Games

         It’s just the two of us under the covers as I rest my icy blonde head on his chest, wondering about the contrast of our bodies. I look at my hand against his skin and now it almost seems transparent over his bronze tones. Perhaps our inner universes do not possess the natural parameters of our living bodies. I smile at the possibility.
         Suddenly a loud sigh collides with my eardrums and I shiver. Like the horrible sound of an unstoppable approaching tsunami. I raise my head and pierce his brown iris with my steel blue gaze.
         – Is something wrong? – I inquire with sleepy voice, scanning his expressions.
         – What? No. What do you mean? – the answer is wrapped up in poorly mimicked surprise.
         I remain silent but never look away. He turns his glare back to the ceiling, signaling the lack of interest in the answer. I know this glare. Stiff, like it’s made of stone. The once warm eyes turned a hazy pale abyss, like a window covered by white see-through curtains: makes it harder for curious eyes to make out the shapes, but doesn’t hide anything. I know this glare. Even the slightest slip of concentration would result in the total collapse of the soul. That’s the one. A faint confusement rushes through me and I furrow my brows.
         – Are you sure?
         – I’m sure. – He never moves.
         I wrap myself into the enormous red blanket I’ve been lying under and get on my feet with clumsy but frustrated moves. Barefoot, I go to the kitchen and get a glass of water. I take a síp, then slam the glass on the counter, almost smashing it into pieces. Turning my head towards the window, I stare at the world outside as I feel my rage pounding on the strong walls of my inhibitions. As I open the window the freezing winter air pours on me and covers my shoulders in goosebumps. I’m just standing here.
         I close the window and stumble to the bathroom. Standing in front of the dirty circle shaped mirror above the sink, I see my reflection’s eyes have sunken in. The red textile reminds me of a blood stain on my chest. I’m sure we can talk this through – I think to myself as I take a deep breath.
         Quietly as I can, I enter the bedroom. The door I left ajar lets out a creak as I push it in. He is in the same position. Staring at the same spot. I wonder if he himself turned to stone. The sight rekindles the fire in my chest and face.
         – What is your goddamn problem? – I yell, startling him.
         I look at him with determination and promise myself never to break eye contact until I receive a comprehensible answer. His eyes tell of disbelief, but there is a barely visible trace of terror behind it. He is made of flesh again.
         – Excuse me?
         – You heard me. What is your issue now?
         – Just leave it.
         – Why can’t you ever tell me anything?          
         – Why can’t you ever understand anything?