19

19

Motavo shut the door behind him slowly and walked into his dark room. He lay down on his bed without turning on the lights. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. It was so unfamiliar, and it hurt.

“You’re back,” said a familiar voice from the bunk above Motavo’s. He rubbed his eyes and didn’t reply. Someone’s head popped into view from the side of the bed, hanging upside down from the top bunk. Klaus.

“You haven’t shown your face here for a week,” Klaus continued. “What do we have to thank for your return home?” He gave a sly smile. “Or should I say whom?”

“What are you talking about?” Motavo finally said, not looking at Klaus.

“Oh, please,” Klaus said, stretching his arms, “the only reason you come back around to the orphanage is because something bad happened or you’re running from some kind of legal trouble.”

He smiled again and jumped down from the top bunk.

“So, what is it this time?” he asked, facing away from Motavo and stretching his arms into the air again. “Stolen motorcycle again? Mugging? Unpaid debt? Or is it a scandalous case of inter-gang feuding?”

Motavo didn't answer. He covered his eyes with his palms. Klaus was quiet after that for a long time, so Motavo uncovered his eyes and almost jumped to see Klaus’s face right over his. Klaus was grinning.

“It isn’t a boy, now is it?” he jeered, his lips still curled into a smirk. “Mota, I thought you didn’t let love get in your way. Isn’t that what you always say?”

Motavo felt his heart get caught in his throat as Klaus spoke. He almost saw a bit of old pain in his ice blue eyes as Klaus looked down at him, even though he was smiling. Motavo didn’t dwell on any memories.

“What makes you think it would be a boy?” Motavo asked in a low voice. Klaus laughed.

“It’s not a secret to me that you’re more interested in the lads,” he sniggered. Motavo sneered.

“I don’t give a f**k about that,” he muttered. “I...don’t give a f**k about anyone.”

“I know,” Klaus replied, his tone suddenly gentle. It caught Motavo off guard. He looked over at Klaus and saw the albino boy run a hand through his hair.

“You know, I’m not an idiot,” Klaus said quietly, almost tartly. “Don’t pretend that I don’t know you’ve been following that girl and her little girl-boy friend. That’s why you’ve been gone for so long.”

“How would you know?” Motavo asked, getting frustrated with Klaus.

“Just because I don’t go out very often doesn’t mean that the others don’t,” Klaus said bitterly. “They see you following them all the time. You even went into that diner with them. Motavo, you’re going to blow it all for us if you keep this up.”

“We’re going to get caught eventually,” Motavo whispered. “Why slow the process?”

“Huh?” Klaus muttered, shocked that Motavo said such a thing. “Do you want to go to jail, Mota? Because you just wanted to follow around a stupid little boy? One who will most likely never love you back? He’s nothing, Motavo, he’s an insignificant little piece of spoiled rich-kid s**t.”

Motavo smashed his fist into Klaus’s cheek before he could continue. Klaus stumbled back, holding his cheek in pain. He rebounded and threw his own fist into Motavo’s cheek, directly under his eye. Motavo felt bone against bone and the gush of blood from his nose. He quickly regained composure and flew at Klaus, kneeing him in the stomach and pushing him back onto the floor. Klaus groaned in pain and scrambled back up, throwing his fist into Motavo’s jaw. Motavo acted fast and shoved Klaus down again, this time sending the albino boy smashing into the dresser drawers. Klaus hissed as Motavo pinned him to the dresser by his collar and shoulders, trying to push Motavo off of him with force. The dresser was about ready to collapse, and a vase that had been sitting on top suddenly fell beside them on the floor and shattered. Motavo still had Klaus pinned as Klaus struggled and strained to get free. Motavo’s nails dug into Klaus’s skin and left droplets of blood, along with the traces of red from his bloody lips. Klaus got one of his legs free and kneed Motavo hard under the jaw. He then pushed Motavo backwards and forcefully shoved him onto the floor. Klaus had his hands painfully digging into Motavo’s shoulders as he leaned down close to his face and slowly spoke with blood dripping onto Motavo’s face.

“You’ve already lost the chance you had with love,” Klaus whispered in a strained voice. “Now nobody will love you after they know about the things you’ve done.”

Klaus released Motavo and stood up quickly. The albino boy wiped blood from his cheek and exited the room, slamming the door shut after him. Motavo struggled to stand, pain shooting through his body. He stood there for a long time in silence before he climbed onto his bunk again and laid there in the dark. He closed his eyes and fell into a blank sleep.

 

When he woke up, Motavo already knew what to expect. He opened his eyes in the early-morning darkness of the room and inhaled quietly. He felt a warm presence beside him on the bed, which was normal. Klaus. He never had his arms around him or any kind of endearing gesture while they slept, but Klaus had always kept his back against Motavo’s. Every night he would climb out of his own bunk and into Motavo’s, then fall sleep. They had never questioned it, they had never mentioned or spoken of it. It was simply a routine ritual.

Motavo sat up and silently got out of the bed, then walked over to the dresser. He undressed and changed into his only other pair of dark jeans and a black hoodie. Slipping back on his shoes and grabbing his switchblade, shoving it deep into his pants pocket, he looked over at the sleeping form of Klaus. He was turned away from Motavo, curled up on top of the blankets. He breathed softly and shivered. It was freezing in their room. Motavo walked closer to the bed and took Klaus’s blanket from the top bunk, and then carefully draped it over Klaus. Motavo stepped back a bit and sighed. He didn’t know what to feel or what to think at that point, about Amantis, or Keevan, or even Klaus. What was Klaus to him? What was Motavo to Klaus?

Klaus stirred in the bed and grabbed a gentle hold of the blanket that was put on him. He didn’t turn but he had woken up.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Klaus murmured, his voice muffled by sleepiness. Motavo sighed again and walked towards the door. He put his hand on the doorknob but he stopped when he heard Klaus sit up in the bed.

“Motavo,” Klaus said, pausing for a while in quiet. “This is your home. Don’t ever forget that.”

Motavo was still for a long time, not giving Klaus any response. Without a word or a feeling, Motavo exited the room, closing the door gently behind him.