Ivi was the first to break the thick silence that hung in the air. She was afraid to disturb the fragile figure in front of her. She slowly approached Rava, not taking her eyes off him for a second, and with careful, almost weightless tenderness touched his face. Her fingers trembled with tension, afraid that Rava would crumble from her even the slightest touch.
His skin was hot under her palm. His body trembled just a little, almost imperceptibly, but for Ivi it was enough.
He was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
She held her breath and, collecting her thoughts, quietly, barely audibly asked the first thing that came to mind:
"Aren't you hungry?.. Do you want something to eat?"
At first - silence. Then Rava swallowed hard, and without even saying a word, he nodded three times briefly. Although hot tears were already running down his cheeks, without asking permission, Rava did not feel them.
Ivi could not stand it. She hugged him as tightly as she could, as if she wanted to convey her warmth. And only after clinging to him, feeling his sobs under her cheek, she herself could not stand it and burst into tears.
Behind them, a little further away, Iris and Blaine were still standing, as if knocked out of reality. Their faces were pale, tense, they did not even know where to start, how not to make things worse.
When they finally went up to his floor, Rava felt under the rug for the spare keys. He had forgotten his bag, his clothes, his phone - everything was left in that damned room. The friends looked at each other: it immediately became clear to everyone how predictable and dangerous it was to leave the keys there. But no one said a word.
Turning the key in the lock, Rava suddenly remembered that he hadn't cleaned up after the stream yesterday. Everything in his chest sank. He remembered how, having told the viewers that he just wanted to talk, he still secretly took a stimulant to increase donations. Everything happened automatically, and then he simply fell asleep without strength. And now his apartment is just a disaster: scattered underwear, used condoms for stretching the hole, spilled lubricant.
When he opened the door and immediately slammed it right in front of his friends, all three froze in bewilderment. Behind the door, there was clapping, running, and a quickly turned on vacuum cleaner. Ivi burst out laughing, unable to hold back, Iris followed her, and Blaine just shook his head and chuckled, looking at the floor.
"I think it's clear now who's the perfectionist," Iris said with a half-smile. When Rava opened the door again, a draft hit them in the face - the windows were wide open. He invited them inside. The three of them stepped into the room, modest, cozy, but extremely clean, and took their places: Iris and Ivi on the only two chairs, Blaine on the floor, and Rava on the bed.
"We brought food," Iris said, putting a box of fried chicken and French fries on the table. "Of course, she could have cooled down already."
"Thank you," Rava whispered, still not looking anyone in the eye.
They began to eat in silence.
Everyone wanted to ask only one thing - about the bruise. But each time the question crept up on his lips, he died under the weight of what was happening.
Rava silently looked at the chicken, as if he did not know which side to approach it from. His hands weren't shaking as much as before, but they were still causing concern among those sitting next to him. He was trying to hold on, to remain calm, but every time he wanted to say something, his breath would falter, as if his voice simply wouldn't come out of his throat.
"Eat," Ivi said quietly, handing him a piece of thigh. "You should eat it while it's still a little warm."
He nodded and took the food, trying not to touch her fingers. The food tasted like cardboard. Nevertheless, he ate. Just to do something.
Blaine was sitting on the floor, his legs stretched out in front of him, gnawing on a wing with concentration. He glanced briefly at Rava a couple of times, but said nothing. Iris, sitting on a stool, carefully dipped French fries in ketchup and, as if on purpose, talked about the weather, about the subway, about which of the coffee shop's patrons had come to them today and what they had said.
"Can you imagine, she said that the cat turned off her alarm clock with its paw. The cat", Iris grinned and looked at Rava, hoping for at least a weak smile.
He shook his head weakly and whispered:
"Smart cat."
It was not much, but it was something. Ivy immediately picked up the topic, telling how her neighbor's dog once blocked her laptop by jumping on the keyboard.
The conversation was sluggish. No one knew how to talk about the obvious. About the fact that Rava had a huge, unbearably eloquent bruise on her face, which screamed louder than any words.
Rava ate half a piece of chicken, wiped his fingers on a napkin and curled up, hugging himself. He didn't know when he would be able to fully calm down.
And suddenly, like thunder in a quiet rain, he heard:
"Was that your girlfriend?" Blaine asked unexpectedly sharply, not taking his eyes off Rava.
The fork in Iris's hand froze halfway to her mouth. Ivi raised her eyebrows sharply. The air in the room, already tense, became heavier, as if the ceiling had dropped lower. Rava didn't immediately understand who they were talking about, but when the image popped into his head: a strict jacket, hair pulled back into a perfect ponytail, and those eyes - icy, observing, devoid of any hint of compassion - he choked on his cola, almost spilling the drink on his shirt.
"No," he squeezed out with difficulty, pushing the glass away so as not to repeat the attack. Everything was mixed up in Rava's head: the secretary's face, her detachment, her silent presence in the car, her indifference to other people's pain. He remembered how she didn't even blink when Rava looked back toward the coffee shop.
"Surely she's fucking him."
Hades.
Only after hearing his name in his mind, Rava instinctively touched his lips - swollen, sensitive, as if his body itself did not allow him to forget. Tears, more or less restrained until then, slowly began to flow down his cheeks, treacherously, without asking if it was possible now. He lowered his gaze and remained silent, trying not to choke on himself.
Iris couldn't take it anymore. She threw a pillow at Blaine with all her might, which hit him in the chest with a dull thud.
"Shut up," she hissed, not screaming, but there was fire in her voice. Ivi looked at Rava, then at Iris, then back at Rava. There was concern in her gaze, but also incomprehension. She put her hand on his shoulder, stroked it, as if she was trying to apologize for someone else's words. She and Iris immediately mentally completed the picture: parting, quarrel, slap. And everything immediately became "understandable."
They began to nod sympathetically, as if this would ease the suffering. Ivy whispered:
"Everything will be fine, really... these things happen. The main thing is that you are not alone."
But Blaine, unlike them, did not move. He continued to look at Rava with the same stony expression, as if trying to see something under the tears. Squinting, he suddenly smiled quietly, dryly. Only Rava caught this smile.
Everyone suddenly fell silent. No one lifted the pillow. The air became too thick again. The silence returned to the apartment, more ominous than before. It hung between them, leaving only the sound of the gentle wind outside the window.
After a while, after a couple of awkward attempts to get the conversation back on track, Iris stood up first, saying that she had to go to work early in the morning. Ivi nodded and began to collect the trash in a bag to throw away. They both felt that it was better for Rava to be alone. Everything around her had become too fragile. They said goodbye warmly, hugged Rava, and without asking any more questions, walked out the door, promising to write later.
Rava walked them to the door, lingered in the doorway for a second, as if breathing in the silence. And when he came back, Blaine was already standing at the window, looking down.
"Can I stay?" he asked suddenly, without turning around.
Rava was confused. His heart stopped for a moment, then slammed into his chest, as if screaming "yes" before his mind could process anything.
"Of course," he breathed out, not believing he had said it out loud.
And so they were alone.
They sat on his narrow bed, side by side, their shoulders almost touching. There was little space between them, but within that space, a lot was said. Rava stole glances at Blaine's profile, at his eyelashes, at the tense line of his cheekbone.