Not a Fitting End
"This doesn't seem to be a fitting end for you…"
Rowan didn't know why he heard an unfamiliar voice in his sleep. He felt the coldness brought by death and was so sure that his body should have shut down. Was this the afterlife? Was this how it felt to not forget his past as he lived as a new person?
When the warmth of a body grew apparent, Rowan figured his thoughts were wrong. Soon enough, the sensation of waking up returned to him, and he managed to open his eyes. The room he was in was still as dark as he remembered the night to be, but he could barely move.
He only knew that a person was embracing him as he lay on the bed, weak and cold.
Rowan's eyes closed again, and he woke up for the second time hours later. This time, the room was covered in the soft morning light. He could tell how the place was most likely on the same floor as his old house. After all, the strange elevation of the sun could only be found in high-rise buildings.
"…where am I?" Rowan murmured as he tried to move his head to look around. It's just that his head hurt as if the wound from getting shot made itself apparent. He moaned, uncaring of the sound that came from his mouth.
"You must be fun to play with…"
The same voice from last night echoed from nearby. Rowan held onto his head and endured the pain as he rose from the bed. His hands felt thick bandages almost squeezing his head. One of his eyes was even covered as if it couldn't be helped because of the injury.
Rowan turned to the person steps away, and a man smiled at him. He was standing around in a loose cream shirt and dark denim jeans, only leaning on the doorframe. His hair was fair, but it was undeniably more golden brown than yellow. It was also neatly tied in a thin ponytail.
"How are you feeling? You have been asleep for three days. Your body needed a lot of time to heal." He got off the frame and walked to Rowan's side. The man looked very charming when he smiled like nothing in this world went wrong. "I didn't find any ID on you, so… can you tell me your name?"
"My name?" Rowan wondered if he should give this man his real name. He just looked down as if acting not to remember right on the spot. However, he discovered something strange, so he flipped the blanket off him as if bewildered.
Not only was he butt-naked, but his skin also felt like it had been cleaned thoroughly.
Rowan then realized that he exposed himself to his eyes and to that other man's as well. He blushed deep red and covered up just as fast.
"I didn't find any clothes on you, either." The man chuckled before sitting on the edge of the bed. "At least those people threw you out instead of stuffing you into a wall. You would have died for real."
"Wait, what do you mean? You took me from Scott's—" Rowan cut himself off before looking away. He could no longer lie about a hazy memory. "…it's Rowan… My name is Rowan. Do you have a name for me to call you?"
The man hummed and reached out to comb his fingers along Rowan's hair. However, his swift movement made Rowan flinch in defense. Rowan then realized that the man's hand was only touching his hair. The patient only held that hand with both of his and brought it down.
Rowan murmured, "Please don't touch me."
He wanted to add 'too fast,' but there was no point in being too polite or too familiar. Rowan didn't even know when this man would kick him out. As for leaving on his own, he had nowhere to go now. His entire life was left behind when he came to live with Scott. Without that man, Rowan had nothing.
He was nothing.
However, he felt how something gripped one of his hands. His vision cleared as he woke up from his trance and saw how he was still holding the hand of the unknown man.
"It's Dominique, but they call me Duke more than that. Feel free to call me the same way, Rowan." Duke smiled at him and moved his hand to make the hold more apparent. "Your body warmth has returned. Even if you still need to rest and stay indoors, this means your health is improving."
"Thanks for putting me up…" Rowan nodded, not knowing what to do with his hands or the fact that they were still holding hands. He began to grow redder. "Uh… how long do you…?"
Duke used his other hand to touch Rowan's head. This time, he slowly moved his hand as if giving Rowan enough time to see his movement and feel safe after seeing the soft stance of the hand. A smile curled Duke's lips as he caressed Rowan's head as if he was such a dear thing.
At the amused expression on Duke's face, Rowan only stared at him. He grew embarrassed but couldn't remember the last time Scott touched him like this. It was almost lovingly that it was making Rowan blush just by thinking about it.
"You can stay here as long as you like in one condition. Don't get too nosy. It will kill you," Duke answered the unspoken question and pulled both of his hands, one after another. He even did so slowly as if letting Rowan know… or asking for his permission to leave.
"Thank you." That was all Rowan said. Even after Duke had moved away, he just moved to lie down again. His injury was hurting, and his head was feeling light.
When Rowan closed his eyes, he was knocked out for a long while again.
…
An awful smell of paint thinner bothered Rowan's nose, making him rouse from his sleep. Rowan opened his eyes and saw how the room had gotten darker. The curtains were drawn to cover the sun, but the star-shaped holes on them were as if glowing from the sunlight.
Rowan sat up again, and he found himself in the same bed. He was still unclad, but he saw clothes sitting at the edge of the table. He slowly got to his feet, leaving the bed. With slow shuffles, he reached the nightstand and changed into what was given to him. They were nothing fancy—just a blue long-sleeved shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. However, they fit him perfectly.
Too perfectly that Rowan wondered if Duke measured his body.