“You’re copying me,” he accuses with another giggle. His words are childlike in their innocence but his voice is so grown up. Deep and masculine. It doesn’t quite fit together.
“I guess I am.”
He pulls his legs in tighter as his eyes keep flitting up and down my body. If he had been a quote-unquote “normal” twenty-something, I might have been insulted by his brazen objectification. But in this case, I know he’s not checking me out. What he’s doing is sizing me up.
“I’m sorry I scared you earlier. I didn’t mean to.”
He frowns. “It’s not safe here.”
That feels like a bucket of ice water. Is he trying to warn me about Uri? Has he been hurt by Uri?
No. It can’t be. I’ve seen them together. Sure, I’ve watched from a distance, but body language is hard to deny. It’s hard to fake, too.
“What do you mean?” I ask, keeping my tone as calm as possible.
“The rat spray. It’s poisonous.” Again, I suppress a shiver of unease. What is he talking about? Is there something going on that I’m not aware of? He turns his nose up to the ceiling. “But… I can’t smell anything.”
“What are you trying to smell?”
“The rat spray. To get rid of the rats.”
“There are no rats here.”
He starts rocking back and forth again. It’s not as pronounced as the last time, but it’s an easy tell. Still, I have no idea what about my statement has upset him. “There are rats,” he insists in a harsh mumble. “Uri said.”
Ah.
“Oh! Of course. That’s right,” I say, slapping my palm against my forehead. “How could I forget? There were rats but Uri took care of them.”
The rocking slows and his eyes home in on me. They’re blue, too, but a different blue than Uri’s. Lighter, more subdued. “Why are you here?”
“Because—” If I’m reading him right, I deduce that Uri means a lot to him. The very idea of Uri lying to him nearly spun him into anxiety. “—I needed help. I needed a place to hide out for a bit and Uri told me I would be safe here.”
“It is safe here. Except for the rats.”
“Right. Except for the rats.”
“He didn’t tell me that you were down here.” His brow furrows. The rocking starts up again. “He didn’t tell me.”
“That’s my fault. I told him not to tell anyone. I was scared and I didn’t want anyone to know.”
He bites his bottom lip. “Oh.”
I look around the space, seeing it in a new light. “This place is amazing. I love it here. It’s really cool.”
The rocking stops and a slow smile spreads over his face. “Me, too.”
“Is that your video game collection in the corner?”
He nods. “Yeah.”
“Wow.”
His smile gets a little wider. “You wanna play?”
“I don’t know how. Will you teach me?”
He nods again, but not like an adult would nod. His head bobs up and down fiercely. Grinning, he launches himself up off the ground and I follow along. His size is even more obvious when he’s standing, but he stays hunched and cautious like he needs to be ready to flee at any moment.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” His cheeks go red. It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one who suffers from a blushing affliction.
“Lev.”
I smile. “Is that your name?”
“Yes.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“You’re very pretty.”
He says it as soft as a whisper, but I hear it clearly. I give him a warm smile. “Thank you, Lev. And thank you for letting me use your basement. I promise I’ll give it back as soon as I can, okay?”
He wrings his hands together and nods. Then he gestures for me to follow him and bounds over to his video games.
We play games into the wee hours of the morning.
We don’t exchange a single word the whole time, but strangely, I can feel him relaxing with each passing hour.
Once I’ve lost the twentieth game in a row to him, he puts his controller down. “You’re really bad at this.”
I laugh. “You’re right. I am really bad at this. But you know what I’m better at?”
“What?”
“French toast. Do you want some?”
His eyebrows pull together and he shakes his head. “Too soggy.”
“Ah. What would you like to eat then?”