JUST THE TWO OF US: Harlan And Cyrus

15: The Cold

The night was cold, and Cyrus was alone. It was a very long day. When Garrett brought him to the station, they questioned him relentlessly for hours, and in the late afternoon, they moved him to the detention center. Honestly, it was a decent facility. Cyrus spent an hour or two in the common room where detainees could hang out. It was a large room with tables, chairs and even two sofas, but it still felt industrial and cold. Cyrus was now in his cell. It was a small room off a long halfway with gray walls and a small window near the ceiling. It didn’t have bars on it, but it was too high and skinny that a human couldn’t fit through it. In the room was a metal chair and steel framed bed that was built into the wall. Even the air mattress that he shared with Harlan last night was more comfortable than this. But it could’ve been Harlan.

Cyrus missed Harlan a lot more than he anticipated. He missed his smell and his arms around his body. Cyrus missed his lips on the back of his neck and the warmth of his body. Cyrus sighed, flipping over on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

He remembered their promise that he broke. Cyrus promised Harlan he would be there when he returned, but he wasn’t. He hoped Harlan wasn’t mad at him, or more importantly, his dad. He thought if Harlan felt the same way Cyrus did about losing each other. Not being with each other. He wondered if Harlan was sad or lonely without him. Cyrus didn’t know, but he wanted to. He wanted to know if Harlan loved him like he loved Harlan. Cyrus hoped so.

Cyrus felt a tear roll down the side of his face. S***, he fell hard. He imagined if Harlan was awake thinking about him. It felt bad, but he wished he was. He hoped Harlan wouldn’t move on to another guy while Cyrus was in detention. He knew Harlan was somewhat of a f***boy but thought they were going places. What if Harlan was in someone else's bed right now since Cyrus is out of the picture. He no longer was burdened with harboring a fugitive. Harlan was free of him.

All of these thoughts made Cyrus feel even more distressed, if that was possible. He hated being here and that he turned himself in, but he knew it was right. f*** being honest. Cyrus rolled to his other side, facing the wall, and tried to get some sleep. He probably had a long day ahead of him getting interrogated. Cyrus imagined Harlan beside him. He imagined the touch of his hands holding him tight. He imagined the sound of his breathing down his neck. Even though it wasn’t real, it was comforting. His eyelids felt heavy, and he finally slipped away.