ninety

                                    

                                          
     Rosie – after a lot of relieved tears and swearing and a half-incoherent phone conversation with Isaac – told Jared that Isaac’s parents were home tomorrow morning, so not to take him back to his house. Jared’s heart clenched at even the thought of just dropping Isaac off somewhere and leaving him- he wondered if he ought to feel guilty that it hadn’t even crossed his mind not to take Isaac back to Jared’s house, where Jared could wait sat outside the bathroom door as he showered, where Jared could push warm dry clothes into his arms and towel-dry his hair for him as he sat on the rim of the bath. Where Jared could keep mumbling reassurances to him as he rubbed savlon gently onto the fragile broken skin of his arms- where he could press a mug of milky tea into his hands and know, above all, that he was safe.
                          
     Mum’d gone to bed after taking Jared aside and saying,
                          
    “I love you. You’ve been so brave tonight and I’m so- proud. We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”
                          
     He’d nodded, given her an uncharacteristic hug. Just after that Rosie came round unannounced to check for herself (“I just had to make sure”) that Isaac was okay- and the sun was coming up as Jared opened the door to her. He forced himself to stay out of the kitchen then to give she and Isaac some time, and when she came out ten minutes later she threw her arms fiercely around his shoulders and hugged him, so tightly it was almost painful.
                          
    “Thank you,” she said at last, drawing away. “I- don’t know what I’d’ve done if this had turned out differently.”
                          
     He nodded, too choked up to speak. She understood.
                          
     And then after that he was ushering Isaac upstairs, digging out a toothbrush for him and saying,
                          
    “We’ll put you in the spare room, okay? It’s just down the hall from mine.”
                          
      Isaac just gazed at him for a second, clutching the toothbrush, and then asked hesitantly,
                          
    “Can I- can I sleep in your room instead?”
                          
     Figuring it was maybe something to do with familiarity, Jared nodded,
                          
    “Sure, of course,” he said. “I’ll sleep in the spare.”
                          
     Isaac shook his head, all tongue-tied frustration and wordless meaning in his eyes.
                          
    “No-“ he mumbled. “No, I meant- I want- I don’t want to be on my own. I want-” He paused, dragging a nervous hand through his hair, and Jared hastened to reassure him.
                          
    “That’s fine as well. You can sleep in my bed. I- whatever you want, Isaac. I won’t leave you alone.”
                          
     In bed they lay separately for all of two minutes before Isaac was shifting wordlessly closer, clutching at Jared’s shoulder and nestling into the soft-warm-dark of the gap beneath his arm. Jared felt the tension in him uncoil, overwhelmingly and all at once, and he pressed Isaac closer with his arms tightening fiercely round the boy. Using one hand he pulled the duvet carefully around them, focusing on Isaac’s breaths in and out, in and out, and tucked his chin over Isaac’s head. In and out, in and out. He could feel it on his chest, in his chest, his heart beating in time to it.
                          
    “You’re okay now,” he whispered softly, and wasn’t sure whom he meant to reassure.