Page 19 of Compassion

How on earth is it possible to feel so many things just staring into someone’s eyes? How can you feel lost in such a way that you never wanna be found but found in a way that makes you feel like you’ll never be lost again? How can they give you breath yet take it away? Promise security and showcase insecurity?

It takes longer than I expect to find my voice, “So, they’re probably gonna circle the neighborhood for the next couple hours, especially with the way the sleet is picking up. Part of that is to make sure I’m not full of shit about who you are, and the other part is simply routine patrol during inclement bad weather. They get an odd amount of ‘emergency’ calls during storms like this. It’ll probably be better for us both if you wait here for a bit, but after that, I can take you wherever you like. I mean I don’tlovedriving in the sleet…,” my head gently sways back and forth as I feel inclined to be more honest, “I actually really loathe driving in the sleet, but I totally will for you.”

His dark brows lift in surprise.

“I just wanna know you’re somewhere safe…and warm…” The confession has me nervously biting my bottom prior to prodding. “Do you um…Do youhavesomewhere like that to sleep tonight?”

Mr. Green eyes keeps his distance.

His wordless nature.

Slowly shakes his head.

“Well, you do now.”

The declaration pulls his brow together in perplexity.

“You can stay here in the garage. I have a blowup air mattress you can use, plus the whole thing is insulatedandhas a helluva space heater to help keep it warm. My fiancé,” there’s no stopping my head from whipping back in forth, “er…ex-fiancé,” another frantic headshaking is presented, “deceased fiancé, which is definitely the worst of those three phrases,” I helplessly cringe and try to continue onward less awkwardly, “heused to build model cities out here.” Pointing to the covered, untouched structures nonchalantly occurs next. “It was the only hobby he ever had. And now that I think about it, that was probably for the best. That shit was expensive. And he had expensive tastes on top of that. Any other hobbies, and I’m afraid to think what our bank accounts might’ve looked like. Or our sex life for that matter considering how often he ended up touching those rather than me.”

The homeless man’s eyebrows twitch in question over the unexpected truth bomb.

Okay, where were you?! Why didn’t you stop me from letting that out?! He didn’t need to know that!

“Anyway, my point was, the space heater out here actually makes this entire place feel pretty hot. Just as hot as inside the house. Definitely much warmer than…out there. So…um…what do you think? Wanna crash here?”

Yeah, yeah, what I’m doing is a little insane, but I can’t just throw him back out there. Fuck that. Iwon’tjust throw him back on the street with no place to go. No way to stay warm. Nothing to protect him from the fucking sleeting out there. Look, the last thing I want is for him to catch pneumonia or hypothermia or frost bite or one of the other million weather related illnesses my mother has been lecturing me to wear my coat to shield me from since I was four. He needs somewhererealto sleep tonight. He could die if I sent him back out there. And I don’t want that. I don’t want that at all.

For the first time since we’ve met, the homeless man finally speaks, proving that he is indeedcapableof it. “Why are you so nice to me?”

Fuck me, even his voice is sexy?!

Deep.

Firm.

Gruff.

Ugh, how is that fair?!

Hm. No. No, I didn’t just say sexy. I said…Okay, well I meant…you know what. That’s enough out of you for right now.

The retort I offer back is done with a soft grin. “Why not?”

His head immediately cocks to one side as if the question broke his brain.

Maybe it did.

And if it did, perhapsthat’sthe bigger issue than my willingness to help out someone who desperately needs it.

And yes, before you ask, if he were a woman, down on hard times, in need of food or shelter or momentary shielding from the Little Twat That Could next door, I would do the same thing. The fact that he’s attractive – you have eyes! – is just a weird, unexpected bonus.

Mr. Green Eyes does his best to relax in the moment.

To not fidget with the straps of his tattered backpack.

To not shift his weight.

Shuffle his feet.

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