The kid with bruises.
The suspicious father.
The interrupting bystander.
Calvin AKA interrupting bystander was at the hospital that night I had passed out from alcohol.
My upper body was spilled out of the bathtub dripped with glass-like droplets of foamy water. I pondered on the event once more, trying to better explain the uneasiness I felt.
I had made the connection. What else?
For whatever reason he was at the hospital, it had nothing to do with me.
Easing my back into the bathtub once more, I shut my eyes slowly, absorbing the serene environment. It was enough to ease my nerves and clear my head.
My fingers traced the curved edge of the warm, wet bathtub side before moving to trace my thigh. I took deep breaths and motioned my hand to the pace.
Even with a blank mind, I could still sense that something was missing in this particular mood. Something or someone.
I bit my tongue back and gasped.
Desire truly was the root of all evil. The single word 'want' has built and collapsed dynasties.
Nevertheless, what else could humans do except 'want'.
Shaking my head, I stood up, stepped out of the bathtub, and wrapped my body with a towel.
That night, I slept in a towel tied to my body and a certain someone to my mind.
Waking up in the middle of the night by virtue of a cold shiver, delirious over a steamy dream. Due to my tossing and turning, the towel previously wrapped around my waist had rumpled on the bed.
I stood up, got changed into my nighties, a cotton camisole, and shorts, and headed downstairs for a cup of warm tea.
On the ground floor, Jalen laid passed out with his body half splattered on the couch and floor. The intoxicating smell of whiskey hovered faintly in the air around him.
I sighed.
Deliberation on whether to help him out or not took my mind by storm for just a couple of seconds before I strolled by straight to the kitchen and made myself a cup of tea.
Screw him!
I sat on the counter table, enveloping the warm mug in my hands before lifting it to take a sip.
The warm liquid quickly hurried down my throat and my body felt its effect within minutes.
With the clarity that the warmth brought I closed my eyes and tried to be present in the scene from my dreams once again.
Haziel had his arms wrapped around my waist and his breath trailing my neck softly.
I took another sip of the tea, using the beverage slithering through my system to clear those thoughts out of my head.
Pulling my phone out of the pocket of my shorts, I scrolled mindlessly through some emails, chat, and social media feed.
This routine was one I had repeated in the past, sitting with a cup of tea scrolling through countless art posts and Haziel paintings.
It was a pattern I was happy to redo to calm my growing anxiety on my impending imprisonment to Jalen.
Dropping my phone face down I took one more sip from my cup and stared thoughtlessly into the void.
Was it Calvin I had seen in the hospital?
Did he recognize from the get-go?
If so, why didn't he mention it?
Did he not make the connection?
I tapped my finger on the cold marble top of the kitchen counter, wondering if it was him, what had he thought about the child with bruises.
Picking up my phone once more I sent out an email to the orphanage informing them that l would visit sometime during the week. I also glossed over Haziel's number on my phone hesitating sending him a message.
I acquired his number because of the charity event. I murmured to myself silently, yet promptly failing to prevent myself from thinking "what otter bullshit."
Fed up with idly away, and, a drowsy feeling creeping up my skin. I rinsed my cup and went back out into the living room where the passed-out Jalen had started a mild snore.
Stopping dead in my tracks I stared at him silently for a while before walking to him and attempting to wake him.
I tapped his shoulders ever so lightly and uttered gentle words.
"Jalen... You need to head upstairs and rest properly."
He had most likely heard my voice as his snore stopped. I repeated my sentence once more, this time around a bit louder.
His response came out muffled. I shook him a bit and his eyes opened up to the lightest brown color I have ever seen.
The feature was prominent and the softest thing about him. His gaze on me was hazy, appearing like he didn't even see me.
"C'mon," I said assisting him in getting up. Jalen sluggishly lifted his body off the ground with my aid and in a little less than a millisecond crashed into the sofa, back first.
He threw his head back, lifted this right hand, and proceeded to massage his temples. His eyes opened, were shut closed again, before opening up taking me into his view.
Locking my eyes on his, I felt a huge sense of pity filling me up. People were responsible for their actions, I can't save someone who does not wish to be saved. I know that.
However, Jalen was a person I once perceived an aura of ease being around. Perhaps, I blinked one day and he was exchanged with a shadow of his former self. Because that was how fast his transition into the man who drank excessively and used bitter words felt. As though it had happened within a fraction of a second.
Not letting him gander much longer, I walked away from his gaze and went right back upstairs.
Up in my bedroom, a text had come through.
[Hi!] A message from Haziel popped up in my notifications.
Dream of the devil
{Hey.}
I bit my lip before pressing send. The response came back quickly.
[I'll send some paintings to you that I think would be suitable for the event you're hosting.]
A driving file was the next message that came through.
{I'll be sure to check them and get back to you. Thanks again for agreeing.}
No response appeared until 20 minutes later.
[*smirk emoji]
{I set up a meeting with your critic three days from now. Are you available?}
[Yes, Sure.]
The silence around me immediately felt denser. Being used to Haziel's normal attitude around me, his text gave off a different feel to it.
I supposed I had secretly wished that his interesting persona spilled through into his text. Not this straightforward.
{Great}
I replied putting an end to the conversation.
My thumb pressed down on the power button on my phone and left me with a blank screen staring back at me. I placed the phone face down on the bedside stool, laid on my bed, and draped the blanket over my body.
Two days later, I found myself sitting in the study in Kiera's house finalizing the details of the charity event.
"Kale can't make it to the event, he says he is sorry but something came up with his new project," Keira uttered without emotion scrolling through the images of the hall's decoration on her phone, all the while flipping through the vision pictures in the catalog I prepared.
"That's fine," I muttered under my breath still audible, going through the paintings Haziel sent me that he was willing to offer.
In addition to his high profile art, I made to decision to present on display different works from various art programs the organizations that receive our aid had created.
"What about Calvin? " I inquired staring up at Keira to catch her expression.
She glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. "What about him?"
"Will he be able to make it, even if Kale isn't around I wouldn't mind him being there," I explained.
Keira looked at me uninterested. "I'll tell Kale then," she replied nonchalant in her tone but with something else hidden in the slight frown on her lips.
After hours spent sifting through finalities and making adjustments, I left Keira's place tired.
At my abode, Jalen wasn't present. This time around he wasn't traveling and partying, he went to stay at his family's mansion.
Tomorrow, I would head to the Orphanage and have the little girl choose the leading art for the show.
I unlocked my phone and stared at the empty chat between Haziel and me. Battling between a combination of words I could write to him that could start up a conversation, one that would be a struggle to end.
Every sentence I wrote faced the scrutiny of my brain overthinking and my fingers rushing to delete. Stuck in the intense back-to-back, a thought flashed my mind amid others.
Was he ever this formal texting his sponsors?
That single thought brought my anxious mental symphony down to a sad, dead note.
Or did he come up with witty words to entertain them?
Did he text them good night?
And if he did, Was it out of genuine care or also a part of job formality?
Still pondering on this, I hadn't noticed when my hands had typed a keyboard smash and hit send.