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The dark blue sky was buried behind a gathering of trees, as the cold rain continued to patter across the roof, and slunk down the sides of the slightly smeared windows without a stop to breathe. The cold was forbidden within the heavy heat of the chained fireplace, which slightly smoked the downstairs in humidity. Lukas’s crimson red sweater clashed against the indigo couch. His back was sunken into the fuzz, as his hands gripped the seat. The crimson coat that draped upon him started to build up sweat. Lukas’s sky blue eyes watched the flickering of the flames that crinkled against the coal, but as his vision began to blur, the tears already swelled up to the surface, he instinctively squeezed his eyes shut. Although he was used to sucking in his tears, he was not used to the wool against the fuzzy couch.
This was not normal. The crinkling of the fire was interrupted by a clank of a mug, the bottom hitting against the small wooden table that aligned at Lukas’s knees. The mug looked like it had been molded by unprofessional hands, as bumps and unproportional sides stuck out, painted over with a mauve purple color. Lukas already had an untouched cup of lavender tea sitting idly beside the new mug. He peered upwards to see Mr. Dane slowly inch away from placing the mug on the table. “You did not seem to be too enthralled with the tea,” Mr. Dane mentioned, as his hand motioned to the untouched cup. “I thought you may have wanted to try something else.” He slightly chuckled to himself as twisted his fingers in his hands. He only stood for a moment more, until he slowly walked around the table, and sat at the other end of the couch. The tension that they shared was thicker than the smoke. Lukas folded himself over as he peered inside the mug. The gleam of the crackling fire was the only source of light within the dark room, but it was the shadow of himself that darkened the liquid. It looked like pure black coffee, and he could feel the bitterness stain his teeth before he could even take a sip. Even so, he wriggled his hands out of the long sweater that engulfed him, slowly slid his right hand between the space from the cup and the handle, and lightly pressed his left hand on the opposite side to give the cup some balance. He stared into the pit before he willingly took a small sip. He quickly removed his mouth from the rim, as he clenched his eyes shut and wrinkled up his lip, waiting for the bitterness to strike. However, he suddenly opened his puzzled eyes, and raised his eyebrows in surprise. It was, in fact, not bitter. It was actually… |
ISABEL PAYNE won 1st Place of the Fiction Writing Contest. She is an online university student through Indiana University Online, who is currently majoring in English. She mainly writes stories that revolve around the themes of found family and mental health. She has been writing stories since she was a child, and she hopes to continue to write more stories as she delves deeper into her career as a writer.
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“Excuse me?” Lukas whispered towards Mr. Dane. Lukas was so quiet that the fire could have consumed his words, but Mr. Dane peered up with intent, as if he had been waiting for Lukas to say something, anything. “I … I thought this was coffee, but I do not believe it is?”
“Oh, no it is not coffee.” Mr. Dane slowly responded. “Would you like coffee instead? You just seem a little young to drink coffee?”
Lukas’s eyes opened wide. He felt his bones clench up and the sweater wrap around him tightly.
“No!” Lukas slightly shouted, as he jolted up from his hunched over space. He raised his left hand out towards Mr. Dane, as if he was trying to reach out to him. They were only a few feet apart, but the distance between them felt far and wide.
Mr. Dane slightly jolted backwards, as if Lukas was a force. He had barely heard a word out of this kid, let alone, a yell.
Lukas immediately scrunched up his hand, and recoiled his arm back to his side. His teeth clenched his lip, as his eyes scattered amongst the dim room. He lowered his back into the indent of the couch he had made his own, as he cuffed the warm cup in his dry hands. He peered into the ash brown that slightly rippled of tiny bubbles.
“Well, … I was just wondering,” he muttered, as he watched the bubbles fizzle. “What is this drink?”
Mr. Dane flickered his eyes in disbelief before answering:
“Well…it is hot chocolate,” he calmly answered. “Have you ever had hot chocolate before?”
Lukas’s hands felt around the curves and the bumps of the misshapen mug. It was never meant to be edged and chipped away to any other piece; it was supposed to be unique, and it was supposed to be this way. He looked back down into the slightly fizzy liquid, as it swirled out puffs of steam away from its contained heat in order to free itself from the caved in shell and stew of chocolate.
“I guess I have not. It tastes …” Lukas trailed off, his mind empty of the words he should say.
Mr. Dane tried to fill in the blanks.
“Delicious? Creamy? Scrumptious?” He listed off some words, yet he still looked to the timid boy who eyed his drink.
“I was thinking ‘sweet,’ actually,” Lukas whispered, “but, I like your use of vocabulary.”
