Echo of the Past

24. Marcin

24. Marcin

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Night.

A dark room illuminated only by the dim glow of streetlights breaking through thin slits in the blinds.

The scent of two men. Of their sweat and passion.

The glowing point of a lit cigarette.

And the smoke intermingled with the heavy atmosphere that engulfed both.

They were sitting on the bed. So close yet so far apart.

Nivan, leaning against the cold wall, smoking the cigarette.

Marcin, naked, covered with a blanket, clutching his knees.

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Nivan wasn't sure why he was so angry. Why he was absolutely fuming.

Why it affected him so much.

"... I was able to look past the fact that you went to that party and tried to get some guy's ass in Oslo," Nivan began. "You should thank Firyal, because she justified your actions to me afterwards, even though she herself probably didn't believe what she was saying. I was able to look past the fact that the same guy tried to rape you..."

Marcin winced at the last sentence. It sounded so disgusting.

"... And I really don't want to remember how you dealt with that," he continued. "I looked past the fact that I found you in Oslo, trying to get some other guy into your bed. I really try to forget how many times you came home and lay down next to me after banging some ass off the street. You've fucked me over too many times. But somehow, I can live with that. Because that all concerns me and my decisions. I made the choice to look past it all. But I cannot ignore the fact that you let yourself be hurt. That men have harmed you repeatedly. That you've willingly allowed the same fucking shit to happen to you. Is your brain fucking malfunctioning?" Nivan demanded, worry and anger showing plainly in his voice. Wide, disbelieving eyes looked at his lover with contempt.

It had been a long time since Marcin had heard that tone of voice. Since he'd seen that expression on the Redhead's face.

"I can't explain it to you. Sometimes it was just better to go with it, so that after all was said and done, I was still able to get up from the bed."

"Sure, it's much better to allow someone to fuck your ass over and over. To let yourself be raped and then get up and go home."

"Don't say it like that," Marcin pleaded.

"Please, tell me then, what should I call it?"

Marcin ignored the last jab.

"You didn't see me after what happened in Oslo. You've never been in a situation like that. Ever."

"It wasn't me who pushed you into that situation in the first place."

"No, of course not," he said, letting his head hang. "I'm going to my room, Nivan."

"Like fuck you are! Sit down and don't you dare move your ass," the Redhead growled, and then added, "About all that running away – you're right. You always ran away. Especially if it involved the truth about yourself."

Marcin froze.

He was sitting, his head still hanging loosely, staring at his uncovered toes. He was silent for a full minute, before raising his head to look at the Redhead.

"What the fuck, Nivan? Don't you get that I just looked for someone who was at least a bit like you?"

"Don't you dare try to make me feel guilty," Niv shot back quickly.