Soured Milk, 7

I thought he looked different.

I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I knew something had changed, and it wasn't until a while later, when I looked down and found a mop of black curls between my thighs that I realized his hair was no longer white. How I failed to notice it right away, I don't know.

Then he did that thing with his tongue and the black of his hair flew right off my mind, and instead, all I could see was a tide of orange and red that washed over my eyes in pulsating waves, rushing to the back of my head in a kind of swirled delirium; rising higher, higher, higher, until it was bursting through every limb, every end.

Then everything settled to this state of violet clarity; cool as the blue of his veins. I don't need to turn to see that he's sitting cross-legged beside me, "Welcome back," he teased, with a smug, satisfied smile.

I pressed my lips in silent protest. God, he's such an asshole.

"Oi, don't you have something to say?"

"Hmm?"

He hovered above me, balancing himself on the palms of his hands, "Hmm."

"It's black," I said, giving a quick ruffle to his hair.

He gasped, his body jerking in a kind of involuntary tremble, and though Sven would never blush, he looked away in nervous self-consciousness, avoiding the whole of my gaze until the last of his shivers had gone away.

"My mom used to do that," he smiled, a softness falling over his eyes; vulnerable and sad and melancholic all at once.

It was the first time that he'd mentioned his mother. In fact, I don't think he talked about his family at all. Once, he told me about a cousin of his, but even then, he was drunk off his ass, and only mumbled vague references to some childhood incident that I couldn't quite understand. "Is she still alive?" I asked, though I knew I probably shouldn't have. 

He glared at me with muffled annoyance, "The fuck should I know?"

"We don't need to talk about it if you don't want to. No need to be an asshole."

"Oh, fuck off, Min," he scoffed, pushing himself off and away from me.

"What? All I wanted was to have a pleasant conversation—"

"Pleasant conversation, is it?"

"That's not what I meant—"

"Don't mention my mother ever again, you understand? Find other ways to fucking humanize me."