“What are you doing?”
“We were havin’ a conversation, boy. What else?” Sylvester answers, his tone disgruntled and slightly defensive “Then why are you touching her?” he snaps, voice hard and unyielding.
My mouth pops open, ready to make peace, but Enzo’s eyes cut to me in warning. I tighten my lips and keep quiet for now. Mainly because Sylvester’s hand has only grown heavier on my shoulder, as if asserting dominance, and by the darkening look on Enzo's face, he's about to hike his leg.
“You got a problem with it? Don’t see yer name written anywhere on her,” Sylvester retorts.
“I won’t just write it, I’ll carve it. Take your hand off her, or I will do it for you.”
Abruptly, I stand, dislodging Sylvester’s grip and attracting both of their attention.
“Let’s not fight, okay? And while I appreciate both of your concerns, please don’t use me as a tool in your pissing contest.”
Sylvester opens his mouth, but I rush out of the room before he can get a word out.
I run. Because that’s what I do best.
I’m sitting on the bed reading through an old book about lighthouses when a knock rumbles against the door. Sylvester opens it and steps through a moment later, not even giving me time to let him know it’s okay to come in.
I sigh.
He has no concept of privacy except when it comes to his own. I could have been changing, though I only have a few spare t-shirts and one pair of shorts anyways. My bathing suit is my only source of undergarments, and I only take them off long enough to wash them before slipping them right back on.
“I owe ya an apology for earlier,” Sylvester says, appearing contrite.
It’s been a few hours since I escaped from the dick-measuring showdown, but I haven’t seen Enzo since.
The bastard probably went to my cave, and I’m fully prepared to fight him over it. I found that damn cave, so I reserve the right to control who has custody of it and when.
I shrug. “It’s cool. Testosterone gets the best of us,” I say mildly.
“Meh, well, I don’t think it gets the best of you, but I hear what yer saying. That boy doesn’t got no manners, and my pride got in the way there. I’m sorry if I made ya uncomfortable.”
“Sure. I think as long as everyone keeps their hands to themselves from now on, there shouldn’t be any more issues like that.”
His bottom lip juts out as he nods, and for a moment, he almost looks displeased by my answer. It seems as if he was expecting me to say his touching me didn’t make me uncomfortable, but well… it did.
And I may be a liar, but I’m not about to invite this old man to put his hands on me whenever he pleases.
I’ll go live with the fucking glowworms before that happens.
“That include yer friend, too?” he asks finally, keeping his stare pinned to the wooden floor.
I frown, my brow furrowing.
“What do you mean?”
Sylvester shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “I imagine any man would have a hard time keeping their hands to themselves when you look like ya do and are dressed how ya are. Can’t exactly blame ’em, can ya?”
I blink. “Sounds like you’re talking about little boys. A man wouldn’t touch a woman without their consent,” I volley back. “Plus, a bathing suit isn’t an invitation to be violated.”
Sure it is, pipsqueak. You're practically crying for fucking attention.
He chuckles deep in his throat, the rough sound lacking humor.
“It’s been a rough day. Bedtime is at seven PM tonight, ah’ight?”
“What? Why?”
He grumbles something, waddling his way over to the door.
“We’ll all start fresh tomorrow mornin’，” is all he says.
Just as he steps out, Enzo appears, his face immediately cast in suspicion. He’s shirtless, and it’s almost enough to distract me from the caretaker’s odd behavior.
Sylvester keeps silent and just waits for Enzo to enter the room, the pair watching each other closely.
“You two have a good night,” the old man calls before firmly closing the door behind him.
I stand, having no idea what the hell to say but prepared to say something, until I hear an audible click.
“Did you just lock us in here?” I shout, rushing to the door and jiggling the doorknob.
“Sleep tight,” he calls back, before hobbling down the hallway.
“The fuck? He seriously locked us in?” Enzo barks, pushing me aside to try the door handle for himself.