“I don’t know.” Levi shrugged. “I just wanted to.”
“Do it again?”
Levi did it again.
44
Slice of Life
Levichewedslowly,standingat the counter in Asher’s kitchen in the morning light through the window over the sink. Just toast today again because it was simple and he knew he could feed it to himself, it would stay down, and he’d be okay. His jaw worked and his throat accepted the swallow and the food went where food was supposed to go.
He was on his third piece this week. Not third today — third in seven days. But each one had stayed down and each one had been a piece of toast he put in his own mouth and chewed with his own jaw without Asher’s fingers or Asher’s hand or Asher’s voice telling him when to swallow. The meal supplements were still on the counter. He still drank two a day. But the toast was his.
He could almost think clearly.
That was the strangest part of the past week — the clarity. As if someone had taken a damp cloth to the inside of a window he’d been looking through for weeks and the smudges were gone. Hestill had brief moments where it would fog, Asher would tell him he was staring at nothing, or would flinch from Asher’s touch, but it felt like a little less every day.
The bite mark on his neck faded from purple to yellow, but Asher noticed when they were watching one of his bizarre documentaries, so it was back to purple.
This is my life now.The thought had stopped arriving with horror attached. It just arrived.
He left the kitchen and went to the living room. His posters were on the walls — Asher had hung them, leveled them with a measuring tape, asked Levi which wall for each one with the earnest focus of a man curating a gallery. Then he decided he liked the posters, demanded Levi tell him every game he’s ever played, and was slowly filling his house to resemble a nerd den.
The only thing Levi really had to put his foot down on was the horror game posters.
It wasn’t just the fact that he had spent three weeks living in a horror game, but the games he tried to play and the games he watched Ethan play were still a sore spot. He wanted to believe that making it out of the system would have helped with some of the pain that still lingered with Ethan’s memory, but when Asher asked him why he had two Playstation 4‘s, he had to explain that one was Ethan’s. He never used it or turned it on, because it was filled with all of his save data, and he had an irrational fear of destroying that. Asher just let Levi talk about what was on it, and the next day, he had cleared a place on his bookshelf for it.
The Switch was still on the coffee table from last night. They’d played Animal Crossing together — together meaning Levi played and Asher sat beside him and asked questions with total seriousness.Why is the raccoon charging you to make the island better for him? Is that legal? The island economy seems predatory, Levi.Asher had opinions about Tom Nook.Strong opinions, includingthe raccoon is a monopolistand Levi laughed so hard he had to put the game down.
Asher was more okay with Animal Crossing than with the dating sim. It became something of an intrusive thought for Asher, which he always shared with Levi in the form ofHave you deleted that game yet?andThe lamp doesn’t deserve you.
All in all, it was sweet. Confusing, but sweet.
The nightmares still came, every few days now. He’d wake up gasping and Asher would already be awake beside him, eyes open in the dark, and Asher’s hand would find his chest. Sometimes he’d hear or see things, and Asher always noticed. Levi would describe whatever the blip was — eyes in the bathroom doorway, shadows moving on the wall, the sounds of the aliens — and Asher would produce a knife.
Levi had stopped trying to figure out where the knives came from. Under the mattress. Taped to the bedframe. Inside the couch cushions. Asher had knives the way other people had loose change.
Asher would take the knife and get out of bed and clear the room. Methodically, silently, the way a person cleared a room who had been trained to clear rooms. He’d check the bathroom. The closet. The hallway. He’d come back and saynothing there, put the knife somewhere, get back in bed, and pull Levi against his chest and the gesture was so…
Levi didn’t have a word for it. Protective wasn’t right. Sweet wasn’t right. Asher was clearing imaginary threats with a concealed weapon, he was a murderer, and somehow, the gesture made Levi feel safe.
He woke up because Asher wasn’t holding him.
The arm across his ribs wasn’t there. The chest at his back wasn’t there. The breath against his nape, the thumb that did its small idle circuit on his hip even in sleep — none of it. Asher had not slept without his arm around Levi a single night since Levi moved in three weeks ago.
The clock on the dresser said 5:14 and the bed was too warm, radiating heat from Asher’s side. Levi had gotten used to Asher running hot—Levi was always cold, so Asher clinging to him every night was kind of nice because he never woke up with frozen fingers. But this felt strange. He turned over slowly.
Asher was on his back. That was off too — Asher slept on his side, curled around Levi, or on his stomach with one arm thrown across him. Not on his back, hands open at his sides.
“Asher?”
Nothing.
Please don’t be a nightmare, please don’t be a nightmare…
“Hey.” Levi propped himself up on his elbow. “You okay?”
Asher’s lips moved.