Hunt Me Down - Chapter 45: Chapter 45

Hunter’s POV
I pushed the window open and shivered. There was no wind, but it was cold enough for the rain that had fallen through the night to transform into ice. I examined the tree: the cracks in the bark glittered, filled with the slippery substance. It would be smarter for me to walk into their house through the front door; I didn’t even know if his window was unlocked. But if I did that, I’d meet with Vallery, Mrs. Reed and her husband for whom today was the first day of the Christmas vacation, just like it was for us, the students. I didn’t want to see any of those people; I only wanted to talk to Nathaniel.
I climbed over the sill and carefully placed one foot on the tree, testing the surface beneath me. When I got used to it, I put my other leg there too and closed the window so that Raph wouldn’t get cold. I slowly made my way to Nat’s, smirking when I found that the casement wasn’t locked.
I realized the boy wasn’t in even before my feet landed on his carpet. I closed this window as well, deciding to wait for him in his room. I wasn’t sure how he’d react to my presence here, but he’d been the one who’d came to my house the day before; hopefully, he still wanted to talk. If he didn’t, then that was it: I was done waiting.
But apparently I’d have to do some more of that – waiting – before deciding once and for all whether we had a chance or not. It was noon so he was probably having lunch… How long could that last?
And what would I do while I waited for him to come up?
My eyes scanned the room filled with books. Those things were sorted out neatly, but everywhere: on the shelves, on his night stand, on his desk… Right next to – if I wasn’t mistaken – the same notebook, I’d read from before.
I remembered the passage had sounded like an essay and was about writing and how exposed one – in this case Nathaniel – felt when their words were shared with the world. But apart from being vulnerable, he’d sounded matured and even brave. I still couldn’t understand why the word ‘bravery’ came to mind when weakness was written about; maybe that was the reason: that he was afraid to put his musings on paper, yet he did so. The thought that I might see some more of his courage, made me want to read more.
I approached his desk and took the notebook in my hand. It wasn’t an extraordinary looking thing. Sure, it was leather-bound which seemed fancy for your average notebook, but there was no label on it or any sort of an inscription. I wondered what Nathaniel used it for; he’d already told me it wasn’t for homework.
He’d said he would share with me some of his writing, but not from this particular book, as it wasn’t finished. At least not back then. Perhaps it was now. I could simply glance at whatever was on the last page and if his work didn’t seem completed, I wouldn’t carry on.
I opened the notebook and turned the pages over until I reached the one I wanted.
I tilted my head to the side and began reading it.
*****
Nathaniel’s POV
Lunch had passed too slowly with my mother’s constant inquiries after my health. At first I’d felt at fault about lying to her, especially when she’d prepared the meal in accordance to the condition she thought I’d had – mashed potatoes and baked rabbit meat was healthy, no doubts about it – but my guilt was washed away by annoyance five minutes or about a dozen questions into the conversation. Thank God for Vallery! She acted sassier than usual, managing to anger both of our parents and take the attention off of me. I’d have to properly show my appreciation for her sacrifice later; she was downstairs, getting an earful from mom and dad – well, mostly the first – and I had reached the outside of my room.
I opened the door, wondering what I could do to express my gratitude towards my twin, and entered. As soon as I let go of the handle, I heard his level voice:
“Hunter Harris is a most selfish, self-centered hustler. Like a lustful demon, he seduces the innocent only for entertainment. This Asmodeus – incapable of true feelings – is a chaser of his own pleasure and completely careless about the sentiments of others…”
He’d found it.
He’d found my diary and was reading what I’d last written about him, what I’d penned down in my distempered state. His eyes – up until now glued to the page he was perusing – turned to me, cool as steel.
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” he began; his voice could freeze the Sun, “but didn’t Asmodeus fall in love with the human Sarah in the Book of Tobias? Unless, of course, he, ‘like a lustful demon’ try to seduce her, ‘the innocent, only for entertainment’?”
He didn’t even glance at the diary when he quoted me; it was as if he knew it by heart. How long had he been in my room and how many times had he read that passage?
