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“Don’t touch me. Never fucking touch me.” Hayden was shocked at this turn of events. He’d never once seen him react like this. Yes, he had an attitude, but this was something more. He thought back to the bruises he wore when he first arrived. Did that have something to do with it?
He stood back, not wishing to distress Ashok further. “It’s OK. I’m not going to hurt you.” He looked like a startled rabbit, ready to bolt at any moment, and he knew he had to diffuse this situation quickly.
“Why don’t I go and make your tea, get you something to eat and you take your painkillers? I guarantee you’ll feel better once that’s done.”
Ashok slowly relaxed, leaning back into the pillows. He nodded, but Hayden didn’t miss the tears glistening in his eyes as he walked out of the room.
As he waited for the kettle to boil, he thought back on the reaction, wondering what he’d said or done that could have brought it on. All he could think was that he’d called him a good boy. Could that have been it? He didn’t think he’d take exception to him saying he was the boss. He was just stating a fact.
He really wanted to dig deeper, but now wasn’t the time. Ashok needed to rest. He entered the bedroom, a tray balanced precariously on his arm. He was resting, his eyes closed. Was he sleeping? He placed the tray on the bedside table, trying not to wake him.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Ashok spoke quietly, his previous outrage gone.
“I’d do it for any of my friends. We’ve lived together for over a couple of weeks now. I think we’re friends, aren’t we? And what’s your alternative? It’s me or Dom. Which would you prefer?”
Ashok smiled at his words. “I guess you’re right. He’d probably forget I was there.”
“You know he would. He’s got the attention span of a goldfish. I don’t know how Jacob puts up with him.” Hayden sat on the edge of the bed, looking for any sign that Ashok was feeling awkward with his proximity, and handed him his tea. “Drink it while it’s hot, then you need to get some more rest. You still look tired.”
“I’m sorry. About before.” Ashok looked crestfallen as he cradled his cup.
“There’s nothing to apologise for. I’m sure you had your reasons.”
Ashok sighed, leaning back. “I’m tired. I didn’t really sleep that well last night.”
“I’m not surprised. You’ve a nasty sprain. It’ll keep you off your feet for a week at least, I reckon. I know the showcase was tiring too.”
“It was great, though. I’ve not done anything like that before. My father…” Hayden waited for him to say more. There was no way he’d rush him to tell him, but the mere mention of his name was a step forward, as they had never talked about him before. “I should get some more rest. I’m sorry you’ve had to take a day off.”
Hayden took his cup away and watched as he snuggled down under the covers, wishing for a moment that he was there with him, holding him while he slept.
“I told you it’s no problem. You needed looking after. If you want to watch anything, let me know. I’ve most of the streaming channels. It can get boring lying in bed. I had the flu a while back, and it was all I did. I binge watched so much. I was word-perfect in some things.”
He placed the cup on the tray along with the uneaten food. By the time he’d turned back to ask if he wanted anything else, Ashok’s eyes were closed. He must have been exhausted, but at least he’d had his medication. Another couple of days off his feet might see him right.
Chapter Twelve
Ashok
ThreedaysAshoklayin Hayden’s bed. Three days of complete boredom. He wasn’t used to staying still for so long, always on the go.
Hayden had been great. He’d fed him, helped him with the bathroom until he was able to hobble there himself. As long as he held on to the wall, he could manage, but his ankle still wouldn’t take his weight. Hayden had cooked a different vegetarian meal each evening for which Ashok was grateful, and he sat talking with him, telling him about his day until Ashok had fallen asleep.
True to his word, they’d binge watched TV, watching Hamilton several times, and Hayden surprised Ashok when he sang along to most of the songs. It was his favourite musical, and Ashok found himself singing along too, laughing when the recording buffered and the picture froze just at the most important part.
Hayden didn’t have a terrible voice, but he wouldn’t be winning any awards either.
Ashok smiled fondly at the thought, but it soon faded as realisation dawned that Christmas was fast approaching. Hayden was planning on closing up the coffee shop for a few days to go home, and Ashok had no idea what he was going to do. He couldn’t go home, not now.
His mum had messaged him to say his father was going mad not knowing where he was, questioning her and his brothers obsessively, insisting they knew. She told him to lie low, that she was sorry she wouldn’t see him, but as long as she knew he was safe, she was happy and not to worry. He told her he had plans with friends, not wishing to worry her, knowing that actually, he had nothing to do and would more than likely be staying at home on his own.
It was less than a week away, and they were watching some programme about serial killers, another of Hayden’s weird loves. He looked nervous, and that was making Ashok anxious.
“What is it, Hayden? You’re like a cat on a hot tin roof,” Ashok asked. “Plus, you’re making me anxious with all this fidgeting about. If you’ve something to say, just say it.” Fearing the worst, Ashok took a deep breath. This was the moment Hayden would tell him to find somewhere else to stay.
Hayden sighed deeply before turning to look at Ashok.
“Look, Ash.” That was new but not unwelcome. He quite liked a nickname, had never had one before, but was interested in what Hayden had to say. “Don’t take this the wrong way, and I really don’t want to upset you, but… Well, I don’t quite know how to say this. We’re friends, right?”