“Well, I do try my best,” Mr. Dane chuckled awkwardly to himself as Lukas slightly peered over to him, his grin now a little wider. “Thank you.”
Lukas nodded as he cuffed his lips to the rim, lightly inhaled the chocolate milk, and licked away the stain of fluffy cream upon his lips.
“Do you like it? I was not sure what you wanted…” Mr. Dane dawdled, as he looked over to the fire of the dancing flames. They flickered in and out in spurts. “Hot chocolate always gave me comfort.”
He looked back to Lukas, who was trying to lick away the stickiness of the cream. In his attempts, he looked back over to Mr. Dane.
“Comfort? You seem rather comfortable already,” Lukas started to quip. “Since when do you need to find comfort?”
Lukas noticed Mr. Dane’s eyes shift to the side.
“…Sorry,” Lukas muttered, as he looked back down into the muddy beverage, and slightly scrunched up his arms. “That was a little rude of me.”
“I know that you meant no harm,” Mr. Dane interjected. “I appreciate your consideration.”
Lukas slightly relaxed his body, as his arms fell to the sides of the thick sweater, his clenched eyes and forehead unraveled of thin skin, and he wearily looked to Mr. Dane.
Mr. Dane looked towards Lukas with a smile on his face, while he slightly bit the inside of his lip.
They were silent as they stared at each other. They were waiting for each other to say something; anything.
As Lukas continued to eye him down, he felt the stickiness of the cream sink into his skin due to the heat that swarmed his body. Instinctively, Lukas lightly dabbed away at the cream with the sleeve of his sweater.
“Oh,” Mr. Dane exclaimed, which caused Lukas to stiffen up in his seat. “I did not even think to get you a napkin!”
Mr. Dane hoisted himself from his spot and swiftly walked towards the kitchen, which just so happened to be right behind where they were sitting.
Lukas immediately eyed the now stained sweater sleeve, and quickly yanked it away from his face.
“I am so sorry, I didn't mean to-“
“There is no need for you to apologize, Lukas; it was only an accident.”
Mr. Dane rummaged through the cabinets, as if they were living in a brand new house. However, Lukas was the only one who was new.
“Besides, I have had that sweater for almost twenty years now,” he mentioned, as he slightly swung the cabinet drawers against their walls. “Perhaps I should have gotten rid of it by now?”
Lukas watched as Mr. Dane made his way back into the dim living room, as he lightly placed the pile of scratchy patches of napkins upon the table, scooped up Lukas’s untouched tea, and sat himself back into his spot between their respective spaces. The tea was surely cold, but Lukas did not utter a word in protest.
There were many napkins that sat in front of him, more than needed, but it was better than none at all. Lukas slowly placed the mug onto the table, lightly plucked from the stack and dabbed at his face.
“Twenty years, huh?” Lukas questioned, as he folded up the napkin and placed it next to the mug. He looked down at the sweater he was wearing. For twenty years, it looked untouched and well-kept, almost brand new. “Why have you had this for twenty years?”
Mr. Dane peered upwards, which caused the tea to slightly slosh around in its saucer. Mr. Dane sat there for a moment until he decided to put the cold tea back onto the table, which caused it to slightly drip onto the tiny platter it sat upon.
“The sweater…” he dawdled again, as he pressed his hands onto his knees. “The sweater was a gift I heavily cherished from someone who cared about me ... I guess I just never wanted to forget that.”
Mr. Dane looked to the soft carpet, as his hands clenched tighter onto his dress pants, which caused them to wrinkle from the mere touch of skin.
Lukas was not sure what to say with so much left unanswered, but he slightly nodded and shrugged, as he picked back up his cup of hot chocolate.
“You know, I think I have spoken enough about me,” Mr. Dane awkwardly chuckled again. “Do you want to tell me something about you, Lukas?”
Lukas slightly jolted up, as he almost yanked the nearly still scolding pottery away from his pale face. Lukas’s pupils scattered across the dim room. The maroon red sweater began to cuff at his scaly hands and scrawny neck, as the smoke started to sweep into his glazed over eyes.
“Lukas,” Mr. Dane asked, as he slowly sat up straight. “Are you alright?”
Lukas jittered, as the warm and bumpy pottery started to shake within his cuffed hands. He needed to breathe, but he could not find any air.
“What…” he merely croaked out, as sweat started to bead down his face. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, right now I want to know if you are okay?” Mr. Dane implied rather than asked, as he started to scoot towards Lukas.
