The first morning of Liv's stay, rational and big brotherly Thomas met her at breakfast. He made himself and her strong, black coffee, ate an apple and told her he was fine and that she could go home now. This facade cracked up at lunch, when Liv cooked him spaghetti with meatballs, one of the few meals she mastered. In the end, he got most of the meatballs thrown at himself for refusing to touch them and attempting to head out and smoke instead. They did not speak a word for the rest of the day.
The second morning, a busy and annoyed Thomas awoke. All day and afternoon he sat occupied in work-calls, practically ignoring her, only to leave when night fell. When he returned it was late and he was drunk. Upon realizing she hadn't left, he glared at her bitterly.
"What's it gonna take, huh?"
At the moment she was lying down on the floor, on a face-time call with Wilma, but she quickly hung up and glared right back.
"When I start to recognize you I'll leave", she stated sternly.
"For real?", he snarled, "Did it ever occur to you that this is me, the real me? What you've seen before is just the PG13 version of me."
"You think I don't know you but I do, Tommy."
"Did you close the windows?", he sniffed slightly, ignoring her statement, "It still smells like fucking smoke here."
"It was cold. I think it's fine."
"It's not fine. If it gets cold you leave. Understand? You leave. You don't hang around here inhaling smoke all day, dammit."
At the end of the sentence his voice rose slightly in agitation.
"Well, the smoke is inherently your fault, and honestly you're being so ungrateful!", she snapped back, feeling particularly resentful for having been ignored all day.
"You can't be ungrateful when you never wanted any fucking help!"
The last words were shouted out in frustration and Liv's eyes widened and she sat up, backing away from him just slightly. Drunk as he was, he still caught the momentary sheen in her eyes and sunk down to the floor next to her.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I can't have this. This is why you need to leave, see? I can't have you scared of me, I really can't. Arvid would kill me..."
"Hey it's fine. I'm not... I wasn't scared."
Still, her voice was a little bit shaky.
"Jesus, I'm so sorry", he whispered again.
"It's fine."
"It's not. You shouldn't be around me when I'm like this."
"Oh come on. You raised your voice a little, you didn't backhand me."
Just the thought seemed to render him nauseous.
"You just... Please, you just have to know that I'd never... I'd never ever touch you Liv. I mean... not... I mean that's not ever something you need to be afraid of."
Saying that, he knew that it would be better if she had thought he might, because maybe then she'd find the good sense in herself to leave. Even so, the startled look she had given him had been too unbearable.
Blushing, she nodded.
"Of course I know that. Even drunk off your tits I know you wouldn't."
"You do?"
Instead of confirming verbally she scooted closer to him, let her shoulder rest against his. At first, his bunched up a little in surprise but eventually he relaxed.
"Would you tell me what's going on with you?"
The request made him smile ironically.
"You think I know?"
"If you told me what's going on inside your head, right now", she suggested softly.
"I'm thinking it's late and you should get some sleep."
"No, with you. What's going on with you? Try a little harder."
"Shame, I suppose. I'm know I'm too old to be doing this depressed teenage-routine, way to fucking old... but I just can't... I can't..."
Searching his eyes worriedly, she found he was somewhere else all of a sudden.
"You're grieving", she murmured.
"That's just the thing though. I'm not. I don't feel anything for him. I thought I'd be happy at least. I dreamed about this day when I was younger but now... There's nothing there. No relief, or grief for that matter."
"And that's what bothers you? The nothingness?"
That, he thought, and the somethingness - the somethingness being the opposite of nothingness he felt for her. More than ever now as she sat patiently next to him, asked him these questions, all too wise and mature and dedicated.
"I think so."