Page 95 of Adam, Mine

When he emerged, fluffy and so padded with warmth he was beginning to sweat, the shopgirls cheered and clapped their hands. They laughed and made him turn around and pose a bit. Which was a terrible use of the remaining strength Victor had, but he bore it happily nonetheless.

Victor gave each shopgirl a little money, thanked each of them individually, and then headed back to the train.

His veins hummed with satisfaction and joy. He’d never given so much away before. He didn’t know it could feel like this.

As he settled into his seat, he took the talisman out of his mouth for the first time in two weeks.

Mine

Somewhere, out in the world, Elias was crying.

Victor curled closer to the window, away from the businessman right next to him, and turned his face so it would be hard to see him.

Then he closed his eyes.

He was familiar with Elias’s sadness now. It walked beside him like an old friend. But crying was new.

It was like sadness running down, dissipating slowly as it went. Sorrow welled and stuck in place, but tears had motion. Elias’s tears were making him feel better even as they stung, swollen and raw, in his chest.

Victor felt his own eyes well up.

He didn’t know why they were crying, but he joined him anyway. Silently in the dark, as the train swayed on the tracks.

After a while of this, Victor felt a push of confusion. He didn’t know if it was for him or the situation, but he sent back comfort. The warmth of his clothes and the love he’d received in that small Polish shop. He wasn’t good at making people feel better. But for Elias, he could try.

The current of tears slowed, Elias’s feelings grew quieter and quieter until they were sitting there together. The bond wide open.

Elias pushed hesitancy, then stopped.

It was as though they were standing across from each other, with a pool of water between them. Every tiny gesture they made, the surface rippled.

Victor pushed curiosity and received bashfulness. Then silence again. His bones hummed in this space, this nothingness. He rolled the talisman around in his hand, resisting the urge to use it again.

He knew something was happening. At this point, he couldn’t tell whether it was good or bad. If having this closeness was expediting his death or not.

It felt nice the way scratching an itch feels nice. Or how the echo of being electrocuted felt nice in a dizzy, painful way.

Victor bit his lip. He remembered the confusion of that emotion he couldn’t name. How it battered his conscious like an unwelcome guest. It was like Elias had been trying to send him something complex that never quite made it through translation.

He thought hard, then combined their shared feeling of longing, the scratch of Elias’s version of impatience, and despair: I can’t wait to meet you again. I might not make it.

Silence. Then a flurry of things flashing so quickly Victor couldn’t quite grasp them all. Confusion, embarrassment, bashfulness again, panic, despair, determination, old anger—so old it felt dry and brittle.

Then desire, quick and hot. It shot through Victor like a spear to the back and he gasped. Elias had moved on to other things, like fear and regret. But that bolt of desire echoed in Victor’s mind. Tied itself to where fondness lay in Victor’s brain, entirely without his permission.

He could feel Elias’s desire growing like a vine there and had to stop and manually tear it to pieces. It didn’t belong to him. He wasn’t. That wasn’t. That was a part of Elias, not a part of Victor. But he understood it, God did he understand, and he felt so foolish for not respecting that, for manipulating that part of Elias. Felt so embarrassed of the boy he’d once been, months ago in Elias’s tavern.

Elias, meanwhile, was sending him confusion and sadness, in variation, getting louder the longer Victor did not answer him.

Victor quickly pushed Elias understanding and comfort and the feeling of distraction, and the other man quieted.

Then they were back. The pool of water between them, cool and still.

Victor hesitated, heart racing. Then he pushed a whisp of desire followed by uncertainty.

A wave of humiliation, protectiveness, shame, and the sense of having made a mistake.

Elias hadn’t intended for that emotion to snake through, Victor understood. He huffed and felt fond again.