Lukas slowly raised the cup back up to his lips, but his mouth kept missing the rim as he could not hold the cup still. He could barely feel the liquid enter his mouth, but he was determined to consume every drop within the cup.
“Lukas, can you look at me, please?” Mr. Dane asked, as he scooted a little closer.
As the cup rattled within Lukas’s hand, some of the liquid sloshed out and around the rim. However, neither of them noticed the light brown milk that dripped to the floor.
“Lukas-” Mr. Dane whispered, as he lifted his hands from his knees.
Lukas squinted his eyes shut, as he waited for the tears to come gushing out.
“Lukas, would you please talk to me-“
The strong grip of Lukas’s hand could have easily broken the mug into shards.
“Luk-“
Mr. Dane’s hand merely grazed Lukas’s thin hand.
“ENOUGH!” Lukas screamed, as he raised himself from the indented couch.
As he raised up his arms, his once strong grasp of the handle slipped between his fingers. Mr. Dane watched as the liquid splattered, as the cup began to fall back towards them. Due to the slick liquid streaks upon the pottery, Mr. Dane fumbled to catch the cup, as it fell side first onto the table, causing some of the bumps of the mug to chip off. The hot chocolate slightly splattered upon them, staining the hand-me-down sweater and Mr. Dane’s nice dress suit. The rest landed upon the floor, which created a noticeable stain. It would take more than one cleaning to get rid of the stain, and there would always be a faded spot with the smell of smokey hot chocolate coming from the carpet.
The two stood, motionless, almost breathless. Lukas eyes darted around the room; the ceiling had small yet noticeable splatter marks, the table was possibly chipped, and he was standing in a puddle of his own mess.
Mr. Dane swiftly turned himself around to Lukas. He looked beyond frazzled, as his hands lightly fidgeted and his mouth gaped open.
“Are you okay?” Mr. Dane exclaimed, as he reached for Lukas’s arm, but immediately stopped himself, and recoiled it back to his side. “Are you burned anywhere?”
Lukas’s eyes widened, as he just stared at Mr. Dane. He slowly unclenched his curled-up fingers.
“I-no,” Lukas admitted. “No, I am not burned. I am okay.”
“Are you sure?” Mr. Dane genuinely questioned as he narrowed his eyes upon the fragile kid.
“Yes,” Lukas vigorously nodded, “I said I was okay.”
“I know what you said,” Mr. Dane reassured Lukas, as he started to tear off his work jacket that was sprinkled with stains, which revealed a white blouse from underneath.
“Lukas, I am sure that this is all very strange to you, and you are probably very uncomfortable about all of this,” Mr. Dane started, as he looked down at the stained carpet, in which Lukas stood in the dead center of. “I just want to help you feel better.”
Lukas clenched his eyes shut, as he tugged at the stained sweater and whispered, “It is too late for that.”
“What is ‘too late’ Lukas?” Mr. Dane asked, as he cuffed his hands.“Nothing is too late.”
“It is too late for me to get better!” Lukas yelled, as he stretched and yanked at the sweater sleeves even tighter. The hot tears began to flow down his face, as they stung his nose and cracked his dry skin. He tried to clench his eyes shut to stop the flow, but the burning tears would not stop. He clamped down on the sleeves, yanked the wool over his head, and let the stained sweater meet the stained carpet.
“Is this what you wanted to see?”
Bruises patched themselves across his legs, unhealed scrapes were slashed across his chest, and burned splotches peeled at parts of his pale skin.
Time felt so slow, almost nonexistent. It felt like everything was over, yet they had barely begun.
Mr. Dane simply got down on his knees to get to the level of the boy. He wished he could hug him tightly enough so that all of his ravaging anger, and all of his tearful fears would vanish. Instead, he started to unbutton his blouse.
“Oh, no it is not coffee.” Mr. Dane slowly responded. “Would you like coffee instead? You just seem a little young to drink coffee?”
Lukas’s eyes opened wide. He felt his bones clench up and the sweater wrap around him tightly.
“No!” Lukas slightly shouted, as he jolted up from his hunched over space. He raised his left hand out towards Mr. Dane, as if he was trying to reach out to him. They were only a few feet apart, but the distance between them felt far and wide.
Mr. Dane slightly jolted backwards, as if Lukas was a force. He had barely heard a word out of this kid, let alone, a yell.
Lukas immediately scrunched up his hand, and recoiled his arm back to his side. His teeth clenched his lip, as his eyes scattered amongst the dim room. He lowered his back into the indent of the couch he had made his own, as he cuffed the warm cup in his dry hands. He peered into the ash brown that slightly rippled of tiny bubbles.
