Ardent Cure: Lennox and Mielo

 

AN: Leafy, thank you! <3 You are too kind! And don’t worry, we make that mistake a lot tooo. ; )

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Chapter 10-

 

1

                It was late, around 8PM by the time the movie was over in the AV room of the school, and Shay with her group were being released into the night. Lennox offered to drive Mielo home, and he accepted, but had a change of heart as they pulled out of the parking lot of the school.

                “Actually, I don’t vant to go home,” the boy sighed, hoping he wasn’t being annoying by also being indecisive. He leaned his head against the window of the car to look out at the quickly passing trees and houses, envying everything and everyone that didn’t have to be him. “Maybe I could go home, borrow mein vater’s mastercard, und stay at some hotel or somesing. Anyvhere else but home.” His father wasn’t even at home; since the incident, senior Herz had gone to the hospital to fix his broken nose and something that may have happened to his neck. The guy wasn’t able to talk, but if he was, Mielo had no idea what his old man would say. But that wasn’t what topped his fear; he was terrified at what his dad would do once he was let out of the hospital. Would he come after Mielo? The boy knew there was a high chance if he actually remembered what happened--

                “A hotel?” Lennox asked, cocking an eyebrow skeptically at the boy who broke out of his disturbing train of thought. “no, don’t bother yourself, I’ll take you to my place. I have a guest room and lots of space.” The man grinned as he recalled the fond idea of his own house.

                “Eh, I don’t vant to be ein hassle, Herr,” the fifteen year old replied meekly, fidgeting with his buttons on his shirt. If the teacher really didn’t mind bringing him to his place for the night, then he hoped Lennox wouldn’t mind taking a detour to the Herz’s home first to pick up a few things. “Eh, I--I guess … I just need to get some clean clothes und mein toothbrush. Vater ist nicht zu Hause, he uh-- I’ll just be quick!”

                “Sure,” Lennox replied amiably and continued the very short drive to Mielo’s place. The man stayed inside his car as he waited for the boy. It wasn’t long until the kiddo came back out, as promised, with his schoolbag packed full of his things, and he got into the car with haste.

                “Okay, let’s get out of zis shit-hole,” the boy huffed, buckling himself up. He was pretty excited about tonight. It wasn’t bad at his house either, even though his dad was bedridden at the hospital, but it was also lonely and the boy couldn’t help but think about what almost happened to him the night he had to lock himself in the washroom. He remembered having to hear that damned phone off-hook until dawn, when his father finally passed out. Before he did, the old drunk was gargling out cuss’ that Mielo knew was painful, considering he had smashed in the man’s nose and his neck. Staying at home would just keep on reminding him of what he heard, what he learned about his own mother. He needed a night away from the place.

                The rest of the drive was wordless until they pulled up into the cobblestone driveway of the Lennox estate. Only the stone and brick facade of the building could be seen from the street, for the sides were covered and blocked out completely by trees and a tall wooden fence. The trees were mostly young oaks and older looking maples that rose high enough to even embrace the roof with their possessively arching branches.

                “Welcome to my humble abode.” The man declared as he got out of his car, seeming proud of his home.

                “Zis ist humble?” the boy scoffed, though he was no less amazed. The place was much more impressive than he thought, and bigger too. It was a large, grey, stone building that was two stories high that had a rather mystique air about it, not excluding the masculine touch. “I must say, I’m y-jealous.”

                “Oh yeah?” Lennox smirked as he walked up to his front door with his keys out, “I would have thought that my house was a peasant’s hut compared to yours.”

                “Vell, maybe a little,” Mielo chuckled, trying to ignore the warm shiver that was crawling up his spine. “But your home ist more … private, und styled vell. If you noticed, meine hause ist sehr kalt und has no liveliness to it.”

                “Hmm … well, when you put it on that spectrum, I suppose you’re right.” The door clicked open and Lennox entered without even turning on a light to guide his way.

                The boy stayed close to Lennox, not wanting to get lost in this oversized house in the dark. And he didn’t want Lennox to think badly of him either, not that he was able to pin-point why the guy would.

                “Wo ist … sie light?” the boy asked quietly, hoping he wasn’t annoying his host.  

                “Oh! Sorry,” the man seemed flustered for the first time, and he scrambled away to the nearest lamp, “guess I know my house so well …,” there was a click and the circular foyer was filled with a warm amber coloured light, “that I don’t even bother turning the lights on anymore.” He recovered and grinned at Mielo, then beckoned to the boy to follow him up a black iron spiral staircase.

