Game of seduction

Chapter 7

   Emails from Grandpa have been coming with surprising frequency, a new email appearing in my inbox almost every evening. I have read none of them yet. Such a confession may make me sound selfish, and perhaps I am, but I didn't want to hear about how happy he was in the States without us. I know I'm being childish by avoiding his emails, but sometimes such a reaction is inevitable.

   The house is empty, and I lock the game shop up for the evening as I struggle to think of anything to share with Grandpa once I commit to reading his emails. So far everything I've come up with sounds petulant. Admittedly, my mood is only further soured by Yami's poignant absence. He neglected to explain his sudden departure, leaving me with only a brief backward glance and curt wave before disappearing around the corner. That was four hours ago. 

   My phone rests like an anchor in my pocket, pulling me deeper into the couch with every second of inaction. Four hours and not a single text. Bitterness stings deep in my chest, blossoming like a flower constructed entirely out of thorns. Is he even thinking of me at all? If I could access our bond, the same way he could, then I could answer that question, but ever since he received a form of his own I haven't been able to access it. If it weren't for Yami's nearly constant meandering into my thoughts, I would have assumed the bond dissolved, how fortunate that would have been for me.

   Slouching deeper into the cushions, I submit myself to the bitter fantasies of Yami's day fueled by my imagination. He could have left to duel Kaiba, an entirely plausible theory considering their shared competitive nature. But even that doesn't take four hours. My imagination churns like a hurricane, spewing out a multitude of fragmented theories, some proving more painful than the last. The cruelest product of my mind's creation is the image of Yami on a date, a young woman with sweeping dark lashes and glowing eyes peering at him in awe as he reflects the sentiment back to her.

   Acid crawls up the back of my throat as tears prick in the corners of my eyes. Swallowing thickly I banish the burn from my throat but it does nothing to silence the raging blizzard of muddled emotions colliding and piling within me. There is the familiar sting of jealousy and the numb burn of despair, but there is so much more shifting beneath the surface. I recognize the brief flare of anger as it smolders in my chest and the frantic mania of fear as my eyes scour the ceiling for anything that could resemble comfort.

   I know none of these visions are true, only products of a sadistically anxious mind keen on torturing me with the most potent tactic in its arsenal, denial. Even my subconscious knows that Yami is unobtainable, if I had really wanted to keep him I should have permanently bound him to me. Selfish. I know I'm being selfish, but if you can point out a single person in all of existence who isn't a selfish asshole in love, then maybe I'd believe in the possibility of becoming someone better, someone deserving. Alas, there is no such example, and I am left to find my way through this quagmire of selfish and possessive desires.

   The door to our apartment opens, creaking hinges alerting me of my sudden reintroduction from self-pitying solitude. My heart soars to my throat, filling with helium-like hope that Yami has finally returned home, but it crash lands back into my chest as the piercing blue eyes of Seto Kaiba stare at me from the doorway. He's alone, there is no greater disappointment. 

   Brown brows furrow as he studies me warily, a peculiar expression crossing his face as he closes the door behind him. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

   "I'm not looking at you." I grumble, forcing myself into a sitting position. "What can I do for you?"

   "Nothing," He answers briskly, stalking further into our apartment with the same pompous conviction he's maintained since middle school. "I'm looking for the taller slightly more annoying version of you, he owes me a duel where is he?"

   "Well, prepare yourself to be disappointed. He's not here." I answer blandly, keeping my tone flat as I struggled to ignore the twisting pain in my chest as the second possibility of his whereabouts grows prominently in my head.

   "Where is he?"

   "Out."

   "Out where?"

   I look to the Kaiba heir sharply. "You're not going to like my answer, but we can keep playing this game if you like." Blue eyes, a slightly darker shade than his favored dragon, stare back at me with impertinence. It appears I've displeased him either with my answer, my delivery, or both. Truthfully, I couldn't care less if he throws a tantrum in my living room, such a response would only reflect what I'm feeling as well.

   "If you're truly so bothered by his absence, why aren't you looking for him?" He question coolly, his shoulders tucking back into his prim and proper stance. Sometimes it's rather amusing to watch him slip in an out of the pampered rich boy routine, it's like he has to remind himself to make it appear natural rather than admitting it's learned.

   "I could ask you the same question."

   "You could, but judging from what Wheeler has told me your answer will certainly be more interesting."

   "Wheeler," I scoff. "I always knew you were formal, but I assumed you'd take the Joseph path rather than Wheeler when referring to your boyfriend."

   "I'm a traditionalist."

   "I can't think of a single tradition which makes that normal."

   "That's because it's our tradition. Your understanding is neither expected nor required."

   "Fair enough," I shrug.

   "He's really twisted you into knots, just like Wheeler said."

   "Wheeler needs to mind his own business."

   "You know he can't do that. He's just as discrete as you are honest about your feelings." His shadow falls over me as he crosses the room, his cerulean gaze fixated on my face. "I'm rather disappointed in your lack of action. You're such a devoted friend I assumed that devotion would stem even deeper for those you actually desire."

   "You know nothing about my desires."

   "True, but I know actions speak louder than words and right now you're as good as mute." My fingers curl into fists in my laps. He's right, as painful as it is to admit it. If the situation was reversed Yami would probably scour the city for me, yet I'm sitting here feeling sorry for myself. My eyes narrow as his thin lips twitch into a discrete smile, curling slightly in the corners.

   "You weren't really looking for Yami, were you?" I question skeptically, pushing myself up off of the couch. "Did Joey send you?"

   "Your love life is hardly of enough consequence to me to warrant a personal visit," he quips, retreating from my immediate proximity. "I came for a duel and nothing more, but since my opponent of choice is disappointingly absent, I will have to abstain."

   "Poor you," I muse, brushing past him as I retrieve my coat from its hook. "I can only hope you survive the disappointment."

   "You and I both." He mutters, accompanying me like a pompous shadow out the door. Ignoring his presence as much as possible I foster the flame flicking in my chest. I need to find him. I don't know what I'll do once I find him, all I know is that I need to be with him and I don't want to waste anymore time.