TIANA

Rubbing vigorously to wipe the fatigue out of my eyes, my feet touched the cold floor slowly moving towards the knocking at the door. A crippling fear formed inside me at being woken up in the middle of the night, unlike most times when it was from that torturous dream.

I was doing my best to keep a level head by telling myself that everything was fine. And before I opened the door, I sent a silent prayer to my maker that no matter what was waiting for me behind this door I would be able to handle it.

After taking a look through the peephole, the worry subsided to be taken over by confusion as I swung the door open to find Luis standing wearing an odd grin on his face. It only took approximately two seconds due to the repugnant stench rolling off his body to come to the conclusion that he had been drinking.

"Hi," he mumbled lowly moving forward to lean against my doorframe, his glazed eyes moving slowly over my frame.

"Luis- ah!"

I yelped when he yanked me forward causing me to unceremoniously land against his chest. His head lowered to the crook of my neck," You smell good."

"You're drunk," I stated pulling his head from the crook of my shoulder. An action he didn't seem to like if the pout he wore was anything to come by.

"More of tipsy. If I was drunk . . . I don't think I would have made it up those stairs," his speech was slower than usual. I narrowed my gaze taking him in: the red nose, tinted pink cheeks and red eyes.

He had been crying.

Without a second thought, I pulled him inside. Even if I wanted to turn him away, my conscious would haunt me for letting him roam the streets in his condition. Besides he was too much of an easy target.

"Look, you can stay here till your ass gets sober," I grumbled turning on the lamp to offer more light to the room. I pushed him onto the couch when instead of his body moving it was his eyes roaming- taking in the living-room. Once his body landed on the soft cushion, I turned ready to grab a blanket from the closet only to have him tighten his hand around mine. I looked back down, a question simmering behind my brown orbs, he looked away and just as I was about to ask him 'what's wrong' he pointed to the space next to him.

He groaned when he saw my lack of corporation to follow his request but I wouldn't budge. He closed his eyes and murmured something under his breath. Even if I tried to strain my ears I would have never heard what he was saying.

The only sound coming from him was akin to a low rumbling, brows pulled together the longer he kept displaying this strange behaviour, the more concerned I grew," What's going on with you?'' I nudged his shoulder gently, keeping my voice soft to avoid startling him.

He looked up at me, moisture gathering in his eyes making them shine surpassing the usual gleam that's in them. Now all I saw was sadness; a searing form of anguish swirling in his grey orbs when he spoke. His voice sounded strained but this time I heard him clearly, the words sinking." Do you think I'm a monster?"

Plopping on the seat next to him, my eyes were yet to stray away from him, pondering the question. Unsure of what to say until I eventually settled on saying," No . . . I don't." The look he gave me informed me of his distrust in my answer and he scoffed before his face settled into the comfort of a frown.

"You should. I came from one," he chuckled darkly.

"I think you should lie down, you've had a long night."

"Rest won't stop the sins of my father from visiting me." he breathed deeply, hands shaking to the point he balled them into fists when he saw my gaze drop to them.

I may have not known the full story about his father, but I sympathized with him for what he must have gone through. And to see him still frazzled despite the years that must have passed made me reach out to rub his back gently. At first, he jumped slightly at the unforeseen gesture until his muscles relaxed under the circular motions my hand generated. He shifted back, his head settling onto my shoulder, keeping his trembling hands firmly planted on his sides. At this point the idea of escaping to confine myself in my room was the last thing on my mind.

When you're accustomed to someone's particular actions or display of emotions, the minute you're presented with a different person a part of yourself naturally wants to reach out to them. And the way he breathed I could tell he was far from calm.

Pushing me to utter the first thing I could think of.

"I don't like the dark," I mumbled lowly staring at the carpet on the floor," the idea of . . . not having the ability to decipher shapes in the dark terrified me. Scared me to the point I needed my mother in the room so that I could fall asleep. Its like my mind could only be lulled by the sweet symphony of sleep because all it took was her smiling face to let me know no monster could come after me."

His breathing had evened out, to a more steady rhythm. I almost thought he had fallen asleep until he shifted wrapping his arm around my waist," My mother was the same . . . hiding me away as best she could from him. W-What Aunt Jeane said was true," he whispered.

"What?"

He lifted his head, creating a distance between us and I could slowly feel him shutting himself away as he placed his face into his hands, refusing to look me in the eye.

"Hey," I grabbed his hand to reveal his face, taking note of how cold it was as I placed it between my smaller yet warmer hands and gave it a gentle squeeze. My expression soft as opposed to the other encounters we had, but now things were different between us. I knew that now.

When things had changed wasn't important." you can say whatever it i-"

"My father is a racist, Tiana. . ."

