Chapter 25 - Blank stare

I sat on the couch staring as steam rose from a white mug with a funny cow wearing a hat. Demos had insisted that I eat but I wasn't sure I could. I contacted Sognare and told them about the incident, Demos attached a detailed status of Grant's condition. Then he went downstairs to talk to Jil leaving me alone in the silent apartment. He was reluctant to do so, for apparent reasons. There was no door to protect me; Grant lay asleep in his pod, and me acting weird from shock. Those past forty-eight hours have been an emotional rollercoaster I wasn't sure I was actually off the hook. I had that strange sense of lethargy glued to my skin, it sunk down my throat like staring at a surrealist image—not sure if I was awake or still sleeping.

I pulled on the blanket Demos gave me. It didn't stop the shivers, my eyes roamed back to the entrance. The blood smudged over the white tiles was slowly drying. Small splinters from the door littered the floor. It will take time to erase the memory of what happened here. Demos' sudden arrival made my heart leaped into a chaotic frenzy.

"Jil said she's sending someone over for the door. I've talked to the inspector down the hall. There will be a patrol in the area for routine checks," he wiped an invisible sweat off then turned back to me. "You should drink your tea, it will get cold, and—" he looked around the apartment. "Tsk! Not having Grant around is like missing half of my brain—" he stared at the mess in the entrance. I looked up at him with a perplex expression.

"What?" I asked, he chuckled and scratched his head.

"I don't know if I can really use the right words to explain it. When Grant is around we communicate back and forth like when you're thinking and having a conversation in your head," he gave a quick peek at the pod. "When he is not there—it feels kind of empty," his smile was full of sadness. My gaze followed him as he walked to the kitchen. It broke my heart as he struggled with the cupboard in search of the right tools to clean the floor. I got to my feet and joined him, Demos was picking up the spoons he had previously scattered over the floor when he was searching for duct tape.

"Let me help you," I opened the last cupboard and got out a compact vacuum cleaner along with a detergent bottle. He nodded at me with a tight smile.

"Give me that," he reached his hand but I stepped away holding the items against my chest.

"I can at least clean my own apartment, thank you. I'm not some Princess made of glass," he rose an eyebrow at me. I walked away then paused and took a glance at him. Demos was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Liliane?" he sighed with clear irritation. I moved away to the entrance splashed detergent over the stains, not sure, if it was too much or too little. The bottle hasn't been used in a while. I'm not the perfect housekeeper as far as I could remember. With the device plugged in, I pressed the nozzle on the floor as it silently slurped in all the debris. I struggled with the handle making too much effort to be effective. In minutes I was sweating, with the brush option it scrubbed the bloodstain away. When I reached the fingers, my tears welled up. Demos appeared behind me startling me.

"Liliane," he called pulling the device from me. I glared at him while catching my breath.

"What?" I snapped. He eyed me with calm.

"You're trying to deal with the shock. However, this is not the way. The more you ignore it the worst it will get," he pressed the off button and set it against the wall next to the damaged door.

"So what do you want me to do? Sing? Dance? Do laugh therapy?" I threw my arms in the air. He tilted his head to the side.

"Can you even sing?" his tone sarcastic. It hit a nerve. I turned away with my hands on my h.i.p.s.

"That's not the point—" he pulled me around by the arm forcing me to face him.

"You need to calm down and talk about it," I looked up searching his copper eyes gazing at me. He wrapped his arms around me, surprising me. "I was so scared when I ran to the apartment. I felt Grant's pain like I was experiencing it within my own. I'm sorry, I wasn't there on time to save both of you," I buried my face in his stained t-shirt, it had a weird smell. My trembling hands squeezed around his back. His back was too large for my small hands to go around but I held on.

"Why did this happen?" my tears stung my eyes. "Why?" I shouted as sobs shook my whole body. He stroked my back, it wasn't the same as when Grant did it. The pain didn't disappear. The helplessness grip my stomach.

"I'm sorry, I don't have an answer to your question," he tilted my face up to look at him. "Know that I'm here for you—I'll listen," he dropped a soft kiss on my forehead then brushed his lips against my cheek. I stood on tiptoe pulling myself to reach his lips. Demos dug his fingers in my hair and responded with a passionate kiss. I clung to him desperate to connect, scared to let go.

"Liliane," he whispered against my trembling lips. My eyes flipped open, mouth hungry for more. "I'm grateful you're safe," he chuckled. He cupped my face with his large hands, closed his eyes and sighed.

"There's only half of me—kissing you. With only half and without syncing it feels wrong," he pressed his forehead against mine. I bit my lips out of guilt. Grant happy face flashed in my mind.

"I'm sorry—I'm so scared. I'm scared to connect with others. I'm scared you'll both disappear and leave me behind," my voice quivered. "I just can't—I can't relive that lost again. I won't be able to take it one more time," I let out a shaky breath. He pulled me closer and kissed my cheek.

"Then we'll just have to show you that we aren't planning to run away," he rocked me against his chest. His warmth dr.a.p.ed around me. The safety of solid arms. We stayed in the same position for a while, clinging to each other desperate to find a way to fit together to be complete again. My bracelet chimed snapping me from our moment. He let go so I got to check the new message. I immediately felt the darkness trying to seep through the cracks.

"It's Sognare!" I looked up at him in alarm. "They are sending a team to retrieve Grant tomorrow morning," I pressed my hand over my mouth. He brushed his thumb over the creases on my forehead.

"It's ok, don't worry about it. Grant will be fine," I didn't understand how he could be so calm and confident.

"What about the bills," my voice went a pitch higher. A slow smile appeared on his lips.

"Do not worry about the bills. Rely on me. I told you, I'll show you that I'm—we, are NOT going to run away," I wanted to believe him. However, I've been wounded too many damn time and I just can't shove that nagging voice in the back of my mind telling me, this thing was a complete scam. A light knock pulled us from our conversation.

"Sorry, to disturb. I'm here for the door," said the cyborg wearing an orange overall holding a metal box. Demos turned to him and nodded. He then turned his focus back at me.

"You should go take a hot shower, ok," I didn't want to argue and didn't have the energy to do so.

"Ok," I agreed and gave a quick gaze at the cyborg then went to my room. Somehow, I was calm. Demos was able to grab me from the darkness. It will take time for me to trust his words.