Lukewarm Dream

"Asta!"

I gasped, awakened by the voice of Marvel. I blinked and from my eyes dripping some briny water, still warm and painful despite my unconsciousness, rushing as if the blockage had been destroyed. Beads of sweat had arisen all over my body, soaking my clothes wet. Cold.

"Asta?"

I flinched. The same voice that was calling my name had become softer, and just slightly, I could even hear the concern in it. When the blurry image in front of me was gradually turning clearer, I knew what I was seeing and I was right.

It took me a while to realize that I had been in Marvel's bedroom, no longer in Doctor Plainn's clinic. I shifted my vision to find the clock, it was two past midnight.

So, Marvel brought me home from the clinic, and then...

I couldn't remember anything and to be honest, it was scary. That mysterious doctor, he didn't intend to kill me, did he? I got a weird dream when I could finally sleep after all this time and...

Huh? It was... a dream?!

I immediately turned my head and Marvel was underneath me, my crotch above his stomach, my hands clenching the clothes around his neck. I was straddling him and I didn't know why. I didn't know how.

On his bed, we were facing close enough to feel each other's presence, unless when I was unknowingly grabbing him by the collars and in the realization of it, I could only be stunned in silence, temporarily unable to react.

"How are you feeling after the medication?" Marvel asked and reached my forehead, his fingers softly wiping my bangs aside to see my face properly. "You got a fever."

He gazed upon my eyes that were slightly shaking. He watched my complexion and talked as if there was nothing wrong with my behavior. He touched me like he always did and in an instance, I got my awareness back.

I got down and jumped backward, staggering after that abrupt move. My lips quivering before they could even produce a word, my fingers slipping away from Marvel's clothes like they no longer had any power left to grip. I gulped hard. Composure couldn't quite disguise my fear.

"I... I'm sorry that I fell sick..." I stammered, pulling away from him that my shoulder bumped with the backrest of the bed. "I've learned my lesson... I won't do anything reckless... I will obey you, s-so please don't get angry again..."

As Marvel got up, he frowned in confusion toward the oddity of my speech and demeanor, inconsequent than any five-year-old. He didn't do anything to respond, just watching. The silence separated us long enough. At such moment, I was filled with my own dread and incapable to identify the new ambience that pervaded the air.

"When did I get angry at you?"

Marvel asked me with a low, unemotional tone. His cold stare was enough to hammer my chest, the strikes radiating pain in a way that shattered my heart, or at least, that was what it felt like. My gaze fell to the tiles, sticking on the concrete. When he slanted closer toward me, my jaw clenched in anticipation and already I was resigned to the discomfort to follow.

"If I were really angry, you wouldn't have-"

Marvel halted as he cancelled his sentence. I looked at him, the vulnerable image of my reflection dwelling on his steel-blue eyes. I believed he was going to say something to make me miserable, but then he stopped, probably still having compassion.

"Nevermind it," he rose from the bed and stood up, his hands inside the pocket so as to make me feel safer from any forthcoming physical contact. "Lie down and go back to sleep. Make sure you also take your medication tomorrow."

Without hesitation or even looking back, he left me and walked away. Every step filled with certainty and I was afraid I couldn't prevent the expanding gap between us, his back already distant.

"Sir, I..." I called weakly, making his steps pause right before the door. "I will go to my room, so you can sleep on your bed..."

The silence hung in the air instead of an answer. There were times when we met such quietness as a transition phase as when we were neutral to rediscover our senses. When I was all better for my patience, Marvel crossed with an unexpected apathy.

"Don't make me say my order twice. I despise that."

Along with my unrequited sentiments, he left me speechless. His unsmiling side profile that was slightly seen from his broad back felt faintly dim, resuming his exit before finally disappeared by the doors and the reversion was impossible.

The clock went tick and tock, so loud as if it were pitying my solitude. The thin lights in the room shone upon my hair, making the strands even lighter than amber as I was sitting on the bed, my lone figure creating a delicate silhouette.

Pretending to be okay, I can't lie under this pale face, can I?

Come to think of it, that doctor, what medication did he give me? The dizziness I was suffering from has already disappeared now, I'm indeed feeling much better, but the nightmare was hell...

Sinking into an ocean of thoughts, Marvel emerged from the depth of my mind. It was already past his time to take a rest, but he was still in his formal clothes, almost suffocating to see, like he was on guard. I wonder if I was giving him a hard time because I got sick?

'Sir, I will go to my room, so you can sleep on your bed...'

'Don't make me say my order twice. I despise that.'

'I'm sorry, but... in a room as big as here, I won't be able to sleep if I'm alone... So, I'd rather go than be without you...'

I wish the conversation went on like that, and for Marvel to stay with me... After losing composure, I just froze up. It's no excuse, I know; I own my behavior.

