The warmth of his master's house enveloped him as he stepped through the walkway. As always, Cassius had kept the heat blasting during the cold winter months. He took off his jacket and felt the day's pressure disappear with it. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, and it was as if the prior events had never happened.
Before him, a large, expensive-looking painting hung on the wall, its warm fall colors of reds, oranges and yellows set a peaceful mood as soon as one laid an eye on it. There was a gold-colored picture frame with Cassius and a man he had never seen before, smiling with an arm wrapped around each other. A tall, grey brick building stood towering behind them. A tiny, round bowl lay in front of the picture with his master's keys already inside. As the days went by, he had realized it was the small things that made a place home.
"You look like hell," a soft, familiar voice called from the doorway.
Cassius stood rubbing his eyes, blonde hair in disarray and his lean frame wrapped in a white robe. He had tried to wait up for him.
"Lucky said the same thing," Keon replied. He took his hoodie off and scrunched his nose as it got stuck over his head coming off.
It was quiet for a moment as Cassius stared at him, eyes boring into Keon's own.
"You're late," he said. His eyes darted to the clock on the wall. He could hear the tick of the hands as the clock continued forward.
"Yeah, I know."
"It's dangerous after dark."
"Thanks for the warning, mom."
He frowned at Keon's words.
"I was worried." Cassius had bridged the gap between them and flicked his nose.
"Ok, I get it already." His tone faked annoyance, but it was the opposite. He still wasn't used to anyone caring about his wellbeing.
Keon could feel his master's eyes linger. He hid his hands from view, the pain in his palm suddenly pulsing.
Cassius narrowed his eyes, lips parting as if he was about to comment.
"It's not a big deal," he replied. "Anyway--"
A distraction, that's what Keon needed. He didn't want to think about what he witnessed earlier. The crimson that would inevitably paint the wall with that clone's blood was an image he wanted to forget. The human towering over him sent waves of anxiety through him.
It was then he noticed his puff ball of a dog was nowhere in sight.
"You need to be more careful," said Cassius.
Keon ignored him. The conversation would be never ending, and he was way too tired to argue.
"Hey, where's Pom?" he said instead.
As if on cue, a tan, five-pound pup came trotting around the corner. His little paws scraping against the wood floor. Keon could hear Cassius sigh. A lecture happily averted.
Keon picked Pom up and held him in his arms, petting him and his mountain of fur.
He found him in a trash can not long after he moved to the city. He snuck him in and hid him in his room for a week until Cassius found him. His master said nothing, but Keon found a dog bowl and food in his room the next day.
Although they were worried when he had never heard him bark, they found out the past owners had damaged his vocal cords beyond repair. The world was a cruel place, animals not saved from its atrocities.
Ignoring the funny look from his master, Keon trekked over to the couch and plopped down. He put Pom down in his lap and watched him curl up into a ball. Resting must be what Keon's body needed, though, as all the pain and stress from earlier dissipated and only a faint numbness remained.
The couch dipped down next to him. A blanket found its way across his lap.
Keon could feel his eyes gradually closing. Silence settled in between them, but it was a comfortable one.
For a master and its clone, they had a weird relationship. Each did his own thing and didn't get involved too much in the other's daily life. What they had was a good balance. Walking around each other without stepping on too many toes.
It scared Keon that he would one day tip the scale.
Although, in the long run, it most likely didn't matter. Cassius was going to live a lot longer life than Keon. Clones were born with genetic defects, a lowered immune system and so many other health problems. They were more susceptible to disease, had underdeveloped organs and so much more it made his head spin.
Science had come far, and a lot of those problems had decreased, but a clone's life expectancy was still low.
Keon had little time left. He knew that.
The clock had been ticking since the day he was born, but the hands have gotten louder since he met Cassius.