                The youth’s mouth gaped when the innards of the home were revealed. Man, if only he could stay. If only Lennox was his father-- no. He didn’t want a father. Mielo didn’t feel like the word ‘father’ was a positive or fitting title to associate Lennox with. Besides, he felt differently about him. He wondered if anything would happen while he was here.

                “Are you sure you vant to lead me to ze guests room?” the boy inquired, sounding innocent though what he meant was obviously very lewd.

                Lennox turned his head quickly towards the boy, his face serious and almost irate, “yes.” He grunted plainly, “what are you on about? You haven’t even had dinner yet.”

                As if the man didn’t know. Mielo huffed in an almost hurt way, then folded his arms, “eh … I’m not very hungry.” Besides, didn’t the man want Mielo? Or did he change his mind? Or maybe Mielo got the wrong message. Thinking about it was due to turn the boy mad, so he tried not to ponder about all the questions that were lingering in the back of his mind. “But vhatever. Is it okay if I get changed in mein pyjamas first, Herr? I do not mean to be rude but I vould love to get out of zese dress pants.”

                “Be my guest,” Lennox gestured grandly as he walked to the kitchen, “let me show you where everything is first.” He lead Mielo through the top level of the house and showed him the kitchen, the bathroom, the guest room, and the deck out back, then he indicated his own bedroom and instructed Mielo not to go in there.

                “It’s a mess, trust me.” There was a grin on the man’s face as he said this, it didn’t seem natural as he ended the topic swiftly, “I’ll be making dinner. What do you like?”

                The boy nodded, staring at the master bedroom. A man like Lennox having a messy bedroom? He had to be lying-- hiding something, even. Whatever it was, Mielo wanted to find out. The temptation of this knowledge he had yet to acquire was too great to ignore.

                The kid shook his head, leaving his stupor. He didn’t even hear what Lennox had asked.

                “Huh?”

                “What would you like for dinner?” Lennox repeated, not sounding annoyed in the least.

                “Oh, sorry … uhm, vhatever you vant. I don’t care,” the boy waved a hand daintily, then turned on his heel and headed for the guest room. “I trust anysing you make vill schmeckt gut.”

                “Schmeckt?” Lennox cocked an eyebrow in confusion, but let it pass as he went to work.

                Mielo came out of the guest room five minutes later with his PJ’s on. His outfit was completely white, save for the black buttons on the shirt, the black ribbons on his pants, and his name that was embroidered on the left side of his chest in gold.

                “Mmm, smells gut already,” the boy hummed as he took a seat and watched the man prepare dinner. His stomach began to growl a little and his mouth followed suit by watering up. “I guess I am more hungry zen I admitted.”

                “Yep, that’s what I-- what are you wearing?” Lennox chortled with a smirk as he gawked at Mielo.

                The boy’s face grew very warm and he looked away from the man instantly, “eh, zey are just mein stupid PJ’s. Ze company zat built meine hause left zis too. Most comfortable piece of clothing I have, ja.”

                “I don’t doubt it,” Lennox sobered up and raised his eyebrows, “they’re classy. I like them, they suit you nicely. Are they satin?”

                Mielo nodded his head, smiling, “you like zem?” he asked, just to make sure he heard the man right. “Ze face you gave me before almost scared me, I sought maybe I looked silly!--oop!” He covered his mouth, suddenly feeling rude for having spoken so loud indoors. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”

                “We’re not in school, Mielo.” Lennox turned back to the counter he was working over, his pitch lowered to an almost sultry level, “I’m sorry I frightened you, it just looked like you were a karate black belt for a moment, that’s all.” He chuckled as he dumped some chopped up veggies into a large bowl.

                Mielo looked down at himself, then giggled as he realized that he couldn’t blame the man. He did almost look like one with the black ribbon and all. He undid the sloppy knot he made with it and fixed it to look like a bow that belonged on a doll’s head.

                “Hmm, so do you ever get lonely living all by yourself here?” Mielo asked.

                Lennox snorted at this, “I’m rarely even in my house, Mielo.” He hooted, “I’m usually either at school, or out raising havoc.”

                “Vhat kind of havoc? Are you some kind of super villain?” the student teased, narrowing his eyes at the man with a sly smile.

