Memento Mori (MxM)

Chapter 3

The following morning, Calael was roused from unconsciousness by an astute knocking at his front door. He took a long, dizzy moment to come around from sleep, before finally registering the sound and sitting bolt upright.

Frowning, he glanced over at his phone for the time. He could have sworn his alarm was set for eight, since he never turned it off, but as he flicked to the home screen the time read '05:15.'

How could that be? He hadn't bothered to draw the blinds, so he could clearly see the light of day shining through.. And if his dad was already here, then it had to be nine already!

But the time on his phone had never just frozen before.. Clocks were temperamental, but a brand new iPhone was supposed to surpass the days of clocks glitching at the witching hour.

He quickly rose, clutching his phone in his hand and tapping at the screen as he jogged out into the hallway and  down the old, creaking staircase. The man unlocked the front door to see his father standing out on the door step.

It was a chilly morning, the type where ones breath occupies the air a little longer than it should, and the tall and lean man had one hand buried in his duffer coat, the other blotched white and pink and clutching a Waitrose carrier bag filled to the brim.

Seamus Black had the appearance of a man straddling class barriers, of a million juxtapositions constituting a person. A grey knit scarf was wound around his neck and tossed over one shoulder, and a rather eccentric flat cap was pulled over his greying hair. He was a kind looking man, though his features told of years of hard work and toil. He had a face suitable for motivational speeches and enigmatic business proposals, his teeth unnaturally white and his facial hair groomed to precision, yet there was that wild Northern soul in him; particularly telling in his smile lines, and a grin more suitable for a night at the pub than a company meeting. "Morning, lad. Oversleep?"

"Something like that," Calael murmured, reaching up to scratch his head a little, finding his chestnut hair to be tousled and messy after his restless night. The grease of two weeks without washing it certainly didn't help. He stepped aside to let his dad pass, and the man arched an immaculate eyebrow at him as he stepped inside. Calael shut the door, and Seamus finally grinned a little.

"It's not like you to sleep in. Or to answer the door with a mop-head like that.."

"I did set my alarm, dad. When have I ever been late? I swear my phone is more  temperamental than mum's sense of humour," Calael sighed, producing the device from his pocket to display the screen. However, it was now showing '09:03' and he had to blink hard to check he wasn't simply seeing what he wanted to see.

"What am I supposed to be looking at exactly?" Seamus asked dubiously. "Aren't you gonna let me get in and sit down? I brought you tea bags and everything."

"Yes, yes, but the living room is in a state.. The past owners were very inconvenient and very tasteless; they left almost everything. I'll need your help getting it all up into the attic," Calael said, taking the bag from him without a word and taking it into the kitchen to unpack.

Rather than going straight to sit down however, Seamus lingered in the doorway, his expression distinctly concerned and not at all subtle about it. "Calael," he said, softer now.

Calael paused, but didn't turn around. He recognised that tone of voice all too well. That pitying tone, one that he'd been practically conditioned to expect over the past three months. He immediately didn't like where this conversation was headed, and answered in a droll tone, "Yes, dad?"

"I'm worried. I'm worried about my son. You haven't shaved in weeks, and you're beginning to look on the thin side.. I wasn't going to mention it but, how long's it been since you showered, lad? Your mum's sister - Aunt Margaret, the psychiatrist? She said that, well, when a person starts to let themself go, it's characteristic of - of depression, and - are you certain you don't want to start those sessions with her? Or, anyone else, Lael. Just try the therapy stuff, for heaven's sake, it could really help you!"