Not me, was what I wanted to have said.
He had asked himself back in a gruntled whisper what I had asked him the moment I opened my apartment door to him, the scent of alcohol wafting as I swung it with more force considering that it should be legal to slam one's door to someone's face to knock him over for banging on the door at 4 AM in the morning. That had been just three minutes ago.
"Kenshin, what do you want?"
"What do I want?"
Not me, was what I would've said, but I kept it in just in case he was sober enough to remember anything the next time he wakes up.
He seemed lost. It looked like he didn't even know what he was doing swaying in front of my doorstep, but something in his dazed eyes told me he had no where else to go. I heaved a heavy sigh and unfolded out of my crossed arms and still form to take a few steps over to him to wrap my arm around his waist and the other guiding his arm over my shoulders. With baby steps, we stumbled into my apartment and I lead him to the couch.
As I moved away and looked at his sleeping form, I considered of whether calling him a cab or let him stay the night. It would've have been so much easier to do the first of the two options. I would be doing him a favor of taking him home, and whether or not he'd be waking in his bed or at the foot of his door step, at least I knew that he wouldn't have any recollection of coming over here based on how he was dead wasted. That would also save him the awkwardness of having to wake up in my couch, to my cooking, and to my scuffling around for my coat and car keys as I hurry my way to work. I would save him the discomfort of having to start the morning realizing that he had drunkenly imposed on his ex's apartment. That would not have been a problem on my part; I think I have woken up feeling ashamed and disgruntled over the fact that he had just broken up with me just a few months ago for a reason where it becomes to be another story entirely.
But as I walked to my room to gather my best quilt and pillow and went back to his figure on the couch, I knew I couldn't give him the pleasure of saving.
I've done enough saving you.
So he'd have to have to wake up to my scuffling, to my couch, and to my quilt just so that he'd have a plenty dose of guilt and I'd have the satisfaction of watching him apologizing for blindly intruding my space while wasted.
That, and maybe I still love him enough to care.
I woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon, which was odd because I never wake up to the smell of anything after mentally waking up to the scent of my own brewing. It never usually accompanies bacon since there's really no telling if I'd be a success simmering between crispy and slightly chewy during the early morning while feeling this amount of fatigue.
I walked into the dining area where the said bacon and coffee were lying listlessly on the table with a note that would contain Kenshin's handwriting of hastily thanking me for accommodating him at the worst times.
Needless to say (or maybe perhaps needed), I was quite disappointed that I hadn't seen him leave the apartment.
Waiting, was what I had answered him when he asked me what I hated the most when I found him by my doorstep after I came home from work.
"Waiting, huh," He had a thoughtful look on his face, and I was near squirming with the number of uncertainty going around me on why he would choose to see me just to know what I hated the most after supposedly embarrassing him for his stunt not 24 hours ago.
Instead, I fumbled through my keys and opened the door. I wasn't going to let him in. I was sure enough that there is not much to be said if I'd invite him over, so instead I leaned on the frame facing him, waiting for him to make sense of his visit.
As if purposely making me wait and testing if what I had revealed to him what I hated most was true, he cracks an unsure grin and asks if I hate him, as well – Next to hating waiting.
I blinked in confusion, and next I was blinking out the tears and said yes.
He gives a relieved smile because he knew what it meant.
Because I would not have hated anything if I haven't loved it in the first place.