Still, I had tried to be good, and then a trigger was flicked, my emotions turning bitter, fearful, anxious. I backed away, fleeing from him who cared for me. At that moment, I was least proud of myself, for I failed to be the man I was meant to be, and instead, showing the frightened boy within, damaged and afraid, the one still hiding in the dark, fearing the future, regretting the past.

But, isn't my present scarier, because it's the reality?

I know it is for me to work on, not for others to mitigate. I am an adult, after all.

Yet, I asked for consideration, on top of that, even when I was roughly grabbing him by the collars and straddling him and all, how could he be just so defenseless, lying there beneath me? I don't know what I did while I was sleeping, but just by seeing his reaction the moment I woke up, I could tell he was holding back.

So, when his favorable toy starts to break, even someone like Marvel can become this patient, huh?

And then, I never expected his patience to keep growing until the calendar page was turning.

***

Never before have I noticed how time is so much like water; that it can pass slowly, drop at a time, even freeze, or rush by in a blink. The clock says it is measured and constant, the part of an orderly world; the clock lies.

The past thirty days had passed like a thousand camera frames per second shown one at a time. In this slow motioned world, the heartbeat was louder, the coldness was colder, and the colors were darker. All of that while my inside felt as if there was nothing there, nothing to need feeling, nothing to need feeding, nothing to need anything at all.

Marvel has been avoiding me, and we haven't been together for a whole month.

Normally, I would wait for him in his bedroom until midnight, until far past midnight, until he came back, without complaints. Even when I had fallen asleep before he returned, I would wake up in the middle of it, and we would continue until dawn.

But, that day, I woke up in the morning and he wasn't by my side. Only the trace of his musky scent that remained on the wrinkled bedsheets next to me was the proof of his last presence. When I looked for him around the mansion, I came back with the answer that he had left for some business with Gilbert. And what caused him to keep the distance from me was probably because I was sick.

Since he brought me back from Doctor Plainn's clinic, he hasn't called me to his room. I don't know what he was discussing with the doctor that day, but I got a hunch it might be something unpleasant...

Was it about me?

"Thank you for your hard work."

I just got back to the mansion when a voice from behind me made my steps halt right before my bedroom door, trimming down my thoughts. I turned around, and it was- To be honest, I didn't know who they were.

Standing by the hallway, there were three young men, grinning at me in such a vague way, making me suspicious of their motives. Watching the way they appeared; their gesture, their characteristic, before long, I knew they must be Yerevan's dogs.

"It looks like the master has gotten bored with his toy already," the shortest one among them sneered and I snapped inside, knowing what exactly he was talking about.

"A year is the limit, huh," the other added, not less hostile. "He's never kept a toy longer than this, though."

"Meaning the toy must have already been completely wrecked after being used for such a long time, right?"

Now, they found it funny. Ridiculous, for me toward them. They laughed as if the person they were mocking, other than me, couldn't hear their ugly sound.

Just go, Angelo. These pricks only want attention, so don't waste your time-

"You know, it's useless to beg for your position back. He can be a bit lunatic sometimes, but we all know he's a man with a character. He won't pick up something he's already thrown away, so just give up and come to us. If revenge is what you want, we can give it to you. And to be rational, three is more satisfying than one, right?"

At first, I was planning to ignore them and walk straight into my room without having to show my claws. But, they didn't seem to be willing to let me off with peace.

In the realization that I had been exposed to the possible misfortune, I lost my reasoning. In a split second that their faces were illuminated by the moon from the window, my expression fell to a controlled visage of anger, and how repulsive, how revolting I thought their laughter was.

I knew if it was the real me, I would run forward at this point, breaking those ugly features with my hands, but I couldn't, so I took a deep breath, composing myself.

"Thank you for the offer. But, I don't serve animals," I smiled at them before slamming my bedroom door shut.

Despite the ruckus they were creating in response to my scornful reply, they didn't even dare to bang my door. And as expected from the people with no authority, they didn't have a choice other than to give up.

Still, I know it was just a hollow threat, but I can't lie that their words hit the right spot...

About me being Marvel's toy?

That's not it, right?

Lately, along with no access to enter Marvel's bedroom and office, the investigation has come to delay, and it's been a while since I sleep in my bedroom. It's essentially mine, but for some reason, it feels unknown to me. Am I supposed to be here in the first place?

As a spy agent, I should be able to adapt quickly to a new environment. It isn't a big deal. Just, when I've begun to get used to my surroundings, I always feel there's a gap in between the situations each time I place myself, and it tends to be uncomfortable to blend.

At this point, my current position will only lead me nowhere, and I can't let it happen. If I want to go back on track, now is the time for me to reset everything.

Before it's too late.