Fixing Nico [boyxboy / yaoi]

Ch 23 - Endings, Goodbyes, Beginnings, Hellos

~NICO~

Everyone was wearing black that day.

My skin was sallow, white, dead-looking as I glared back at myself in the cold mirror hanging on the bathroom wall. The bathtub reeked of Dettol and bleach, the putrid, chemical stench drifting across the tiles, rising up from the immaculately white basin. The water in the bathtub was full, warm, soapy, but all I could smell were the chemicals. I'd told my Mum I didn't want to go in - instead, I bent over the basin of the sink, cupping my hands under the stream of water, running like an icy ribbon, and immersed my face in a handful of glacial water. 

My skinny shoulder wracked, shivering violently. Cupping my shivering, blue fingers, I repeated the ritual. Over and over again, whimpering slightly into the chilly, white-porcelain bowl as the bitter-cold water chilled me to the bone.

I was trembling from the cold, noticing the slightly bluish-purple tinge that'd spread across my quivering fingertips. I was cold, but at least I was something. Being cold was better than being nothing at all.

I snatched the towel from the rack and buried my shivering face in it, drying the dripping droplets of ice with the fluffy material that smelled pleasantly of clean, dry laundry and washing powder. It seemed that, ever since I'd return from that creaking, uncomfortable hospital bed two weeks ago, everything reeked of cleaning products - both the genial scents and downright vile stenches. 

It seemed I'd driven Sophie to the edge of insanity… either that or she was taking her anger out on the Ajax Spray and Wipe.

'Nico?' a muffled voice, tinged slightly with concern and careful fear, called from somewhere downstairs. The voice hesitated slightly, as I reminisced the newfound fear Sophie seemed to have adopted when she was in my presence… she always made sure never to offend me, always crept by me without ruffling any feathers, without bringing up any unwanted memories or feelings - or any feeling at all, for that matter. She treated me like one of her antique diamond vases. I was too fragile to take out of the cupboard, too fragile to put on display and boast about to friends. I was to be kept perpetually in the cupboard under the sink - otherwise, she was sure I'd shatter.

'Yeah, Mum?' I called back warily, abandoning my position in front of the mirror to trample down the stairs towards the faint sound of my mother's voice. 'What is it?'

'Oh, it's just… I mean…' Sophie's voice trembled as I found myself in the kitchen, dragging my feet, encased in fuzzy, black socks, across the carpet. She was hunched over the kitchen sink, the chunky, green cleaning gloves she had over her folded hands contrasting greatly in comparison to the graceful, black, gauzy dress and glimmering, black beaded cardigan she wore. Her slick, dark hair was rolled into a graceful bun at the nape of her neck, and the slightest hint of makeup was dusted across her eyelids, making her pitch-black pools stand out.

'Yeah?' I pressed gently, tugging at my own outfit. I was wearing a pair of fitted, black suit-pants, a button-down shirt tucked into the belted trousers. A long, sombre black tie wrapped around my tiny, pale neck. When Sophie looked up, she shot me a watery smile with full eyes.

'You look handsome,' she laughed, her tone painfully light. Only the slightest break in tone gave her away. 'Although - honestly, I wish you'd just brush your hair! Or get it out of your eyes… here - let me fix it for you…'

Sophie yanked her old, green gloves off and surged forwards to run her fingers through my knotted, shaggy mop - I stiffened slightly, but made no attempt to escape the onslaught. I wasn't that selfish - she needed this.

Sophie combed through my mass of black hair gently with her warm fingers, grunting slightly as she approached a knot. Cringing, I waiting patiently until she finally finished - 'There,' she announced with a slight sniffle, 'you're a vision!'