                “Some would call me that,” the man carried the salad bowl over to the table and placed it down in front of the boy along with a small plate and a fork, “I’m so glad I get to use these finally. I rarely entertain.” He then returned to the stove and checked its contents.

                “Und vhy vould zey call you zat? Are you really a bad man?” Mielo continued his facade, though his eyes were paying more attention to the food that was being served on the table.

                “I have unpopular opinions that I don’t bother to keep to myself,” Lennox shrugged as he took two dinner plates out and began to garnish them artfully, “I also attend a lot of theatre and the social outings that accompany them, I write reviews and analysis of the scripts and have gotten a devil of a reputation for what I choose to exalt in them, hah!” He seemed rather proud of himself for whatever reputation he’d acquired.

                “Ooh?” Mielo rolled his eyes, feeling as though the man was just trying to hide something--again. First the bedroom, and now this? How could Lennox be such a tease? The boy was feeling even more curious and very risky. He didn’t care about the man’s social life right now-- he wanted to know about this teacher’s secret life. “Also … may I ask you somesing personal?” Mielo began as he started fixing himself some salad. He had thought of the perfect question to start with.  

                “You may …,” Lennox began thoughtfully, “though I may not feel at liberty to answer completely.”

                “Hmm,” Mielo nodded in understanding, not that he actually reciprocated the feeling he gave off. “I vas just vondering vhy someone as good looking as yourself isn’t married yet. I vould sink ze ladies vould be all over you.”

                “You see …,” the man began without wavering from his work, “this is one of those questions I cannot answer.” There was a smirk upon his mug that Mielo could only see the corner of.

                The boy frowned; there was no way he was able to hide his jealousy even though he didn’t know for sure what this meant. He felt like a fire was starting in his stomach, a very dangerous fire that couldn’t be put out. What was this man’s game? What did he want from Mielo that would allow himself to give in and tell the boy all his secrets?

“Vhy not?” Mielo asked angrily, banging his fists on the table. “Are zer ozzer boys you lure in? Iz zer von locked up in your room right now? Is zat vhy I cannot go in--”

                “I am sincerely offended that you think that of me, Mielo.” Lennox suddenly grew stern and frightening, the way he sounded the day he pinned Mielo up against the board in the classroom, “you are a guest in my house, don’t push my hospitality.” He turned to Mielo, looking at his student over his shoulder from dangerously glinting eyes.

                The boy jumped, wincing at Lennox’s warning. Oh god, he went too far …. “I-- I’m sorry Herr, I didn’t mean …” he lowered his voice, his shoulders shuddering as he humbled himself, “I don’t know vhat came over me.” Well, that was a lie. He did. The green monster took him over for longer than he should have allowed, and he let his emotions get the better of him. “Please, forgive me.”

                “That goes without saying, Mielo,” Lennox confirmed stiffly, he finally had the dinner plates fully loaded with the main course and carried them and the silverware to the table, setting the latter down loudly. There was a tiny suggestion of gratification in Lennox’s approach as he watched Mielo’s now frightened state. “...but I expect you to continue being respectful in this building, understand?” the man continued in his mentor-like tone.

                Mielo nodded silently, but looked up with a glint of encouragement in his eyes. He would always do as Lennox asked; he was Mielo’s only leader after all. Lennox was wise and had a philosophical sense of humour and lifestyle, which was admirable in all its facets. How dare Mielo insult this man in his own home.

Earlier when Mielo talked to Shay, he had convinced himself that there was no way Lennox could possibly be giving this attention to other teens serially, lest Lennox get caught. How could a man so busy even have the time to condone private and extremely discouraged activities with other students? The boy simply felt nothing more than pure self-reproach from his accusation.

                “Good lad, I wouldn’t want to have to show you my basement if you misbehaved further,” the man cachinnated as he sat down, picked up his fork and knife, and proceeded to brusquely tear into his meat.

                Mielo’s emeralds for eyes widened in alarm as he stared at the man’s wolfish eating.

                “My god Mielo, I’m kidding. Jeez! Relaaax, I’m not your father--” Lennox paused, staring at Mielo almost testily. If the kid hadn’t JUST promised the educator a perpetual account of respect in this building, he would have already jumped out of the seat to accuse him of being uncalled for.

                “I’m sorry Mielo, that was out of line,” Lennox’s features appeared almost enfeebled by Mielo’s lack of reaction.

