The chair scrapes as you near, Luna pattering aside to give way, a shadow falling over you and stopping you from moving further.

You look up to see him towering over you, one hand gripping the railing and the other reaching out to you, palm open. You feel your throat dry up when his steely blue eyes land on yours, piercing as they seem to look through you. And it unsettles you, again. The familiar sensation of your skin ripping apart open at his mere glance returns, like the divine hands that crafted you breaking you open piece by piece to reveal your truth.

You stare at his palm instead, hanging your head low. You find another scar there, this one jagged and long across his palm. And it almost feels vulnerable, his hurt more visible than yours but still he stands, the hand that once suffered open to offer help. And suddenly you feel yourself overcome with the desire to trace the scar, for your fingers to softly graze his skin and to feel every bump and callouses that litters his hand. You want to feel his warmth seep into your bones, hoping to take away some of his pain.

Luna’s quiet little bark shakes you out of your thoughts, coughing uncomfortably as you hope your voice comes out as natural, “What?”

“Give it here,” Leon speaks gently, gesturing to the load in your hands, “You’ve done enough.”

“No, come on-”

Leon descends one step down, shutting you up as he crowds in your space, making your heart stutter. All you can do is stare, watching as his face comes closer to yours, enough that you can see the soft freckles decorating his face. Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes stuck on the way his features have melted in softness. You can’t look away, drinking in his expression to your fill, desperately trying to quench a thirst that you don’t understand.

The weight disappears from your arms, Leon turning around and limping his way back inside with Luna trotting on his heels, leaving you standing on the stairs. A gust of wind breezes past, enveloping you in its sweet scent.

You follow him in, stopping at a distance to see Leon depositing the wood in the basket next to the fireplace in the living room. You watch as he picks one up waving it at Luna as she begins to wag her tail in excitement, following it with her eyes. He throws it gently at a distance, with an enthusiastic fetch! Luna bounds towards it happily, grabbing it and bringing it back to him with her head held high, feeling ecstatic at the generous head scratches she receives in return.

You don’t know when you start smiling, cheeks protesting at the unfamiliar movement, a sudden fullness flooding your heart. It grows wider when Luna approaches you, tail wagging and ears up in request for sharing in her joy. And you do, crouching down to her level, putting your arms around her neck and burying your nose in her fur. She shares in your joy, sitting down as you pat her, glancing up to Leon. And he’s already watching you warmly, arms folded across his chest.

Shyness takes over, surprised that emotions that you buried deep so long ago are making reappearances, the wide grin replaced with a small upturn of your lips. You become hyperaware of the visual you must be providing; sweaty and dirty. And you can barely meet your gaze with him as you pass him by muttering a “I’ll go wash up”, feeling your heart hammer again in your chest as you climb up the stairs.

--

Dinner is a quick affair.

It’s silent, only the noise of spoons and forks clanking against the dishes echoing in the air as the two of you sit opposite each other in the kitchen. You make Luna sit on the rug now, having better faith in her to keep watch to ensure you don’t meddle down the path of insanity. The silence doesn’t feel heavy this time, seemingly sitting at the table like an old friend.

You can tell Leon wants to say something, it’s in the way he pauses between bites, clears his throat but then decides against it. You don’t push him either, happy to act nonchalant. The dishes are whisked away quickly, Leon grabbing yours in the millisecond when you turned your attention elsewhere, already standing at the sink and rinsing them. He reminds you about the tools. You nod at him, telling him tomorrow.

You bid goodnight, give Luna a kiss, tell her to stay and within minutes you crash on the comfort of your bed, the fatigue of the day quick to pull you under.

Only to be greeted by an overwhelming scent of antiseptic.

The fluorescent lights are blinding, glaring down relentlessly from the ceiling above you, making you squint. You try to move your head, pain shooting at the sensation as you register the strap tight around your throat holding you down, a gag firm across your lips. Panic builds in you, hands jerking to remove the gag but you can’t. They’re tied down, bound to cold metal bars under your skin, loosing sensation in your legs due to the grating knots.

The surface you’re tied down to is hard and freezing, no padding to save you from its harshness. Your breathing quickens, tears stinging and spilling from your eyes, only able to whimper and choke on your own saliva. The thin cloth that covers you does nothing to help against the cold temperature of the room, shivering as you feel stuck, shutting your eyes tight but the motion doing nothing to block out any light.

You hear a metal door open, heavy and creaking, two pair of footsteps scuffling in. Hot tears dribble down your cheeks, finding yourself at the mercy of two strangers, clad in white from head to toe with their faces obscured. They stand over you, unaffected by your tears and thrashing. One peels back the only barrier you had against the two as the other grabs a syringe and spares no time in plunging it in your abdomen.  

White hot searing pain consumes you, the flames eviscerating every fiber of your being, turning bones to dust. Your vision ebbs away, replaced by nothingness but the pain doesn’t subside. It eats you up from inside, bursting your lungs, every rib cracking one at a time, the sound of it resounding and echoing loudly. You gag on your spit, wanting to scream but no voice coming out. The black lines start streaking up and down the whole expanse of your body as you writhe, the two masked strangers dissipating in smoke.

You twist and turn, desperately wanting to be free from your shackles so you can claw at your skin and rip yourself apart. A sudden hand clamping against your cheek stills you. You blink furiously, tears dribbling down your face as your eyes come back into focus.

A knowing smirk, dazzling his teeth, concern flickering in his brown eyes as his long hair is tucked firmly behind his ears, the scent of cigarettes lingering in the air around him. Luis.

Wake up, señorita.

And you’re back in your bed.

