Artifice - Man x Man - Book Six

Chapter 36

Silence falls between us. Holding my breath, I find I'm willing him to opt for openness instead of burying the truth down inside. He takes a sip of his coffee, his expression a mixture of vacant and haunted; he's lost to me for a moment. 

"Randy?" I speak softly to pull him out of it, yearning to touch him and longing to go to him as if there wasn't a self-inflicted wedge between us. There was no room for coaxing in this stage of the relationship as he wasn't 'mine' anymore. I relinquished him of that title; the air was heavy with the weight that every decision and action could be our last interaction with each other should we choose it. 

He had to be honest with me and let me in if there was any hope. I surprise myself with my thoughts, willing the hopefulness to creep up into my center and settle where my fractured heart took refuge. 

I had decided, on the back of the insane wolf, that I would put this to bed. If we decided to make it work or not, I had to put this behind me and focus on Helen and Tyler. They didn't deserve this damaged version of myself, but what did I deserve? My mind is at war with my heart.

With a sharp inhale, he comes up for air. "I was. To a research department." 

Suddenly not hungry, he packages his breakfast into a plastic box and puts it into the refrigerator before taking the pan to the sink and beginning the process of meticulously scrubbing it. My eyes travel around the spotless house, every corner polished, every inch cleaned to an absolute science. 

I recall that it's how he processes his anxiety. Slowly, I stand up and cautiously work my way around the kitchen island towards him. His gaze is directed into the sink, eyebrows pulled together, jaw tight, and his knuckles are practically white with the stern grip he has on the handle of the pan. 

The water is scalding hot, and I swear I can almost sense that he wishes it were hotter.

"Then what?"

The abruptness with which he stops makes me flinch; he cuts off the sink and grabs a clean towel, drying his hands deliberately. "We were researched on. I don't exactly know what you're hoping to get from me, Nic. I-" He attempts to calm himself; I can feel the heat building in his body. "There was a time when I thought that being a slave was the worst thing that could happen to me, then you 'died,' and I hit a new low. I would have said I could have tolerated anything after that."

Shaking his head, he runs his hand through his hair uncomfortably, and I know he doesn't want to talk about it. The water dampens his shortened locks, darkening it, smoothing it. "I couldn't tolerate this. I struck up a deal with another department, human resources, or something; I really couldn't tell you. I guess they heard me singing to Kitten."

Like a flip of a switch, he goes from horrified to sickened, laughing at the pathetic nature of the tale. "So, I suppose to answer what I'm doing here- I am to become a public figure. There's a theatre not far from here that I sing at, and make appearances; I suppose it's more of a commodity in this time to be able to sing. It's a shame, really, entertain the people with bread and music, and they will not see the village burning behind them, but anything is better than.. that." 

Used them for research? In what way? He looks the same; even if he's acting a bit off, he isn't exactly an ordinary man.

I try leading him to a gentler topic. "How the tables have turned... I'm fighting for the planet, and you're making speeches." Trying not to look amused becomes a good choice, as he's not smiling.

"Well, I'd gladly trade with you. I've never been good with people as you are." Self-loathing has been replaced with something darker and more sinister. 

What happened to him? 

It softens me, pulling me away from my barriers and back towards the side of me that genuinely cares about him.