                “It’s okay. I vas too, ve are even,” the teen nodded his head abjectly, then took a bite of food from his own plate. Lennox snickered and shook his head in return.

Mielo hardly understood why he felt happy all of a sudden, except that he knew they were on good terms again. It was almost horrific being on Lennox’s bad side for even the mere 1.5 minutes. He just remembered he had a heart, realizing exactly how hard and fast it was beating. This man was not to be toyed with, especially not by some lowly kiddo like Mielo, who wasn’t experienced at all in the real world like Lennox was. He wanted to prove how contrite he truly was to the teacher, but what could he possibly offer that Lennox wanted?

2

                The change in Mielo’s conduct and geste was more than satisfying to see. Lennox’s voice was a power all on its very own to hold mastery of this silly little foreigner’s self control and emotions. To have the boy in his house, his grasp, and watching the boy squirm in it sent shivers down his core that he struggled to conceal.

                Lennox turned his attention down to his plate to distract himself, this was far from the food he wanted … well, he wanted Mielo, but he also wanted blood and uncooked flesh ripped freshly off of a rib or a femur. The monster inside him clawed at the lining of his belly, he hadn’t had much of a chance to hunt lately, and though he was filling his stomach, it wasn’t enough. Now he was too distracted, and what was worse? Remembering that you’re a ravenous demon, or remembering that you’re a sin-filled devil with unspeakable desires? The English teacher almost laughed as how similar both side of him were.

                The two finished dining in relative peace, and Lennox cleared the table, though he didn’t want to trouble himself with doing the dishes yet. He finally changed out of his work clothes and into a more comfortable evening wear. It wasn’t nearly as posh as Mielo’s, but it was still comfortable and dignified for its kind of clothing. It was a warm looking robe of a scarlet cashmere material with black pants of the same material and a black tie around his waist. He had a thick book in his hand with a worn bookmark poking out of it as he seemed to glide to the loveseat.

                “So, how late will you stay up?” He asked the boy as he sat down. It was a school night, but he didn’t plan on giving the boy any bed time he didn’t want. He was old enough to make his own choices like this.

            Mielo shrugged his shoulders, “eh, in a few hours at most.” He sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes, poor thing only had four hours of sleep in two days, plus the big trip today was exhausting as well. “Do you have any hot chocolate?”

                “I have …,” Lennox thought for a moment. It wasn’t the sort of thing he made regularly, but then again it was bound to be in the house. The pantry was not under his domain of kingship, seeing that he had a thorough disinterest in its contents most of the time anyway, “at least I think I have some chocolate syrup.” Oh, and milk was another thing. Sometimes he craved a sip of the stuff even though it did nothing for his inhuman bones. Luckily for Mielo, however, Lennox had the two components of hot chocolate and he mixed some up, heating it in the microwave.

                “Sorry it’s … simple.” The man hummed, “I don’t usually make this sort of drink.” He set the hot mug down next to Mielo.

                “I have not had any since I vas in Germany-- anysing ist gut,” the kid was getting excited regardless of how cheap his request was. His eyes grew wide as Lennox set it down and then he grabbed it readily, but then pulled away as he winced in pain. “Ayee, I forgot it vas hot!” he whined, blowing on his hands. Then he had an idea, a foxy smirk sprouted on his mug as he held out his sore palm to Lennox. “Can you kiss it better? Bitte, bitte?” he begged with upturned brows and watering eyes, and a playful pout.

                Lennox stood before the boy with a sigh, and placed his hands on his own hips, “what do I look like?” He asked, a half formed scowl on his face, “your grandmother?” First hot cocoa, and now this? It almost seemed intentional, but fuck, that damn little puppy face was too irresistible. The adult rolled his eyes and raised his hands in surrender, allowing him this one pleasure, “alright!” He took Mielo’s hand, palm up, and gently placed his lips upon it. He wished he could look up at the young teen, to see his expression, but he wanted this moment to be perfect for Mielo. He could still feel the boys passion through his Dardexian senses. He closed his eyes....

                The boy grinned as he watched the man kiss his palm, his face becoming very prominently pink. He bit his lower lip as he relished in the feeling of the man’s lips in his own hand. He felt in control of the man for only a mere few seconds, but they were worthy seconds. He lifted an arm, wanting to reach out and stroke the locks of the man that was stoked on making the boy feel like the only one worth living for was Lennox--

                The man could feel the boy’s soul well up inside, he could tell by his scent, his heart rate, and how he stiffened up and relaxed. It must’ve been a great thrill to have such physical contact that he so craved. It was an emblem of the progress, but it would only serve him if he kept Mielo wanting more. The older withdrew and let go of the boy’s hand.