The collar of your shirt sticks to your neck, your hands immediately darting to your wrists, rubbing them in comfort. The covers are in their usual spot on the floor, finding yourself panic under their weight. You sink to the floor next to them, palms spread against the cool wood as you try and contain the buzzing sensation in your head, evening out your breathing. Luis, you shudder, god I hope he’s okay or at least better than I am.

You swallow thickly, saliva feeling like sandpaper against your dry throat. Water. You scramble to your feet, hands shaking as you twist your door open, descending down the creaking stairs. Luna immediately perks up at your presence, stretching from her spot where you had left her and padding towards you. The sensation of her soft fur against your leg grounds you, the shake of your hands no longer a tremor as you sip water.

The thought of your bed, images of yourself bound down in your hellish nightmare, makes your stomach churn, chasing away any sleep. You bite back a sob, feeling the walls caging you in, returning to your single sofa in the living room, pulling your legs up, a heaviness occupied in your throat making you sink further. Moonlight streams in through the window, dousing the room with streaks of silver, starkly highlighting your isolation by plunging the walls in its cold.

You pick a spot on the wall across from you, slowly loosening your hold on reality and crawling back to the quiet of your mind where nothing except silence exists. You go numb, everything fading away piece by piece until all that remains is you.

You hear the echo of a thumping sound in the far off distance, the shimmer of warm light trickling your skin yanking you back to reality. You blink. Leon stands with his stick in one hand and the other on the handle of his open door. His hair looks tousled, sleep lines inked across his cheek. But his eyes are alert and they’re focused right on you.

“Alright?” The heavy cadence of his tone breaks the monotony of your home, the warmth and silkiness of his voice enveloping you instantly, returning warmth to your system.

You want to say yes, tell him you’re okay that you just came down to get some water, that he shouldn’t worry and go back to sleep. But you can’t seem to bring yourself to say it, his eyes proving to be compelling and encompassing, tugging an unfamiliar sensation in the pit of your stomach.

A pitiful shrug is all you can offer him, hanging your head in shame.

He hums in acknowledgement, flicking the light off in his room and limping over to come sit on the sofa opposite you, the rhythmic sound of his stick aligning with the beat of your heat. Luna is happy to see him, going over to greet him with a wag of her tail. And you drink in the sight that greets you. Leon is smiling softly at Luna, scratching behind her ear as she gently rests her head on his lap, seemingly content in each other’s company.

Leon’s eyes flickers up to you, extending the smile to you as well. “Want to talk about it?”

You shake your head, quickly wiping away the stray tear that’s halfway down to your cheek. The low lighting in the room makes it easy to face Leon, adamantly still staring at him as he looks over your face, trying to see the redness in your eyes or the blotchiness of your nose. If he sees it, he says nothing. He just looks at you, indulging in the quiet that doesn’t feel suffocating anymore, shrugging the hair away from his tired eyes, softly petting Luna as her eyes drift to close.

“You know,” He breaks the silence, “It just occurred to me that I still don’t know your name.”

Your fingers tighten around each other, pulling your knees closer to your chest, finding your voice. “I know.”

Leon’s smile is gentle, “This is the part where you tell it to me.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes focusing on a spot over his head. You only offer him a pathetic shrug of your shoulders, “You don’t need it.”

“I beg to differ.” Leon adjusts himself on the sofa, playfully nudging the walking stick, “What if I fall?”

“I’ll hear you.”

“What if I can’t find something in the kitchen?”

“You’re a loud guy, I’ll know.”

He sighs, it sounds more in wistfulness than in annoyance. It’s unfair you think, how pretty he looks in the moonlight, bashful thinking on your end that he was only allies with the sun; it seemed he had teamed up with every celestial body. It gives him a halo, glittering his skin and his eyes impossibly blue. His stare in unwavering as though he’s solving a puzzle, trying to find one end of the thread so he can start pulling to unravel. But all he ends up with is a tangled web.

“Why not?” He gently prods.

“Because,” You say in a hushed tone, “It’s not important.”

Leon scoffs at that, raising his eyebrows, unimpressed. You release your hands, letting your legs fall to the ground, feet scraping the cold wooden boards. And then you whisper it for him, with a soft roll of your tongue into the twilight as though handing him fine china cradled in your hands. You wince at the way it sounds, heavy and murky, leaving a lingering sensation of distaste on your tongue.

But then Leon echoes it back to you, in test and it nearly upends you from your chair. You’re convinced it’s not even the same name. He says it so tenderly, like saccharine dulcet drips from his lips. He says it with such reverie that it stuns you, freezing you in place, a part of you wanting to hear it again, almost pleading but unable to beg. The heat spreads rapidly across your face and what else can you do but look away, hiding the barely there smile before he can see it.

“How can it not be important?” He tilts his head, twinkle in his eyes, “It belongs to you.”

\ A tingling sensation grips you, flooding you from head to toe. You hadn’t heard the sound of your names in ages now, feeling like a hollow echo on the occasion you would say it out loud just to reassure yourself that you had not forgotten, that you were still present and not a snapshot of the past, cast aside as insignificant as the world moved on.

A small laugh manages to make it out of you, “Yeah…I guess so.”

Leon brightens at your laugh, leaning forward carefully so as to not disturb Luna, “I know I’m new here but I’m just letting you know that you can talk to me. I might not be as great a conversationalist as Luna here but I can try.”

You pause, contemplating his offer, heart feeling less heavy than it was mere moments ago. You wonder how he does it, how he managed to pluck away the bug that had been eating away at you for years with such ease. Your heart swells again but this time it feels light as air. So you nod, with a little hesitation and that relaxes his shoulders.

Leon returns your nod, making to grab his stick, carefully settling Luna’s head on the cushion next to him before getting up. He hobbles back to his room and turns to look at you one last time before closing his door. He stops, offering a soft turn of his lips and then gently shuts the door.