“Well, … I was just wondering,” he muttered, as he watched the bubbles fizzle. “What is this drink?”
Mr. Dane flickered his eyes in disbelief before answering:
“Well…it is hot chocolate,” he calmly answered. “Have you ever had hot chocolate before?”
Lukas’s hands felt around the curves and the bumps of the misshapen mug. It was never meant to be edged and chipped away to any other piece; it was supposed to be unique, and it was supposed to be this way. He looked back down into the slightly fizzy liquid, as it swirled out puffs of steam away from its contained heat in order to free itself from the caved in shell and stew of chocolate.
“I guess I have not. It tastes …” Lukas trailed off, his mind empty of the words he should say.
Mr. Dane tried to fill in the blanks.
“Delicious? Creamy? Scrumptious?” He listed off some words, yet he still looked to the timid boy who eyed his drink.
“I was thinking ‘sweet,’ actually,” Lukas whispered, “but, I like your use of vocabulary.”
“Well, I do try my best,” Mr. Dane chuckled awkwardly to himself as Lukas slightly peered over to him, his grin now a little wider. “Thank you.”
Lukas nodded as he cuffed his lips to the rim, lightly inhaled the chocolate milk, and licked away the stain of fluffy cream upon his lips.
“Do you like it? I was not sure what you wanted…” Mr. Dane dawdled, as he looked over to the fire of the dancing flames. They flickered in and out in spurts. “Hot chocolate always gave me comfort.”
He looked back to Lukas, who was trying to lick away the stickiness of the cream. In his attempts, he looked back over to Mr. Dane.
“Comfort? You seem rather comfortable already,” Lukas started to quip. “Since when do you need to find comfort?”
Lukas noticed Mr. Dane’s eyes shift to the side.
“…Sorry,” Lukas muttered, as he looked back down into the muddy beverage, and slightly scrunched up his arms. “That was a little rude of me.”
“I know that you meant no harm,” Mr. Dane interjected. “I appreciate your consideration.”
Lukas slightly relaxed his body, as his arms fell to the sides of the thick sweater, his clenched eyes and forehead unraveled of thin skin, and he wearily looked to Mr. Dane.
Mr. Dane looked towards Lukas with a smile on his face, while he slightly bit the inside of his lip.
They were silent as they stared at each other. They were waiting for each other to say something; anything.
As Lukas continued to eye him down, he felt the stickiness of the cream sink into his skin due to the heat that swarmed his body. Instinctively, Lukas lightly dabbed away at the cream with the sleeve of his sweater.
“Oh,” Mr. Dane exclaimed, which caused Lukas to stiffen up in his seat. “I did not even think to get you a napkin!”
Mr. Dane hoisted himself from his spot and swiftly walked towards the kitchen, which just so happened to be right behind where they were sitting.
Lukas immediately eyed the now stained sweater sleeve, and quickly yanked it away from his face.
“I am so sorry, I didn't mean to-“
“There is no need for you to apologize, Lukas; it was only an accident.”
Mr. Dane rummaged through the cabinets, as if they were living in a brand new house. However, Lukas was the only one who was new.
“Besides, I have had that sweater for almost twenty years now,” he mentioned, as he slightly swung the cabinet drawers against their walls. “Perhaps I should have gotten rid of it by now?”
Lukas watched as Mr. Dane made his way back into the dim living room, as he lightly placed the pile of scratchy patches of napkins upon the table, scooped up Lukas’s untouched tea, and sat himself back into his spot between their respective spaces. The tea was surely cold, but Lukas did not utter a word in protest.
There were many napkins that sat in front of him, more than needed, but it was better than none at all. Lukas slowly placed the mug onto the table, lightly plucked from the stack and dabbed at his face.
“Twenty years, huh?” Lukas questioned, as he folded up the napkin and placed it next to the mug. He looked down at the sweater he was wearing. For twenty years, it looked untouched and well-kept, almost brand new. “Why have you had this for twenty years?”
Mr. Dane peered upwards, which caused the tea to slightly slosh around in its saucer. Mr. Dane sat there for a moment until he decided to put the cold tea back onto the table, which caused it to slightly drip onto the tiny platter it sat upon.
“The sweater…” he dawdled again, as he pressed his hands onto his knees. “The sweater was a gift I heavily cherished from someone who cared about me ... I guess I just never wanted to forget that.”
Mr. Dane looked to the soft carpet, as his hands clenched tighter onto his dress pants, which caused them to wrinkle from the mere touch of skin.
Lukas was not sure what to say with so much left unanswered, but he slightly nodded and shrugged, as he picked back up his cup of hot chocolate.
