Echo of the Past

04. Nivan

Translator: Schiotka
Editor: Pasadera, JacquelineMonaie
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Nivan woke with a heavy head.

He was surprised, because he hadn't drunk all that much yesterday; at least, not enough for him to feel hungover.

So maybe it was the accumulation of the events of the last few days. Or not enough sleep... or maybe...

Yes. What happened yesterday.

Bullseye.

He put the kettle on, sat down in a chair, hooked his fingers behind his head. He looked up at the ceiling, as if searching for clues there.

He didn't find the answer.

He wanted a smoke.

He reached for a packet that had lain on top of the fridge for the last few weeks. Reds. He liked them from time to time. They scratched nicely at the back of his throat.

He lit one and took the first drag.

Leaning back in his chair, he rested his foot against the table.

He dragged a hand through his red hair.

Balancing on the edge.

He closed his eyes.

Yesterday... was good. Different. He couldn't put a name to it.

He'd felt something....

And... wanted it.

He wanted more.

But what is it he wanted?

He drew his brows together tightly.

"Could you not smoke in the kitchen, please?" Marcin's voice ripped him from his reverie.

He shuddered, losing his balance. His remarkable "ninja reflexes", as Marcin would say, stopped him from falling.

"You could have killed me. Don't sneak up on me like that," he said, a hint of resentment in his voice, although he had a smile on his face. His hand clutched the corner of the table; he was still balancing on two legs of the chair.

Marcin didn't return the smile. He had a guarded, maybe even nervous, expression on his face.

Nivan looked him over. He was still in those boxer shorts and the Redhead's oversized sweatshirt. His hands were resting loosely by his sides and the long sleeves covered his palms. His hair was in total disarray. He looked tired, as if he hadn't slept well.

The Redhead lifted his brows and smiled almost imperceptibly to himself, seeing his morning ensemble.

"I've been standing here for nearly a minute. Your ninja instinct is failing you," Marcin answered.

A minute...

Completely lost in some beautiful thought.

... But wait, what had he been doing there for a whole minute?

"A minute? What have you been doing standing in the doorway for a minute?" the Redhead asked, looking up at in him in amusement before flicking ash into a Chinese takeout box.

Marcin realized how stupid his words sounded, but he was too tired to care.

He stared at him. Blankly. He wasn't in the mood for an explanation.

"I was jerking off," he replied with the same glazed expression.

He moved closer to Nivan. He snatched the cigarette from the Redhead's hand, took a drag, and sat down on the chair next to him. With tired eyes he began to stare a hole in the table. "Pity you didn't see it."