                “Feel better now?” he asked in a playfully challenging tone that was often used in his classroom.

                “Ja,” Mielo nodded, grinning stupidly as he stared at his hand. “Danke Herr Lennox!” he nearly squealed, which was an odd gesture for the boy to do at all.

                “You’re welcome,” he bowed his head formally, “but don’t get used to it. I wouldn’t want you to forget I’m your teacher and not your grandma while we’re in class.”

                “Trust me,” the boy turned his nose up, “Ze idea of  you being remotely related to me vill alvays be ze last sing in my mind.”

 

3

It was a strange thing, being in Lennox’s home. It seemed almost surreal. The boy never imagined that this would have been an ending to a very good day. Usually good days lead to bad nights, or he’d just have an entirely bad day in general. Today, despite the very small instant during dinner, was an amazing day for Mielo. He had learned a lot about American art and culture, he made new friends, and now he was sleeping in the Lennox estate. This day was perfect, and the boy would not let himself ruin it by letting his paranoia get to him so that he could fall asleep in peace.

4

                The boy was asleep, sound asleep, not even a loud television in the next room could wake him up. Lennox could tell by his the sound of Mielo’s heart and his breathing. It was the perfect time to fix up the “mess” that was his room. There were a good many objects set out on the dresser that Mielo wouldn’t want to see, artifacts of his main life, the one that everyone saw … well, everyone but this exchange student. It was now a secret, a devilish secret, despite that it was the only secret Lennox kept in his life that society would ever approve.

                Make-up, perfume bottles, nail care supplies, lotion, and jewelry were all neatly stuffed into the back of drawers. Lennox scoured his room several times for other offensive objects until he’d searched the master bedroom three consecutive times without finding anything. He’d let Mielo in here upon his next visit, which wouldn’t take long now that the first one was out of the way.

                Lennox smelled his hands, some perfume had gotten on them. It was unfortunate … the scent reminded him of his mother. She was the type of woman to wear just the perfect amount of it when she was alive, just enough to barely detect. She preferred flora based fragrances, not the frilly chemical based celebrity lines that were all the rage. The man closed his eyes and remembered her fondly, he saw her standing in the city wearing a suit with her hair tied back in a very neat bun. She wore spectacles that always seemed just a bit too big for her face no matter how many different frames she tried. She wore medium heels and carried a briefcase everyday to work in the city, day in and day out, towing with her the faint scent of flowers that reminded her of her childhood in the country.

                He opened his eyes, looking and feeling shocked to be in the room he’d just toiled in for over an hour. He looked at his watch; it was 1AM--  four hours until he felt comfortable enough to show up at work. What would he do tonight? He suddenly felt dismal and guilty, for all he could remember was his mother now. This is what happened when he was reminded of her. There was only one way to bring him out of it, so he wasted no time in getting dressed once again and headed over to her grave.



                It was an hour and a half to the isolated cemetery when there was no traffic, but two and a half with traffic, but luckily for Lennox, it was late in the city and the streets were barren. There wasn’t traffic anywhere this late. Down to the city, across the Verrazano Bridge or through the Lincoln Tunnel, and onto the mainland Lennox traversed in his lonesome, thinking of how unfortunate it was that this happened to him the night he was housing the boy of his dreams. He allowed himself to speed as soon as he got on the interstate, knowing he’d be able to hear the shrill clicking of a police radio if he approached one before they sensed him.

                It always surprised Lennox to think that there was such isolation only a couple hours outside of the city, but that was upstate for you. His mother was buried under a tree, Andrea M. Lennox. There was a space next to her where her husband, Lennox’s father, was meant to be buried. The English teacher couldn’t allow it to be so, not after what his father did.

What kind of man beats his own son and kills his own brother, and still thinks he deserves to be laid to rest next to his beautiful, kind wife? Well … that was not the main reason he wasn’t here, but it was still a damn good cover story. Lennox had his father cremated as soon as he could possibly have it done, feigning his passionate mourning for the man so that the crematory in New Jersey might’ve felt sorry for him. Dennis Lennox’s ashes were scattered in a place that his son thought would mean something to him, and then was never visited again. Andrea, however, was visited once a month at the very least.

