Life #4

It was as if the outside world was vibrating as I listened to the eight distinct voices that bellowed from outside the bedroom. I knew that they were fighting because of me because I heard Dakila scream my name so many times. He was kind and gentle—too gentle.

And then I remembered his words.

I know you’re dying and I understand.

How can someone as gentle as him be dying? I turned to my side with a groan. Was it an illness? I bit the tips of my fingernails. Was his time on earth shortened by a disease?

All I could do was hit myself with questions upon questions until I heard the sound of approaching, thundering footsteps made me stiffen. I gasped and shut my eyes. Maybe it’s death? Maybe he’s come to take me home.

The door was thrown open with a loud bang.

The person groaned angrily and barked, “why is this room dark?!”

“Ama! He’s—”

Dakila didn’t get a chance to warn his father about my sensitivity to light as the light was angrily turned on. The harsh glare of the light against my eyelids made me wince in pain.

A pitched gasp sounded. “Dakila why is he in your bed?!” asked a woman. I could guess that she’s his mother because of her motherly tone.

The same thundering footsteps drew closer to me before I felt a tight grip around my arm. “Get up this instance!” The man didn’t wait for my reply and dragged me off the bed like I was a rag doll.

I struggled to stay on my own two feeble feet and I slumped against the man. He grumbled like I was dirt and it hurt.

I scoffed in my head. What a lousy moment to wordplay. Really Sotonye? Really? When you’re just about to be disposed of like a used toy.

“Ama! He’s si—”

“I’m not your father!” the man yelled into my ears, causing me to start. “Go find your father and stop calling me that!”

The woman gasped again. “Leedum watch your tongue!”

I groaned loudly and held my head. Their shouting made my head pound like a metal hammer was being rammed against, the hammer very angry and emotionally driven.

“What—”

“He’s sick!” Dakila gasped out, finally expressing himself, cutting off his father’s words. “And dying!”

This made the man loosen his grip; but he still held onto me. The man’s towering height casted a dark show over my eyelids and this gave me a chance to peel an eye open. Surprise shook me as I caught a glimpse of a face I never thought I’d ever see. A face I’d always seen in a picture which my mother had always shown me, tears in her eyes, curses directed at him on the tip of her angry tongue. He was Leedum Kilali. Coronated chief of this village. Crude oil business magnate. I scoffed bitterly. And also the man who abandoned my father and let him rot to death after my father had helped him get a job in a big company. I almost wanted to spit at his face and watch my foamy saliva rush down his dark skin. Rubbish.

“What did you just say?” Mr. Kilali asked slowly, his voice sharp.

I heard shuffling before Dakila said, “he’s sick and he’s sensitive to harsh lights. Can I switch off the lightbulb? Please.”

The man made a weird throaty, angry sound before he whispered, “alright.”

“Thank you!” Dakila said.

And in less than four seconds, I was engulfed in my silent darkness again. Mr. Kilali totally let go of my arm. Finally, I could totally open my eyes. And I did, just to get the full image of the man. He sighed and rubbed down his bald head, his muscled arm clenching in the sleeve of his suit. He turned to look at me and seemed to stiffen a little at the sight of my scowling face—my scowling face that resembled my father’s.

His eyes widened. “Tonye?”

“Who?” the woman asked sharply.

At the sound of her voice, Mr. Kilali snapped out of his trance and shifted his gaze to Dakila. I still had mine fixated on his face. He cleared his throat and walked away from me, me still scowling at him. “Dakila make sure he gets some rest.” He held onto the door. “Has he had something to eat?”

Dakila looked at him in confusion before stuttering, “uh-uh, no.”

The man sighed, his wife frowning deeply at him in confusion. Good, they’re going to fight. It’ll be worth my last second just to see Mr. Kilali crumble. It will be a fight worth watching. My lips twitched, struggling to maintain a tight line as I fought to hold in a smirk. I hope she punches his face and reshapes it into that of an orangutan’s.

“Take him downstairs and feed him. Make sure the light is as dim as possible. I’ll be down shortly.” He turned his head to his wife. “Gani, come.”