I grew tense in my seat at the drop in my body temperature as my blood suddenly ran cold registering the words that slipped past his lips.

He turned to me, his face remorseful," That means at some point. . . in the hopes of pleasing him, I-I," he swallowed hard closing his eyes tightly as if finishing what I knew was coming triggered actual pain in his body," I-"

"You were one," I finished staring at the side of his face waiting to see his reaction. The guilt was evident.

"I swear. . . I'm not like that now- not anymore."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me."

"Yes I do!"

His breathing was laboured, nostrils dilated in tune to the anger interwoven into the very frame of who he was that made me indifferent. I fought hard to keep my expression from conveying anything. Meeting his outburst with one of my own would get us nowhere.

"We're a lot more connected than you think. A lot more . . . if I tell you," he groaned, failing to make any sense. The sentences he strove to say were left hanging in the air. I chose to remain silent, to only watch him pull his hair and release a few curses under his breath.

The rest of what he stuttered out of his mouth was hard to hear and I resorted to saying the first thing that seemed adequate to say. Anything to lighten the tense situation, anything to keep him away from those dark thoughts," Tell me about your mom."

His body stiffened and alarm bells rang throughout my mind that I had said the wrong thing, before he lifted his head a small smile on his lips as he turned to look at me." You sound exactly like me," he chuckled leaning against the couch, his long legs splaying out on the carpet. In my eyes he appeared pale, if not plagued by a level of fatigue that's sent him spiralling.

"You started this game, remember? Now answer the question, I'm not going to bother throwing some romantic line at you. The last thing I want is to stroke your ego."

"But I'm in pain," he whined playfully which was a good sign if he still had it in him to engage in light banter.

"I'm serious though," I said leaning on my side keeping a firm gaze on him to see him spare a glance in my direction," all that you were saying although it wasn't making sense, just. . . tell me when you're ready. Or at least when you're in a better condition," I gestured to his frame practically looking drained on my couch.

My words were met with no response and sitting there in the dim light providing a shelter from the world, it was weird how soothing the moment was. And seeing him vulnerable, especially out of the blue triggered a plethora of questions in my mind by just what he meant when he said, ' we were more connected' than I thought. Thus begs the question- if our paths in some other place and time ever crossed unbeknownst to me. . .

"She loved Earth, Wind and Fire," turning my head at his words I found him looking at something in front of him. A blank face whilst his mouth moved," she had this old record player that was a gift. So on days where it was just the two of us. . . where we could be ourselves, she used to play their songs and would even teach me how to dance," he chuckled lowly adjusting his body against the cushion.

"It's crazy how powerful a mother's love is against the forces of evil," his words came out in a whisper, tears accumulating to make his eyes shine," her smile could make me forget about the beating I suffered the previous day i-if. . . my father caught me just, uh," his voice wavered and he cleared his throat. I could tell having to recall the childhood trauma made him uncomfortable. And the raw emotion he displayed had me fighting to keep my sadness for him at bay. Regardless of my initial position concerning him, the humane part of me, sympathized with him. No one, regardless of what others may believe deserved to grow up in such hostile conditions.

He seemed determined to finish the statement as he swallowed past the overwhelming surge of emotions.

"T-Talking to people who-who were-"

I took his hand giving it a gentle squeeze," You don't have to finish that statement," I mumbled softly only to have him tug my hand. He saw the hesitation and sat up slowly closing the space till all I could see was him.

Till all I could smell was him.

"Please," he whispered tugging my hand gently, coaxing me to ignore that cynical voice telling me to not fall for his trap, to remember that nothing good could come out of this. And yet, my body had given up listening to the voice as it adjusted on the couch to lie on top of his large frame.

Relishing in the warmth and gentleness emanating from his light caresses as his hands eventually settled on my waist keeping me firmly against him. But not to the point it was suffocating, I felt small in his arms.

And yet . . . safe.

The rapid tempo at which his heart beat seemed to coincide with the same rhythm as mine, a fact that fuelled the very depths of my body to stir up emotions that many would deem inappropriate.

Just breathe.

I repeat that statement like a mantra, taming my thoughts as I focused on breathing slowly to calm my raging heart. It worked . . . for a few minutes. The quiet, calm environment was disrupted, however, by his low mumbling. My ears perked up at the words he was saying and I bit my lower lip to fight the smile once I registered the song he was singing lightly.

Come to see victory, in the land called fantasy,

Loving life, for you and me, to behold, to your soul

is ecstasy. . .

I listened attentively to him, the familiar words sinking in to a place of serenity transforming into feeling of comfort that made my lids grow heavier. And I felt no fear or worry as the darkness invaded my body.