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Boots in a Flowerbed

 

 

 

 

16. Uneasy Dreams

It's very quiet, so quiet that Kim has trouble keeping his eyes open. No matter how he struggles, his lids are determined to slide closed as he lets his head sink against a carved headboard.

He stares out of the window, and it takes a few minutes before his foggy brain registers that it's full daylight outside. Day, not morning, possibly past noon already. Kim yawns and tries to scramble up, but long fingers tighten reflexively around his hand. He gives up, instead curls more comfortably on the bed and yawns again.

Kim can't help smiling as he reaches out to wipe a limp blonde tress away from Chaim's eyes, then pats sleepily the hand clutching his own. His fingers rub gently that large elegant hand. One knuckle is freshly bruised, and Kim frowns a little at it.

Gods, he's exhausted. He wonders how much time has passed since he came here to return those books, then remembers muzzily that it was indeed light outside and that he'd come towards the evening, so the night must've just gone somewhere. The night... or rather, a chaotic nightmare.

Kim is sure that he wouldn't have managed without Dalen, grimly determined and efficient Dalen who has known exactly what to do. The stuffy, disheveled room, countless bottles scattered everywhere, and a deathly pale, disheveled, frighteningly drunk and yet somehow still moderately functional Chaim - all that has made for a sight that has shocked Kim speechless, and he remembers Dalen simply sweeping in after him and taking charge.

It's all just a series of disconnected flashes now. Dalen has given Kim something with the command to make Chaim drink it. That something has made Chaim so violently sick that Kim has really thought he'd throw up all his insides as well. He remembers walking in a daze around the room, picking up a few bottles in blind fury and marching to the bathroom - then Dalen snatching the bottles from him and informing him that he's just literally poured down the drain a sum equivalent to his three days' wages from the Park Service.

He remembers alternately coaxing and cursing an incoherent Chaim who has refused to believe that Kim is really truly there, that this is not just another lifelike hallucination concocted by his alcohol saturated brain. And Chaim has refused to let go of his hand. Even when faced with Dalen and Tim declaring their intention of stripping the man of his once-stylish clothes and bathing him, Chaim has held on. It's a miracle, and one that Kim is profoundly grateful for, that he didn't in the end need to go and sit by the bathtub.

Kim is so tired that the world is spinning, but sleep is slow to come. He slits an eye open and looks at Chaim. He doesn't like that pallor, but Dalen has been reassuring and Kim trusts the valet. Dalen's been stewed in many juices, he knows when to worry, and if Dalen says there's no need to call the doctor, that's how it is. And when they have finally tucked Chaim to bed and calmed him down, sometime around dawn probably, Dalen has sighed deep and told Kim to relax and get some rest as well.

The things Chaim has said before drifting off, they won't leave Kim alone. He's not sure whether he might not, after all, have imagined them - they're things nobody would say anyway. But then he's not at all sure that his imagination could come up with anything like that on its own. So it just could've been real. And Chaim has sure had such an awful lot to say. Too bad he wasn't too lucid or coherent by that point, so it's all a real mess in Kim's exhausted mind.

He's heard only a fraction of what Toni had said, that much he's sure of. He's happy for it, too; if he'd been to hear it all, he might've never come back, books or no books. And Chaim has tried so hard to explain so many things, important things.

That Toni hasn't always been what he's now; that he's once been just another rich boy suddenly left alone to cope with his golden burden. That Chaim will do anything if only Kim forgives him - forgives him what, Kim has wondered, then realized that he's not quite sure himself why he's been so angry with Chaim in the first place. And then -

"Don't listen to Toni, please - he's so full of shit, and it makes me so sad to think of it. He was so different then... I'm not asking for anything from you Kim, nothing at all. Just - please don't leave me alone. I just want to be with you every now and then... you make me forget that life's just a sad duty. Everything's different with you. Just be my friend, let me be with you sometimes. Please, Kim. Don't leave me."

Kim sighs slowly. No, he couldn't have imagined all that, it's simply too ludicrous and pathetic and too heartbreakingly honest. He inhales the soft lavender scent of the pillows and quilt. They are so incredibly soft, finest down inside them. Chaim makes a small sound, his hand clenches again and then relaxes some more.

Kim knows vaguely that he should be somewhere else, and that he's probably forgotten completely about half a dozen important things. Right now, though, he just wants to sleep.

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