Obsessed

Home. Sundays. My weekly off. Typically I love Sundays. I got to be with my Al the full day after all. I love to keep my head on his shoulder and wrap my hands around him. I rest my cheek on his bony clavicle and a thought wanders through my mind.

“Al your cabinet’s not cleaned in a long while na?”, I say to him my mouth pressed on his shirt which muffled my voice.

His eyes were closed as he played him my fingers. Eyes opened or close he somehow knew my hand as good as the back of his hand. Even better. He traced a finger with his eyes closed and the other was in his palms even before I knew. As if they were in contact all the while. He enjoyed my presence and made no attempt to hide it. He hummed in affirmative.

“I am going to clean it.”, I said starting to get up.

I look at his face at it shocked me. He had went pale. His eyes were wide in fear and his throat was dry. “N-no need Angel. I-I’ll do it tommo-morrow.”, he said.

“Al what are you hiding?”, I asked a bit scared.

“N-nothing.”, he said picking lint from his shirt.

“Come with me.”, I said and pulled his hand and lead him to the wardrobe.

He came without revolting which is a good sign. When we were in front of the wardrobe I looked at him. Initially he too just looked at me but then he gave up the facade.

“Ok ok fine.”, he said but his hand was hiding his blushing face. “Open the door of the wardrobe.”

I opened.

“In the sock drawer.”, he said and faced the opposite direction.

All sorts of thought crossed my mind. Cigarettes? Alcohol? Someone else’s photographs? With trembling hands I open the drawer.

Sock. Mind you not socks. A single sock. Not just one. Approximately twelve single socks and three in pairs. Around seven handkerchiefs which were obsolete. Two shirts and God knows what else. All mine.

But then on closer inspection I found that this is the reject basket. The clothes which I no longer can use and asked him to donate or throw. He’s having a full collection of it.

“What’s this Al?”, I asked absolutely confused.

Initially shy but then he spoke, “They’re yours. You used to have them all the time with you. These have been in touch with you. These were a part of you. I can’t… I can’t just throw these!”

I looked at him my cheeks burning cause if the blush. My eyes almost wet, I went and hugged him tightly.

“You’re mad.”, I said as I always do when I don’t understand what to say to my crazy Al.

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