“Hunter,” I uttered without moving, but he interrupted:
“What a ‘selfish, self-centered hustler’ you’ve described…”
“… Hunter I…” This time I took a step towards him, but he cut off both my speech and my gait:
“… And the person you described, Nathaniel,” his voice spat out the name; all traces of self-control were gone as his hands shook, his face set in a dangerous grimace, “is me.”
“Hunter, I’m sorry,” I my voice cracked as I tried to approach him once more.
“I don’t care that you are fucking sorry!” He roared at me, flinging my diary towards me. The notebook missed my face by less than an inch; I even felt the gush of air against my cheek as it flew past me. Hunter’s chest rose and fell rapidly in sync with his fists clenching and unclenching while I trembled under his gaze.
“I don’t fucking care that you are sorry,” he growled through his teeth and turning around, he dashed out the window. I watched frozen as he stood up on the tree just for a second before he shrieked and was gone from my view.
I ran towards the window, my heart fluttering faster than the wings of a hummingbird. I looked down and saw him on the muddy grown, his left leg and arm brought to his chest and his face contorted in pain.
“Hunter!” I screamed and got out the window. I climbed down the tree, losing my footing and falling over the bushes in my haste to get to him. I scrambled onto my feet, ignoring the burning pain in my cheek.
“Oh, my God, Hunter, are you alright?” I asked, kneeling in front of him. The left sleeve of his shirt was torn and a display of thin scratches, each of them oozing blood, outspread before my eyes.
“I’m fine,” he snarled and slapped away my arm when I reached to touch his bleeding elbow.
“You fell off the second storey; you can’t be fine,” I protested. “C-can you stand up?”
“I don’t want your help Nathaniel,” he growled. I couldn’t make out if he was clenching his teeth in anger or due to the pain. “And it wasn’t from the second floor, but from the damn tree and over the damn bushes.”
I ignored the fact that the tree was pretty much the same height as the second storey.
“But, Hunter, you are…”
“Just leave me alone,” he insisted slowly. I knew that if I pushed further,  he’d shout at me again, maybe even hit me this time, but I didn’t care; I wanted to make sure he wasn’t seriously injured and I wasn’t concerned with what I’d have to go through in the process.
“I’m sorry about what I wrote in my diary; I was upset, I wasn’t thinking straight…” As soon as I’d begun to speak, his fists balled up. “I didn’t mean that, Hunter, any of it, and I wanted to apologize…”
“And what the fuck is that going to change?” He wasn’t screaming, but I’d rather he’d done that instead of speak to me so coldly.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, my voice cracking like that of a child.
“I don’t care about you being sorry, Nathaniel. I care whether you want to be with me and obviously you don’t.”
I opened my mouth; no words came out, just a sob which I drowned in the palm of my right hand. His eyes grew large and the corners of his mouth slumped down, but in a blink of an eye he cleared all emotions off his face. I took a deep breath and with a shaky tone, I tried to explain:
“I told you, I didn’t mean those things…”
“It’s not just what you wrote, Nathaniel; you ran away from me.” His voice was low and even. “We kissed and then you ran away from me.”
“I didn’t…” I sniffed. “I didn’t mean to do that either.”
“Then what…” His voice rose, but he managed to compose himself. “What did you mean to do? What do you mean to do now? Huh?”
I stared at him in confusion. What exactly was Hunter asking?
Thankfully, he explained without me having to question him.
“Do you want to be with me or not?” When I didn’t reply, he went on: “That’s the easy part, Nathaniel. Do you want it? Do you want me?”
“Yes,” I answered, almost voicelessly and he gave a stiff nod.
“Now for the hard part: are you going to be with me?”
The answer came readily. Perhaps it was because I was too tired to care about what others might think, perhaps it was because I realized this was the last chance that Hunter would give me, or perhaps it was a combination of both… Maybe I just stopped thinking altogether and instead of trying to rationalize my situation, I followed my desires and repeated that one so short, yet difficult word:
“Yes.”