Chapter 7: Gideon

The phone stirred against her short. She had forgotten to give it back to him. Retrieving it out, it was shown it was a call from his mom. On the screen it simply displayed "Mother". Showing it to him and realizing the caller, he just shook his head immediately, passively, only a bit dismayed perhaps for the unnecessary distraction, and just continued what he'd been enjoying doing, now making a larger room off her shoes for comfort to the new damage she'd done to herself.

"You should answer it," she insisted, although uncertain if he'd really do it, as if she had the say at all, a sort of control over his life and his decisions.

"Nah," he said, dismissing her demand.

There was an ache in her heart, a delayed heartbeat. It was being affirmed over and over that no one really listened to her or acknowledge her opinion. She was just a woman after all. Although even if she was a boy, it wouldn't also make any difference for sure. In spite of that still she said, "She might have something important to tell you."

He didn't bother to listen. He conducted the final glance on the bandage, assuring it was secured, finishing his first task of the two. "You should listen to me next time..." he commanded.

He was acting too much like her dad, like someone she owed her life to, that she had to immediately change the topic of the conversation. From her, to him. As it should be. Or else.

The phone went to abrupt silent, then rang one more time, persistent.

"Please answer it, at least for me." She might be looking for you, Madeline even guessed, and she's your mom for fucking sake! Well, she hadn't had a clue as to what kind of mother-son relationship they had with each other, or if ever there were any issues between them though. If ever that either of which was true, still she'd never have any rights to know, to involve herself. She had too much to care for her life anyway, and she would never let him involved in her own life. As if he was interested in the slightest.

She shoved the ringing phone further away from her and towards his face.

He stared at her eyes, assessing them. "Fine," he said, defeated, then gently snatched the phone from her hand. He gracefully slid his thumb on the screen to accept the call. An immediate silence, then the timer began. "Morning, mom..."

He clicked the speaker button and set it in full volume and then dropped the phone flat on the surface of the table. Slouching still, with a gesture of a hand, without looking directly at her, he asked for her other feet. She did what she was asked by his hand. This was the trade-off, it seemed, she thought.

"Gideon!" A shriek of childish excitement reverberated on the phone. Madeline couldn't help but remember and imagine her own mom. She tried to imagine and think of something else, but failing. She rather paid heed to his name, her very first time hearing it, coming from his own mom's solemn voice.

Gideon.

"Hmm?" There was something sensually unfathomable in the way he hum, the way his domineering voice echoed and drummed on his chest more than the beating of his own heart.

"Evan told me you didn't attend your classes yesterday—"

"I don't want to study anymore," he said so casually.

"Okay. But you didn't come home last night. Where are you right now?"

He shifted his posture, now sitting at the cemented floor. It didn't seem that he was comfortable even remotely at all. He crossed his legs. "Why are you calling me anyway?"

"We're just worried. Come home now, or I can send someone to fetch you there. Have you eaten yet? I will prepare breakfast for you."

"Yeah—"

"He hasn't yet..." Madeline interrupted. It was an instinctive response, really, merely out of guilt and pity, because it was true in any way. For sure this food wasn't sufficient enough for his bulky form, definitely not, but she had just realized it was so out of place that she immediately covered her mouth. She wasn't even the recipient of the call. And she wasn't supposed to intervene at all, but merely to listen. Anyway, she couldn't help but wonder why he bought food for her only. For sure, and it was apparent he could afford. Maybe he just forgot himself. Maybe he wasn't really that hungry yet. Maybe he didn't like the food at all but was just forced to because of her. She didn't know. Damn.

Gideon wasn't mad or anything anyway, at least that was what she could make of his face, and thank god that made her relaxed. But he just kept his silence lingered in his tightened lips, not until she was finally done speaking. Her other feet that now was at his hand wasn't actually swelling or anything,  perfectly fine unlike the other, still he worked on it, all his eyes on it, same intensity and concentration as before, bandaging it the same, just to have something to focus his concentration on, to prolong the time, and at the same time to waste it probably, with her.

"Who's that?" asked his mom, genuinely interested and concerned. Madeline imagined her pressing her ears hard on the phone, as if gossiping.

"I'm with a girl."

"Really?" An audible distance of the phone from the speaker. Sound of hurry. Multiple knocks. Slam of a door.  "William, quick! Gideon's finally with a girl!"

"Mom, she's listening," said Gideon, face unrecognizable this time, tightening the bandage.

After a moment of silence.

"Very well." A deeper voice spoke, insistent and probing. "What's her name?"

"I don't know actually," said Gideon, shrugging.

Madeline tightened her lips. That was true. They never got to talk about their personal details, even acquainted each other even simply by exchanging their names. They were, after all, strangers of each other, not knowing anything but still somehow trust each other. She wondered why it was so. And why it didn't matter at all.

"What? Why? Ask her then," Gideon's mom cut in, impatient.

"Much better, why not bring her here, Gideon," his dad, William, suggested.

"No way." A noticeable knot of forehead above Gideon's eyebrows. "I don't think she'd want to. Besides, I still have to bring her to the nearest hospital—" There was a sense of immediate regret on his expression once he told his mom and his dad this.