“You know, I think I have spoken enough about me,” Mr. Dane awkwardly chuckled again. “Do you want to tell me something about you, Lukas?”
Lukas slightly jolted up, as he almost yanked the nearly still scolding pottery away from his pale face. Lukas’s pupils scattered across the dim room. The maroon red sweater began to cuff at his scaly hands and scrawny neck, as the smoke started to sweep into his glazed over eyes.
“Lukas,” Mr. Dane asked, as he slowly sat up straight. “Are you alright?”
Lukas jittered, as the warm and bumpy pottery started to shake within his cuffed hands. He needed to breathe, but he could not find any air.
“What…” he merely croaked out, as sweat started to bead down his face. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, right now I want to know if you are okay?” Mr. Dane implied rather than asked, as he started to scoot towards Lukas.
Lukas slowly raised the cup back up to his lips, but his mouth kept missing the rim as he could not hold the cup still. He could barely feel the liquid enter his mouth, but he was determined to consume every drop within the cup.
“Lukas, can you look at me, please?” Mr. Dane asked, as he scooted a little closer.
As the cup rattled within Lukas’s hand, some of the liquid sloshed out and around the rim. However, neither of them noticed the light brown milk that dripped to the floor.
“Lukas-” Mr. Dane whispered, as he lifted his hands from his knees.
Lukas squinted his eyes shut, as he waited for the tears to come gushing out.
“Lukas, would you please talk to me-“
The strong grip of Lukas’s hand could have easily broken the mug into shards.
“Luk-“
Mr. Dane’s hand merely grazed Lukas’s thin hand.
“ENOUGH!” Lukas screamed, as he raised himself from the indented couch.
As he raised up his arms, his once strong grasp of the handle slipped between his fingers. Mr. Dane watched as the liquid splattered, as the cup began to fall back towards them. Due to the slick liquid streaks upon the pottery, Mr. Dane fumbled to catch the cup, as it fell side first onto the table, causing some of the bumps of the mug to chip off. The hot chocolate slightly splattered upon them, staining the hand-me-down sweater and Mr. Dane’s nice dress suit. The rest landed upon the floor, which created a noticeable stain. It would take more than one cleaning to get rid of the stain, and there would always be a faded spot with the smell of smokey hot chocolate coming from the carpet.
The two stood, motionless, almost breathless. Lukas eyes darted around the room; the ceiling had small yet noticeable splatter marks, the table was possibly chipped, and he was standing in a puddle of his own mess.
Mr. Dane swiftly turned himself around to Lukas. He looked beyond frazzled, as his hands lightly fidgeted and his mouth gaped open.
“Are you okay?” Mr. Dane exclaimed, as he reached for Lukas’s arm, but immediately stopped himself, and recoiled it back to his side. “Are you burned anywhere?”
Lukas’s eyes widened, as he just stared at Mr. Dane. He slowly unclenched his curled-up fingers.
“I-no,” Lukas admitted. “No, I am not burned. I am okay.”
“Are you sure?” Mr. Dane genuinely questioned as he narrowed his eyes upon the fragile kid.
“Yes,” Lukas vigorously nodded, “I said I was okay.”
“I know what you said,” Mr. Dane reassured Lukas, as he started to tear off his work jacket that was sprinkled with stains, which revealed a white blouse from underneath.
“Lukas, I am sure that this is all very strange to you, and you are probably very uncomfortable about all of this,” Mr. Dane started, as he looked down at the stained carpet, in which Lukas stood in the dead center of. “I just want to help you feel better.”
Lukas clenched his eyes shut, as he tugged at the stained sweater and whispered, “It is too late for that.”
“What is ‘too late’ Lukas?” Mr. Dane asked, as he cuffed his hands.“Nothing is too late.”
“It is too late for me to get better!” Lukas yelled, as he stretched and yanked at the sweater sleeves even tighter. The hot tears began to flow down his face, as they stung his nose and cracked his dry skin. He tried to clench his eyes shut to stop the flow, but the burning tears would not stop. He clamped down on the sleeves, yanked the wool over his head, and let the stained sweater meet the stained carpet.
“Is this what you wanted to see?”
Bruises patched themselves across his legs, unhealed scrapes were slashed across his chest, and burned splotches peeled at parts of his pale skin.
Time felt so slow, almost nonexistent. It felt like everything was over, yet they had barely begun.
Mr. Dane simply got down on his knees to get to the level of the boy. He wished he could hug him tightly enough so that all of his ravaging anger, and all of his tearful fears would vanish. Instead, he started to unbutton his blouse.