Yearning
Alex and Miriam sat on the railing of the balcony, talking and laughing, legs dangling over the edge into empty space. Miriam kicked her feet idly, enjoying the weight of Alex’s arm around her shoulders and the feeling of his flannel overshirt against her cheek. Birds chirped, swooping overhead. A light breeze cut through the heat of the sunshine perfectly. The sky, a perfect clear blue, held only a few fluffy white clouds.
Sighing, Miriam tried to relax, to breathe deeply, focusing on Alex’s warmth, the scent of his cologne. Her head had felt stuffed full the past few weeks. The announcement of the draft had caught everyone by surprise. And lately she’d been feeling…guilty…about her and Alex’s arrangement. Sure it was nice to have someone to snuggle with, to warm the bed at night, someone to talk to and to stand by. But she knew, and she knew that he knew, neither of their feelings ran deeper than friendship. And…recently, her heart had been pulled towards someone else. Someone brilliant and strong and blue.
After a moment of silence, Alex spoke with a new tone; serious and quiet, his words echoing her thoughts so precisely that if she hadn’t known better she’d have thought he was a telepath. “Miriam, with everything going on, I’ve been thinking…” He sighed. “Look, this has been really nice but we both know we don’t have actual feelings for each other.” He glanced down, where a large blue man led a group of students across the lawn, gesturing animatedly as he taught. “And with the war…I’ll likely be drafted any day now.” He made a noise as Miriam started speaking. “No, don’t. We both know it’s true.”
Miriam sighed as well, sitting up so that Alex’s arm fell from her shoulders. He let her, resting his hand on the railing, looking at her intently. “I wish you wouldn’t talk about it so matter-of-factly like that.” She tipped her head back to stare at the clouds scudding by. Seconds passed. “But…” she said finally, “you are right.” She turned to him, and laid her hand over his on the balcony railing. “As long as we can still be friends. You’re one of my best friends, Alex, truly.”
Alex laughed. “You can’t get rid of me that easy. Look, I’ll leave for the war, and so will most everyone, if I have my guess. But you know who won’t leave?”
“Charles?” she guessed, knowing that was the wrong answer.
He bumped her shoulder with his, grinning. “Hank. There’s no way he’ll be drafted. I think he’s got, what, asthma and a couple other things on his medical record? Even if his turning blue cured those, I doubt he’ll update it. Plus Charles needs a caretaker. Hank isn’t a fighter, not really.” Now his gaze was intense. “Promise me, Miriam. While I’m gone, you tell him how you feel.”
She couldn’t meet his eyes. “How can I? He’s been watching the two of us together for weeks now. He won’t believe me. And even if he does…he won’t feel the same way.”
“You’d be surprised.” Alex let out a laugh. “Besides, you know it’ll eat you up until you tell him. You know how you get when something’s stuck in your head.”
Miriam couldn’t help but grin back. “You’re right, as usual.” The breeze rustled through her hair, and through Alex’s. He’d let it grow out, almost to his shoulders, and it made him look even more like a surfer than he already did. She looked up again at the clear blue sky.
Tell Hank how she felt? And Alex leaving for war? It didn’t feel right to think about things like that on a perfect day like today. “Tell you what, Alex, give me one more day. We can end things tomorrow.”
“Alright.” Alex put his arm back around her shoulders. “Works for me.”
—
A few months later
—
The mansion felt so…empty. After most of the students had been drafted, the rest had gone home to be with their families. Only Miriam, whose family didn’t want her, and Hank, as Charles’ caretaker, remained. And Charles, of course, but he so rarely left his room these days.
Most of the furniture hid under dust covers. Charles had hired someone to do that, then promptly fired everyone, including the groundskeepers. Miriam spent her days cooking meals that Hank took up to Charles, reading in the library, and wandering the overgrown gardens aimlessly. She wondered if Alex was doing okay. But thinking of him made her think of the promise he’d extracted before he left. He’d kissed her on the cheek, then whispered in her ear, “Promise you’ll tell him,” and she’d agreed before she could stop herself.
She and Hank ate together nearly every night now, and usually shared breakfast as well. He was so easy to talk to, always making her laugh even on the days she woke up on the wrong side of the bed. He spent most of his spare time in his lab, trying to cook up remedies for Charles’ paralysis in the hopes that being able to walk might break him out of his funk. She went down occasionally, when he needed a second set of hands, but chemistry really wasn’t her strong suit.
Every time she saw him, sat next to him at the table, brushed against his shoulder as they passed in the halls, every single time, her skin shivered and she felt as if she was on fire. Her heart would begin to race. She hoped his ears weren’t good enough to hear that. And once, he’d invited her to work out with him. But apparently, he exercised shirtless these days. She made it about five minutes before stammering some excuses and running out the door.
Surely he knew already, how she felt. She didn’t have to say anything. And since he wasn’t saying anything, since he was just acting normal, perhaps he just…didn’t feel the same, and didn’t want to make things awkward. They were living in the same house, after all, and neither of them had anywhere else to go.
