The World Against Us

No Room for a Third

         My eyes darted open with a panic, as I realized I had been asleep, and yet, the still-darkened room reassured me I hadn’t missed class. And, with that thought, I slightly scolded myself for my mundane lifestyle, where school was my only concern of consequence.
         “You always fall asleep when you cry like that. You left me a bit helpless their for a bit; I’m not sure I can forgive you.” Shinji’s voice melted into the room, as if it was as natural as the floor-boards creaking.
         “Well, I don’t remember the last time I saw you crying. That alone put me into a shock,” I fired back. “Ah, wait, no, I do.” The flashing memory brought me to silence once more, as I dared to think about forbidden moments of our life.
         “Yeah, well... rough night. Well, rough nights,” he answered, gently playing with a small lock of hair which had decided to journey outside of its natural place, not that my hair ever stayed where it should.
         “No joke. Last night was completely out of my calculations,” I lightly spoke, burying my face back into his chest, breathing in the mixed aroma of stale tears and spearmint. It was like a sickening drug, to be be sure: far too dangerous and addicting for a mortal to control, and yet, I was already caught up in the pattern and without enough will to cease myself.
         “You and your calculations. If I remember correctly, the last time you ‘calculated’ the situation, you were in the hospital for a month with a broken leg.” Shinji’s voice didn’t try to hide the utter amusement, nor did it attempt to shield the slight frustration with that such event.
         It had been one of our less recent experiences, but we had only finally just gotten out of the rumors which had spread of our involvement. Of course, who knows what kind of stories would be told after this previous night. More than likely, we would have to begin our days of playing the offense yet again. But, I couldn’t imagine it would be nearly as bad as that time.
         “Oi, it wasn’t the calculation which was at fault. I had everything down to an impeccable science; everything would have been perfect in that scenario. I simply forgot to add in that one discerning factor that I am an unbearable klutz, and who in their right mind would hide a tuna sandwich in a broom closet, anyway? It simply pushed me into a different calculation, to which I wasn’t quite ready for. That is-”
         Before I could actually get the words to escape, I felt his cold hand pressed against my mouth: his clear sign that I needed to cease my incessant rambling. It was one of more obvious signs, and one not typically done in pubic encounters.
         “Don’t even try it. That scared me half-way out of my mind. I couldn’t sleep for that entire month. Every night was like reliving it: opening that closet, and just seeing you there... covered in red.”
         “The stupid gallon paint jug fell on me, Shinji. Don’t be so dramatic. I simply was surprised by the squishy substance I was sitting on, jumped up too quickly, smacked my head against the shelf, and BAM-O, there went all the containers. And, it was a relatively clean break."