His mom's gasp was audible. "What? What happened? Were you in an accident? But you car is here—"

Gideon started scratching his temple. "No, not that—"

Another gasp, a realization this time. "Gideon! Don't tell me—"

"No, Mom." He was suddenly blushing, bloody red. "Of course not!"

"Oh alright, son, I trust you."

"I'll explain everything once I go home," Gideon assured.

It was his dad's inquisition this time. "When will it be exactly?"

"Later," Gideon answered impulsively, as if already tired of talking with his parents and answering their endless questions about his life.

"That's good to hear. Do you need anything?" His dad asked.

"Yes dad, actually. Tell Mr. De Castro to come over here. I'll send my location after this call. And I need an appointment with a vet. Do you mind having three cats in the house, mom?"

"Of course not," his mom said, giddy. "Sure. I'll actually be glad to welcome them as new members of the family."

"Thank you," said Gideon.

"Anything else you need?" It was his dad once more.

Gideon sighed. "I can't think of anything else I need right now thank you."

"Can we talk to her for a moment at least?" asked his mom, insistent.

"Not this time."

"Invite her on your 18th birthday, then," his dad insisted this time around.

"I don't think she'll be interested."

"Let her speak," demanded William.

Gideon went silent, eyes went back to her feet, now massaging it. His ears were actively listening to the conversation.

Madeline leaned on, anxious. She cleaned her throat. "H-hello, Sir."

"Oh scratch that, you can just call me William instead."

"Hello, honey, what's your name? I'm Meredith, Gideon's mom."

"M-madeline..."

She saw Gideon's mouth discreetly moved, as if prayed, whispering a sort of incantation, familiarizing his tongue of her name.

"Madeline, what a beautiful name."

"So, Madeline, how's my son so far?" Gideon's dad asked, interested.

She considered her thoughts. "I-I am sorry, Sir, but we aren't actually dating."

"Oh, you're not? Why is that? Gideon!" said his mom.

But Gideon stayed silent.

Madeline looked at him. At his stillness, silence.

"Despite that, what I could say, however, is that he's a gentleman. And I am grateful I got to meet him. Not in the best way, but still. I am thankful you raised him well. For sure, his wife will be lucky to be her husband."

"Maybe we can talk this out further over the table with champagne and foods, don't you think?" suggested William, "with your parents."

She was sitting comfortably, but uncomfortable, despite Gideon's careful strokes. "No, I'm sorry but I don't think there's even a need for it."

Meredith, Gideon's mom, said, "Why do you say so? I'll tell Gideon to invite you on his birthday. For sure he'll love it. And we'll be glad to meet you here."

"I'm sorry I can't. I don't think I matter."

"Of course you are. Just you being with him alone means that he's interested in you. That he cares for you."

"No, he doesn't. I'm sorry, you don't understand. We're nothing."

"Don't say that. Don't say sorry to us. And you're not nothing."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I am so stupid to explain. I'm sorry I'm not making sense anymore."

Madeline stood abruptly, which was by the way sparked an immediate anger on Gideon's face as she pulled herself away. It was as if he wasn't even done yet with hers, although there was really nothing to fix on it. She wondered why he was still doing it, why he was fond of doing it, in spite of it being a futile attempt. She'd been broken inside, beyond repair, even time couldn't heal her anymore.

"I have to go."

Gideon stood the same, as quick as her, significant height difference was apparent between them. "Okay. Let's go." He aggressively shoved both his hands deep down the bottom in his pocket, as if to imprison them.

"No. I have to go alone."

"You can't walk."

"I can. And I can just ride on a taxi."

"Do you have money?"

"I-I do, y-yes, of course."

"But still, with your current state, that's not the safest option. Let's wait for Mr. De Castro. I will bring you to the hospital personally."

"I want to go home."

"To your home, then."

"Why are you doing this?"

Gideon's lips parted a bit. "Because I can. And I want to."

"You don't even know me."

"You're Madeline," he confidently said. "Tell me anything else. I'm willing to know everything about you."

"I don't even know you."

He offered a hand for a handshake. "I'm Gideon Lan—"

Madeline took a step back. "Stop, please..." She tended her head, aggressively stroking her temples with her knuckles. "Y-you d-don't have to tell me anything about you..." She suddenly felt nauseous, lips twitching uncontrollably. Her hands were sweating like crazy.

"Why not? I don't mind anyway."

"I..."

"A-are you okay?"

"I..."

"Madeline..." His voice struck a chord of heartfelt concern and quickly he was before her. But in her eyes he looked like merely an apparition, deceived by her own very eyes. She tried to reach him with her weakening hands but it felt like it didn't even touch him, even an inch closer than her reality. Her weight crumbled down on her feet, and her head although so light felt like she was being pushed down underwater. She couldn't breath, like there was a heavy pile of wet clothes against her chest, and later on there was only darkness anywhere, and then a hand somewhere snuggled around her, then a body brushed with hers, a little whisper of assurance resounded near her ear. Then an accidental kiss on her cheek. Whether it was imagined or existed or dreamt, she wasn't certain anymore. The rest, only nothingness.