Flip the Coin [BL]

A long and very intense dream, from which I didn’t want to wake up.

And when I did, I was so damn confused.

Blinking repeatedly at the high, black, and shiny ceiling above me, I didn’t know how to shake off the daze left behind by the long, deep sleep.

"Henry?" My mouth felt parched as I reached to my side, fumbling on the bed I was apparently lying on, feeling for the body that should be beside me.

"Henry??" I supported my arms with my elbows, taking in the massive room I was in.

However, before I could come up with an idea as to where I was, I nearly had a heart attack at the figure sitting on a leather couch like a statue about ten meters away.

Further behind him were gigantic ceiling-to-floor windows, showing a view from maybe the twentieth floor or something.

But I didn’t try to make out the view, as the statue sitting there was much more eye-catching.

With the clouded sky behind him and the light coming from the back, his face seemed much more shaded.

Like the drawing of a villain.

Fuck... What am I even thinking?

His gaze, clad in humanly blue contact lenses, punctured me motionlessly—as if he were asleep with his eyes open.

This whole scene, besides being scary as hell, was also somewhat familiar.

"Henry?" I reached my hand out, as if offering a friendly gesture to an unfamiliar animal.

He had a hood pulled over his hair and was dressed all in black and tightly covered, which made him look even bulkier. His getup didn’t match the temperature in here, and the way he had his arms crossed and his legs spread was somewhat foreboding.

Something happened, and damn right it did.

The plane crash ... and me smashing the table.

A memory of the past, people of the present, and my ability running out of control.

Then... arms holding me, circus music surrounding me.

My mother?

But what about the puppy? What happened to him?

The memories were strange and distorted, and I would think I had imagined everything if not for the figure in front of me looking traumatized as hell.

I wanted to stand up and go to him, but the moment I made the motion to move, he sprang up in one fluid motion, scaring me yet again.

"How are you feeling?" Henry asked me, as if he had just come back to life, as if the scene where he had stared at me in stillness without answering my calls had been a lie.

"Somehow weak but alright, you?" And I had a headache.

I let myself fall back but still reached out for him.

His steps accelerated, and then he was right above me, looking down on me, but still too far away.

No taking my hand, but he poured me a glass of water from the nightstand and placed it in my hand.

He wore thick leather gloves.

I gulped it down and gave it back.

He took it and put it back.

So strange, so unnatural, his behavior choked me into silence.

But I forced myself to say the words coming to my mind.

"I missed you." It felt as if we hadn’t seen each other for a long time.

"I missed you too," he answered with a tremble in his timbre, yet his face was still expressionless.

Something had scared him badly.

"Don’t use your powers. Don’t even attempt to use them." The topic abruptly changed to a warning that was delivered with a smile and a tap of his gloved finger against his throat.

I mimicked his motion and touched my own throat... and feeling the familiar metal, I found it was a collar—the kind of collar I had already worn twice and seen four times—the kind I conjured up for Henrietta to wear.

What the fuck?

???

My heart skipped a bit, and I looked back to him.

The moment my eyes met his, his smile fell before blooming anew, much chillier.

"What is going on?" I asked.

"Don’t use your powers."

"Yeah, I caught that the first time."

"Mhm... don’t do it."

"You are repeating yourself. Why the fuck is there a collar on me?"

"It is there so you don’t use your powers."

I chuckled angrily and took a breath.

Alright.

It’s my fault for trying to argue with him when he is clearly unwell.

"What happened? Is everybody alright?" I asked instead.

His strange smile faded.

"Yes."

Then why the fuck don’t you come and give me a hug and a kiss?

Instead of speaking my thoughts, I continued to probe.

"Where are they?"

"Wherever."

"Henry..." I clenched my jaw but then softened my tone.

"Will you fucking talk to me? Hm?"

"...Ask." He sat on the side of the bed, ignored my hand reaching for him, and placed his gloved one on my chest.

"What happened?" I placed my hand on his.

"You saved everyone from the plane crash with a circus space." He murmured, his eyes leaving me and staring at the wall instead.

I pieced together the information he gave me with the confusing memories.

Alright, this didn’t sound so bad for having smashed one of my catalysts and for my, or the giant’s, power to run wild.

Though it’s embarrassing as fuck that I hid in my mother’s arms.

"How are you?" I repeated my question from before.

"Good, alright," he answered soulllessly.

Lies.

There were so many more questions to ask, but the strange atmosphere around the puppy and the sudden distance between us made me hesitate, heartbroken and paranoid.

So I concentrated on my surroundings to stop myself from spiraling down.

A massive room, no walls but big windows, a bunch of stools and tables on the side, and given the layout and furniture all in all, this seemed to have been a restaurant in a skyscraper.

He just brought a massive bed here for me to lie on, while the rest of the space was mostly cleared with a few lounge chairs standing around, matching the couch he had sat on.

I looked through the windows; I could see the top of a Ferris wheel not far away together with a few other attractions that you would find in an amusement park.

I gave you a circus, and you give me an amusement park?

I looked back at Henry and found that his eyes were on me again.

I tried to sit up but noticed that I couldn’t move one of my legs properly.

He retracted his hand from on top of my chest when I frowned and then lifted the blanket to take a look.

My right leg was... in a plaster, from my foot to my thigh—the length glaringly obvious given that I was only in my boxers.

I stared at it for some time before looking back at Henry.

He just looked back at me with his head tilted a bit to the side.

I motioned at my leg and raised my eyebrows.

Do I have to speak it out loud? What is this?

"..."

"You broke your leg during the plane crash," he eventually drawled out.

Ah.

Yeah. Sure.

That doesn’t even make sense??

And besides the most obvious reason, even if I had experienced the plane crash and broken my leg, I would have had the very fast recovery rate of more than just an upgraded body, AND ADDITIONALLY, when I moved my toes, I didn’t feel any pain at all; my leg was as unbroken as it could be.

Alright.

A collar, an enclosed space high up, and a plastered leg.

I let out a sigh, suppressing the thought of what must have happened for him to be this agitated, to be this desperate.

He clearly wasn’t in the state to talk about it either.

"Thank you for taking care of my leg." I leaned back in the fluffy pillow and watched his motionless stare.

"Did you plaster someone before?"

"First time." He whispered, his lids hanging lazily as if he were tired.

Wouldn’t have guessed, given the excellent handiwork.

"Will you come here and take a nap with me?" I patted my side.

"Why?" He looked at me suspiciously, as if I were trying to lure him to sleep to then break out of the cage he had come up with.

Had it been like this? Did I lock you into a circus?

Is it like this? You have locked me into an amusement park in return?

I knocked on the plaster.

"I am tired and my leg hurts."