Mrs. Kilali scoffed and sauntered out of the room through the door that her husband was holding open for her. Mr. Kilali sighed loudly and walked out, lightly shutting the door behind him.

Dakila released a pent up sigh, his tiny fingers curled into mini-fists. It was so cute that I almost wanted to drop my frown and pick up a comical grin. He walked gently to me. “That. Was. Weird,” he lightly laughed. He placed a hand on his chest and looked into my eyes. “Too weird.”

I just hummed and raised my head to study the white, bare walls and heavily furnitured room. When I felt Dakila cup my face in his cold hands, I winced due to its temperature. I dropped my gaze to look into his eyes and I gulped. Is this when we kiss? Because the look he’s giving me and the way he’s biting his lips makes him look like a hungry man. With the way we were standing, eye to eye, extremely close, I’d say we’ll kiss in about ten seconds.

But this is my first kiss and I haven’t even brushed for—nah. I’m not revealing that.

I gulped. “Um—”

Dakila leaned in, his thumbs caressing the corners of my mouth. His warm breath smacked my face, engulfing me in its blazing hold and I felt my cheeks grow warm.

Oh my goodness! He is going to—

Like a psychic who was reading my mind, he didn’t even let me complete my thinking and pressed his lips against mine. I was left wide-eyed. He deepened the kiss a little bit before he moved away with a smack.

Dakila looked into my eyes, a small smile on his lips. “That... was my first, like yours.”

He raised a brow in confusion, looked up to the ceiling and licked his pouty lips. Stop that! And then he bit the corners of his lip and looked down into my eyes again. He passed his thumb over my lips, laughter shining in his eyes.

He blew a breath against my face. “I wasn’t expecting my first kiss to be done with unbrushed teeth.”

My face warmed in embarrassment. “I-I’m—”

“Sorry?” He snorted. “I was talking about the both of us.”

My eyes widened in embarrassment. “Oh,” I simply said.

He looked down at my lips and his throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly. Hunger was visible in his eyes, and he satisfied it by leaning in and we smacked again and again, to my solid embarrassment. I was left dizzy in embarrassment and became even dizzier as he leaned in and licked my lips and then licked his.

I felt the shorts I was in tighten. I just had two boners in one night only because I stumbled upon an experienced virgin. Shame. I’m just a dumb, virgin, village boy. To hell be with ignorance and stupidity.

Dakila wrapped his arms around my neck. “I’m sorry if that was rude but...” He tightened his hold. “You’re the only person that’s made me want to fight for life Sotonye. And I thought this was the right time, hopefully, to kiss you. Since everyone’s going to... you know... Um...”

My breath stuttered and I unconsciously wrapped my arms around his lithe body. Our chests vibrated against each other, like our hearts were clawing at our ribcages so they could embrace.

We stayed like that for a while. But it was cut short when someone from downstairs—I hope—shouted, “Dakila get your gay ass down here this instance and stop riding a stranger’s fucking dick!”

“Datu!” another person exclaimed.

What?!

We jumped away from each other, our eyes wide in embarrassment, his face as pink as it can ever be, and my shorts tighter than the unkind grip of impending death.

Dakila cleared his throat and rubbed his neck in embarrassment. He averted his gaze and mumbled, “that was my youngest half brother, Datu. And the other was Edcel, third eldest.” He looked back at me, a blush on his face. “Um... Well...”

He reached forward and pulled my hand into his. He turned around, tugging my hand to follow him. “We better go before he marches up here with threats.”

I just hummed brokenly and let him drag me out of the room. But he suddenly stopped and turned around.

“Oh, before we go...” He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. AGAIN!

I gasped in shock as he forced his tongue into my mouth. I held his face as he held mine and I felt my shorts get wet as his tongue rubbed against mine, sparking foreign emotions.

He moved away, a wide smirk on his face. “That was for assurance.” He pecked both of my cheeks one last time before pulling my jumble-minded body out of his bedroom.

How did I get here? This is now my reality. And I have to face it.

I sighed internally.

Dakila is my ruin.