10 The Intruder that is Needed

Andrzej was an intruder here, an uncomfortable witness of a humiliating incident, someone who should not exist in Śliwiński's world at all and knew it well. But he couldn't bring himself to leave. Someone who has been attacked less than a quarter of an hour earlier should not be left alone at home so as not to summon demons.

"Your tea," he held out to him the cup the actor always used for himself.

"Thank you."

"If that's not a problem, I'd like to stay in the lounge at night. In case he comes back."

Śliwiński's shoulders shrank slightly.

"I'll prepare the bedding ..."

"There's no need to. You should rest now. Please don't worry about me. I promise not to cause you trouble."

"I know" Śliwiński sat on the edge of the bed, both hands embracing the hot mug. He tried very hard to smile and look at his visitor, but instead his shoulders began to tremble. "Sorry," he quickly wiped indiscreet tears.

'Damn, what should I do?' though Nowicki

Andrzej wanted to go over to him and hold him tight enough to stop him trembling, but he was afraid to do so. He had no right to invade someone else's personal space, especially at a moment like this.

"It's not true that men don't cry," he said without moving. "They just have to have a reason. I think today's events qualify for that."

Śliwiński sniffed.

"I'm making an idiot of myself."

"I promise not to tell anyone."

He laughed nervously, briefly.

"Thanks."

He seemed to relax a little. His eyes were still moist, but his mouth was already forming a tentative smile.

"I'm sorry you had to witness all this. Usually, Marek doesn't go that far, but today ... I told him that I wanted our contacts to remain purely professional for a while. I don't think he liked the idea."

"So is it because I took these pictures ...?"

"Not quite," Śliwiński shook his head, looking at his cup. "You were right that I should have been more careful. It's not that I want to live a secret lie, but I'm not ready to face social prejudices yet. I didn't even tell my parents, so if they found out from the media ... But Marek ..."

He closed his eyes. He couldn't hide the pain he was feeling.

"As for the pictures, I'll give you your money back" Andrzej said.

"What? No!" He objected vehemently. "I'm grateful you sold them to me! Keep the money, please!"

"But ..."

"Please!"

With what intensity those aquamarine eyes were staring at him! Andrzej had the impression that he was looking at a kitten begging for a caress. What an absurd association, he thought, shivering down his back.

"We'll talk about it another time," he conceded halfway. "Drink your tea while it's warm."

"Ah yes, thank you."

'How polite and kind he is. It's downright unnatural. But it's cute in its own way. Shit, why am I starting to think of him that way?' wondered photographer.

The hot drink blushed the actor's cheeks. In the evening light, Andrzej could see that his eyelids grew heavy. Śliwiński was really tired both emotionally and physically.

"You should sleep" Nowicki announced, stretching out his hand for the cup. "Don't worry about anything and just relax, Mr. Śliwiński. I'll be downstairs just in case. Just call me if you need me."

"Dominik."

"What?"

"Can you call me by name, Mr. ... Nowicki?"

"All right, Dominik, I'm Andrzej."

Śliwiński smiled. The fatigue was more and more evident in his face and sluggish movements.

"Make yourself at home, Andrzej."

"Fine. Good night, Dominik. If you need anything, just call out. Okay?"

"Okay."

Andrzej left his bedroom feeling a painful stab in his heart. How terribly lonely Dominik Śliwiński must be if, after such traumatic experiences, there is no friend he would like to call. How he desperately needs anyone if he allows the man who blackmailed him to roam his house with impunity and feel at home. How he desperately needs intimacy when he is passing on a name to someone he should hate.

Nowicki entered the living room and looked at the place where the attack had happened. He recreated the whole scene in his imagination and gritted his teeth. On the floor were magazines scattered and a shattered coffee table that faded into the fading dusk.

This is evidence of a crime, he thought. They should remain as they are until the police arrive. However, the police will probably not be called, and the sight of the battlefield will only hurt Dominik when he gets up in the morning. The boy has been through enough. Why recall drastic memories?

However, you never know if some evidence of this incident will ever be useful. Andrzej put the mugs in the sink and returned to the living room. He pulled out his phone and took some photos. Then he closed the window blinds, turned the lock, turned on the light, and took a few more photos. Then he started cleaning.

Here Dominik hit his shoulder. It must have hurt. His back hit the edge of the table - it's a miracle that the piece of furniture slammed, not the spine. Here, Marczak pinned him to the ground. There were two drops of blood on the panels.

How cruel! How mean!

Andrzej cleared away all the remains of the furniture in a garbage bag. He collected the magazines and placed them in a pile on the dresser. He took a basin of water and a cloth from the kitchen and wiped the blood off the panels on his knees.

When he finished, he turned off the light and sat down on the couch where he saw two men having sex. It was a strange experience, but the piece of furniture was absolutely clean and smelling as if it had just come from the factory. Andrzej was not going to sleep that night. Not only was he moved by the whole incident, but he was worried about Śliwiński all the time. He wasn't sleepy at all, but he didn't want to turn on the TV he was sitting in front of. He was afraid that he might not hear the voice coming from above.

He lounged back on the couch and stared at the ceiling.

He was ready to respond to any call.

***

Andrzej woke up nervously and saw a figure above him. It took him one and two tenths of a second to recognize Śliwiński in the light coming from the kitchen. The actor bent over him and covered him with a blanket.

"Dominik?" He asked surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Sorry, I didn't want to wake you up ..."

"That's not the point. Something happened?"

Andrzej was seriously concerned. He had a feeling that by respecting the actor's privacy and emotional wounds, he might have inadvertently ignored his physical injuries, which could have turned out to be serious.

"No, northing." Young actor assured him. "I just woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so went down to get water. The nights are cold so I figured I'd put a blanket over you."

" Thanks."

Andrzej was fully awake. He noticed that Dominik had changed. Now he was wearing a dark gray T-shirt and pajama pants with a fine check pattern.

"So you can't sleep, right?"

"Mhm."

"Do you want to watch TV?"

He considered the offer for a moment, but whatever argued against was defeated against the desire for human companionship.

"I want."

Nowicki shifted on the couch making room for him and Dominik sat down next to him, pulling his knees up to his chin. He turned on the TV with the remote and they started selecting programs.

"What do you want to watch?" Śliwiński asked, looking at the screen.

"I don't know what's on TV. Rarely watch TV."

"Me too," he admitted, and changed the channel.

"Maybe they play some comedies somewhere?"

The actor nodded. He chose the canal, and after a while they saw the familiar silhouettes of two older men standing by the fence, arguing with a Bug River accent.

"May be?" Dominik asked.

"Perfect."

The actor put the pilot between them and rested his chin on his lap.

Andrzej liked 'Sami Swoi'. He considered the film one of the best comedies ever made. He watched her dozens of times and yet she still made him laugh. Today, however, he devoted only part of his attention to the film. He focused the rest on the man sitting next to him.

The young actor was pale, or just the glow of the black and white film made him feel like that. He was slim, and although his body was nicely sculpted with exercise, he seemed more fragile today than the characters he played, which he made up for in their vigor and bravado. He had a really attractive profile, where almost feminine delicacy and beauty were harmoniously combined with masculine strength and firmness. The left lip, slashed with a fist, gave the impression of a bloody forget-me-not flower.