But she’d promised. And she and Alex had also promised they’d never lie to each other, as part of their friendship. Damn him to hell, she thought. Then she remembered he was fighting in a war and chuckled dryly. Guess he already was in hell.
How was she supposed to tell him?
—
Hank was in hell.
Or at least it sure felt like it.
Living with her, with no one else around, was torture. Sharing meals, chores, jokes…God, how he loved making her smile. How he wanted to kiss her every time she laughed. But how could he, looking like he did? He couldn’t tell her and risk losing her friendship. Especially since they were stuck in this huge empty house. And Charles was no help, locked up in his room like an invalid, staring at those photos of Raven and Erik.
So Hank spent as much time in the lab as possible. He thought maybe he could find…not a cure, but a way to suppress his mutation. Maybe then…maybe then Miriam could consider going out with him? He occasionally had to ask Miriam to help with his experiments, and each time, her scent lingered in his lab for days. He breathed it in deeply, memorizing it.
Sometimes, their conversations came easily, and he saw that light in her eyes, saw her smile. He tried to make her laugh whenever he could. In those moments, he felt like there could be hope. But who would want to go out with a big blue monster?
This latest experiment showed promise, surprisingly, towards both of his objectives. He’d run as many tests as he could without using animals; that felt too inhumane. Today he’d test it on himself, and then, if that was successful, on Charles. But first, he had to make it through breakfast.
She was already in the kitchen in her pajamas (an overlarge shirt and shorts), yawning as she poured a bowl of cereal. He went to the cupboard to grab a bowl of his own. “Leave the milk out for me?” he asked.
“Mmhmm.” She yawned, left the open jug on the counter, and went over to the table where she slumped into a chair. She didn’t look at him the entire time.
He poured his own bowl. “What are you up to today?” He thought he achieved the lighthearted tone he’d been aiming for.
“Oh, the usual.” She sounded strained. “Reading, probably. Looks overcast today.”
“Any interesting books?”
“Just a novel I’ve been eyeing. Maybe some physics research.” She took a bite. She smelled nervous, tense. She often did around him lately. He wished the mansion were full again. Having it be just the two of them puttering around this big empty place made everything harder.
“Interesting. I’m hoping to see some progress on my experiments today.”
“Mmm.”
He wanted to sigh. But he held it in, taking a bite of cereal instead. It was his favorite kind. Miriam must like it too, because she kept buying it when she did the shopping. He finished his bowl quickly.
“Well, see you later.”
“Yeah. Hey, Hank? Good luck.”
He looked back, and saw that she was staring at the back of the cereal box. Reading it? Still, he felt a bit of warmth. “Thanks.”
—
She hated the sound of the door closing behind him. Good luck? That was it? That was all she could muster?
She rested her head on clenched fists. God, how am I supposed to tell him?
—
He stared at the serum in the syringe. For a moment, he flashed back to that day, so long ago, when he’d tried to suppress his mutation and instead enhanced it. The day he’d turned blue. Was what he was doing now really any different? Trying to change so that Miriam would like him?
Perhaps it wasn’t. But perhaps it was as well. He didn’t know. His heart was a tangle of emotion. He did want to help Charles, truly. The man had been his friend, his supporter, his mentor, when he needed one. Charles had given Hank a home.
And yet…
Miriam. Her eyes, sparkling. Her scent. Her smile. Her laugh.
Seeing her with Alex had been utter torture. She’d looked so content, so peaceful, whenever he held her. And when he’d kissed her on the cheek the day he’d left, she’d had such a tortured expression. “I promise,” she’d whispered. He hadn’t been meant to overhear, but with his enhanced hearing… A promise to wait for him?
Alex was handsome. Alex was tall and strong and blond and so human it hurt to look at him. Hank was none of those things. Hank was furry and blue and had hands for feet and fangs in his mouth. He was an animal.
And this could fix him.
But what if fixing himself didn’t change things? And what if it did? Shouldn’t Miriam like him for who he was, if she liked him at all? What did he really want from her?
He lowered the syringe slowly, breathing hard.
And then in one swift motion, he lifted the needle and stabbed it into the crook of his elbow, the pain bringing a growl from deep in his throat. His veins burned, on fire and freezing. He felt his fur retracting into his body, felt his skin becoming smooth. The air felt so cold. His clothes hung limp around this now-smaller frame. He felt…weak. Slow. Blind and deaf. His enhanced senses had gone with his fur.
Now for the real test: waiting for the drug to wear off. Or he could try and overcome it with effort and adrenaline. In theory, that ought to work.
But that wouldn’t test the drug the way he wanted. He grabbed a notebook and pen. They felt so large. It took him a minute to adjust to writing with a normal hand again. Results good, he wrote. Mutation suppressed. No immediate side effects. He added the time, and the date just to be thorough, then sat back. Should he read? Watch a movie? He didn’t have any other projects to start.
His leg began to bounce. How long until the dose wore off? An hour, if his calculations had been correct, and they nearly always were. How long had it been? Ten minutes? He checked the clock, and found that only two minutes had passed. He sighed. This was going to be the longest hour of his life.