                “Hi mom,” Lennox muttered warmly as he knelt down on the neatly kept grass which was wet with dew, perhaps even a recent rain. He didn’t mind, this was the rare occasion he wore jeans instead of work pants. The thirty-seven year old never knew what to say here, but he also knew that it didn’t matter too much. Ghosts, if such things existed, kept secrets better than the living, regardless if they wanted to or not.

“It was perfume this time. Reminded me of the lilac you always wore to work.” He smiled and sat in silence for a while, letting the good memories come along with the bad ones.

                Cancer patients usually died with no hair whatsoever, but Andrea was lucky enough to have no hope. Instead, she didn’t bother with treatment and died with only the life drained from her body, and not her beauty. It was the last gift she was able to give to her only son, to be able to remember her as a beautiful whole person rather than a shell of a woman hollowed out by chemotherapy and experimental drugs.

                Why do you always leave things out, Lenny?

                “I know you’re not actually here,” Lennox sighed, lowering his head. It was his guilt, he had quite a lot of it in his life, though it was only this particular guilt that he could actually hear. He knew it was silly to be defensive against something in his head, “I don’t know where you are yet … they’re still working that one out. Maybe I can ask one of the animals in the city. You should see them, I know I’ve told you before, but they’re really something.” The animals in the city were smarter than humans, they knew more about death than any spiritual leader ever conceived to the human race.

                “Alright,” Lennox relented after some awkward moments of silence between himself and the tombstone, “I found this boy in my school … don’t act like you don’t know, you’re my mom, you know everything.” He smiled bashfully down at his knees as if awaiting an actual response from the polished and engraved rock, “he’s German and he’s fifteen … I don’t expect you to approve, but at least I can say that I told you.” The grin faded from his face and he lowered his head, kneeling there in silence for another half an hour.

                “I should go, I have class in the morning.” He stood up finally and brushed off some dead leaves from around the tomb and relieved the space of the dead flowers he’d brought there on his last visit, “I’ll bring you new ones next week.” The man concluded, and nodded his head solemnly in goodbye.



                Another hour and a half back to Nassau County, it was around 4:30AM now, just past the most quiet hour of the night. Lennox liked quiet hour, he could hear everything for nearly a whole mile around him, which made it all the more frightening for him to hear the television on in his house.

                “Oh god,” he choked as he bumbled out of his car, fumbling with his keys frantically, “why today? Why today? Of all days!” He hissed angrily to himself as he unlocked his door with great haste. He could see the cold blue light coming from the second floor through the spiral stairs.

                “Please don’t be awake, please don’t--” he muttered through clenched teeth as he clunked up the iron steps loudly.

                He was confused for a moment when he looked around him, he saw the television and he saw Mielo sleeping on the couch. Now why was he there? Lennox’s palm met his forehead, making an audible sound, as he groaned in frustrated relief.

                Her car isn’t in the driveway. I should have noticed.

                “Herr Lennox …?” a sleepy voice sounded from the German who seemed to be waking up. “Oh, bitte, I hope ze television vasn’t auch-- eh.. too loud.” Mielo's cheeks were beginning to flush as he modestly reached for the back of his neck to scratch it. 

                “No … it wasn’t,” Lennox turned it down anyway because the television, on any volume, made his ears feel uncomfortably weird, “what are you doing on the couch?” He looked tired despite not needing sleep but once a month, and he felt tired after the scare he’d just endured. “Was the bed not comfortable enough?”

                The boy winced at the man, looking apologetic.  “I … I had ein nightmare, it vas too much. I knocked on your door but obviously … nussing, so I vent and vatched some TV until I fell asleep.”

                “Oh …,” the man drooped, feeling even more deflated than before, “I’m sorry, Mielo.” He took off his shoes and placed them by the steps. He didn’t feel very wordy tonight, it was odd.

                “Vell I just assumed you vere tired, it’s nussing, don’t vorry about it,” the boy sighed as he got up. “I feel better anyvay, so I’ll go back to ze guest room.” It was almost like the boy knew how Lennox was feeling, as he’d unexpectedly decided to give the older man a short hug after he turned off the television, then headed off to bed.

                Lennox was too emotionally exhausted to reject this gesture, he almost needed it. Mielo disappeared into the guest room and the taller leaned against the television shelf, his thoughts dwelling on everything that happened that night.