Worse Than His Bite

Chapter 19: Head in the clouds

When Phineas awoke the next morning, Sebastian was no where to be found. The bed they had shared was completely empty and had grown cold in Sebastian's absence. Birds sang their morning tunes by the open window, a chilly breeze caused the curtains to the flutter and Phineas curled into the blankets for warmth.

He struggled to form any proper thoughts to grasp his situation. He felt as though his head was full of clouds, sensible thoughts slipping away like rain. Small snippets of information came to him, but the fuzziness of his head made it hard for his to process.

The first dreamy thought that came to him was that he was not where he was supposed to be. It was not his bed that he laid in, nor was it his room. He knew it was Sebastian's room from the mess of it. The door was still off its hinges and placed against the wall, some of the wallpaper had been torn off then carefully reapplied with some sellotape to put it back up, everything that had been knocked over had been put back in place.

The second thought came to him more in his actions. As if by instinct, his hand reached out and stroked the empty space next to him. The bedsheet soft against his fingers. It was within that action that he realised he expected someone to be there, for Sebastian to be there. The room felt so empty and so terribly cold without him there.

The next thought was a thought that sat heavy at the back of his mind. Waiting patiently for Phineas to dwell on it, but he refused. Despite his fuzzy head and drowsy thoughts, he knew what he was doing before he woke up, he knew why his head pounded in a distant agony and why there was a packet of painkillers left on the bedside table, he knew why his body ached, he knew what he had been running from. He would not think about it. He would not.

It simply didn't make sense. How? How could something like that exist? It was impossible, improbable, a crime against nature itself. And Sebastian...

He would not think about it anymore. There were things in this world that were better off not knowing. Instead, he embraced his dizzy disposition and spent his morning lucidly with waiting for someone to come to him. He simply watched the world around him, letting the drugs keep him comfortable.

Sometimes, — it sounded so silly— he thought he felt someone stroke his hair. He would turn around when he felt it, only to find no one there. Just the wind, he reckoned... if the wind felt like fingers. He paid it no mind. It happened sparingly, only four times over an hour and after the second time, he began to enjoy the sensation. It felt nice. Almost comforting. He nearly drifted off to sleep again from the touch, or at least he would've if the front door didn't slam open and shut. There were no voices, but two pairs of footsteps. One came up the stairs, whilst the other lingered.

Phineas waited to hear the door creak open as the person came in, but then he remembered the door wasn't exactly working at the moment. The footsteps were light which was funny for a man so big. The bed sank as the person sat down next to him on the bed. Phineas flipped himself round to look at him, his body felt weightless and he wasn't quite sure whether he could control his fingers or not.

"Hi." Sebastian stroked his face, his hand bigger than Phineas' face. "How are you feeling?" He smiled so warmly. His teeth so sharp. Eyes so dark.

"Good." Phineas enjoyed his touch. His hands were so warm and he was so gentle, it was almost impossible to believe considering everything.  "What were you and Leo up to?"

Sebastian was covered in dirt. His long hair was tied back from his strong face and specks of mud were sprinkled on his face like freckles. His trousers and boots were not so cutely dirty as they were crusted in mud, stuck to the crevices in his boots and splashed up his covered legs and bare arms. "We were just... dealing with something. Don't worry about it, we've handled it."