After noticing, it was Ansel who had called, Heka let out a sigh mixed with a reluctant grin. There was something about Ansel's persistence that both annoyed and intrigued him. Yet, despite the flutter of emotions, he chose to ignore the call.
Instead, he slipped his phone under his pillow, careful to muffle the ringing so it wouldn't disturb the quiet of the room too much. Even with the sound softened, he could still hear the phone ring six times, each chime a reminder of Ansel's insistence.
"Maybe, I don't suppose called him." He muttered to himself, a pang of regret settling in his chest.
The thought gnawed at him. Perhaps if he hadn't reached out earlier, Ansel wouldn't have felt the need to call him so many times in return.
Or maybe, if he had simply stayed silent, Ansel might have believed he had forgotten the promise they once made.
Despite the swirling thoughts, he pushed them aside and turned his attention back to his laptop. The glow of the screen was a welcome distraction from the turmoil inside. Ignoring the message was his way of maintaining control, of keeping the emotional floodgates firmly shut.
Hours passed, and by 8:00 in the evening, his work was finally complete. The exhaustion that settled over him was both physical and mental.
He longed for rest, a break from the relentless demands of his tasks. For the next few days, he vowed to himself, he would not take on any new assignments.
He needed time to breathe, to heal, and perhaps to figure out what to do about Ansel and the complicated feelings that had begun to surface.
He headed to bed and grabbed his phone.
"Lots of calls from Ansel."
There are also two messages from Ansel.
Heka, why didn't you answer my call?
The first message was sent during the day. Then the second message was sent at 06.00.
If you don't respond to me, I will withdraw my words to help you.
Heka couldn't help but laugh softly as he read the second message from Ansel. The tone was unmistakably annoyed, almost playful in its frustration at being ignored.
In truth, Heka had wanted to ignore Ansel. He had convinced himself that keeping his distance was the best way to protect his own peace of mind. Yet, beneath that resolve, a gnawing sense of guilt tugged at him.
But then, almost immediately, he deleted it. It felt childish, like giving in to a game he wasn't sure he wanted to play.
And besides, Ansel was much younger than him, too young. Perhaps, to be caught up in this complicated dance of emotions.
Heka realized something important: ignoring Ansel was futile. He had tried it several times before, each attempt only drawing him closer to the inevitable. It was as if fate itself was pulling him toward Ansel, weaving their lives together in ways he couldn't escape or deny.
With a newfound resolve, Heka decided to call Ansel. This time, there was no ringing for long Ansel answered immediately. The sound of Ansel's voice, bright and enthusiastic, filled the room and lifted a weight from Heka's chest. There was a warmth in that voice, a genuine cheerfulness.
"Hello, Heka!!" Ansel exclaimed. Even though he called first, Ansel was the first to speak.
"Hello..."
"Let's meet up. I want to convey a message from my Grandpa to you. I have already talked to Grandpa, and he agreed to help you."
"Okay, where?"
"Tomorrow at the bookstore. It's close to the pet shop."
"Okay." Heka answered briefly and immediately hung up the phone.
He truly understood that Ansel was a little fussy, impatient and talkative in a way that could easily overwhelm someone who wasn't prepared for it. If he hadn't hung up the phone so quickly, he was certain he would have been subjected to a relentless stream of chatter, a babbling that seemed to have no end.
So, despite the brief and somewhat awkward phone call, he allowed himself to push aside any lingering irritation or doubt. Tomorrow was the day that counted. Tomorrow, he would face Ansel again, and whatever came after would unfold in its own time.
****
Ansel arrived at the bookstore early, the familiar scent of paper and ink greeting him as he stepped inside. The place was quiet, the soft rustling of pages and the occasional creak of wooden floors filling the air.
He glanced around eagerly, but Heka was nowhere to be seen. A small frown creased Ansel's brow. "Heka hasn't come yet." He murmured to himself, a hint of impatience in his voice.
He wandered around and looked at books. His steps stopped at a shelf full of comics.
Then, suddenly, a familiar scent caught his attention, an unmistakable trace of Heka's body odor lingering in the air. A broad smile spread across Ansel's face. "He's comin." He thought, a surge of excitement warming his chest.
His eyes darted toward the entrance, searching for any sign of Heka. And there he was standing just outside the bookstore, looking slightly hesitant but unmistakably present.
Approaching from behind, Ansel tapped Heka's shoulder lightly. "Come on!!!" He exclaimed with enthusiasm. The surprise in Heka's expression was evident, but Ansel didn't mind.
With a bright smile, Ansel greeted him warmly. Without hesitation, he reached out and took Heka's hand, gently pulling him inside the cozy bookstore.
Though his smile was genuine, a shadow of regret flickered in Ansel's heart. He worried that by showing such openness, he had given Heka false hope. He knew Heka might see him as humble, perhaps even vulnerable. But the truth was more complicated.
When Ansel first met Heka, he had seen only a glimpse of the boy's true self. But after several encounters, the darkness and destruction lurking beneath Heka's calm.
Ansel understood that beneath the surface, Heka was wrestling with an invisible living being that threatened to consume him.
Whatever Heka's reaction to this meeting, whether it was hatred, fear, or resignation. Ansel was prepared to accept it. He was ready to face the consequences of their intertwined fates, no matter how painful they might be.