As soon as they were back home, Kant went to make himself another cup of coffee to look over the file. But Gabriel was immediately on his case.
"Didn't you just drink your second coffee at the bar? If you're feeling tired, maybe go to sleep?"
Kant glanced at the coffee table. As if he could sleep with a dead body on his table and the six-year-old resentment that had been stirred alive, wreaking havoc inside him.
That scarred prick had showed up on Kant's radar after all this time. Rest and peace were the last things on his mind.
Gabriel grimaced as he stared at Kant as he loaded up the coffee machine. "Looking at you makes me feel sick, and I'm dead."
The ghost walked up to the coffee machine and unplugged it. "You don't need another cup."
Kant sent the ghost a glare and plugged the machine back in before pressing the power button with more force than necessary.
"We had a deal: go to the bar, then come home and you'll let me do what I need to do."
"Yeah, well, but now you look pale, like you might croak anytime," Gabriel tapped the whirring coffee machine, watching Kant.
"I'm not planning on dying anytime soon," Kant retorted as he poured the black coffee into a mug. But if dying from suppressed anger was an option, he might.
Gabriel swiped the mug from under his nose. "Yeah, I wasn't planning on dying anytime soon either, but look at me now," he gestured at the coffee table. "Death sneaks up on ya."
Kant reached for the mug in the ghost's hand, "Give it back. I'm not kidding."
"No. It will do you no good," Gabriel stepped out of his reach.
"Gabriel," Kant warned, his voice strained with frustration.
The ghost gave him a disapproving look. "I'm not giving it back. And if you pour yourself another cup, I'm taking that too."
Kant gritted his teeth, locking his tongue behind his teeth before any spirit-withering words could leave his mouth. He gave up on coffee and took a seat by the table, opening the envelope.
Gabriel leaned over his shoulder, peering down at the papers. "Can you even focus right now?"
Kant stared at the information, reading the words but not taking anything in. He pinched his brows. Focusing his eyes was making his head pound.
Where did he leave his reading glasses? Damn it, weren't they supposed to be on the table? Why were things such a mess?
"What do we do next? Should we do some research on the wishes?" the ghost suggested.
Kant closed his eyes for a moment, his fingers crumpling the page in his hand slightly. He inhaled and exhaled slowly. Won't Gabriel ever shut up?
The ghost was relentless, circling him like a fly. "Are you ignoring me again? I told you, I won't disappear if you pay no attention. I swear, talking to you is like talking to a wall. Hello?"
That was it. The last grain of Kant's patience slipped through the sand clock. He gathered the papers with shaky hands, stuffing them back into the envelope and going to the bedroom before he blew a fuse.
Gabriel watched him with triumph. "Going to sleep? Great! Sleep off your grumpy attitude while you're at it!" he called after him.
Kant slammed the bedroom door behind him and sank onto the bed, head in hands. Past was in the past. That's what he tried to tell himself. But just the mere sight of the scarred guy plunged him back into the worst scene of his life.
The cries, the desperate begging to stop, followed by metal poles dragging across concrete before meeting flesh. It all echoed in his head as if it had happened just yesterday.
With a sigh, Kant pulled the corner of the duvet over himself and stared at the room.
Daylight slipped into the room through the gap between the curtains, casting soft patterns across the floor. It was quiet. Serene, almost. The complete opposite of the mess in his head.
As he closed his eyes, his vision was filled with a haze of static, like television tuned to a dead channel. What was supposed to be a quick nap, turned into a dreamless abyss that sucked him in without a clear end.
. . .
Kant woke up to a teaspoon poking his cheek, the coolness staying on his skin even after it withdrew.
"Hey, I made you tea," Gabriel gestured the cup on the bedside table.
Kant rubbed his eyes and sat up, uncomfortably hot under the covers. He groggily glanced at the lamp on the bedside table, wondering why it was on before realizing the sun had set.
"How long was I asleep?" he asked, his voice coming out rough.
"A while," Gabriel replied simply, handing him the cup.
Kant took it, the warmth from the tea adding to his body heat. "Why?"
"Why I made you tea?" Gabriel rolled his eyes, a slight smirk on his lips. "It's just leaves steeped in hot water, not a marriage proposal."
Kant let out a scoff and took a sip. The warm liquid slid down his throat, sweetness lingering in his throat.
"You added sugar?"
Gabriel grinned, leaning on the bedside table. "Thought you could use a little sprinkle of joy."
A harsh buzzing sound came from Kant's phone on the bedside table, vibrating against the tabletop. He leaned over to pick it up.
The screen was painfully bright, making his eyes wince as he accepted the call. "Yeah."
"Finally picked up," Jones's voice came through sharp.
Why was he calling? Kant frowned in confusion, pulling his phone back from his ear to check the date. Fortunately, he hadn't slept through two days in one go.
Kant cleared his throat and put the phone back to his ear, "What's up?"
There was a moment of silence on the other end, then Jones spoke again, "I'm at your apartment. Come open the door."
Kant's eyes went wide. "What?" He cast a glance at the bedroom door, thinking about the body lying on his coffee table behind the door. There was no way he was letting Jones in.
"Why are you here?"
"What do you mean 'why?' I came to see you," Jones replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"See me for what?" Kant questioned, keeping up his usual act. "Can't you send a message if you need something?"
"I did," Jones grumbled, "I sent you like ten of them."
Gabriel, who'd been listening intently, shrugged with a guilty smile. "Sorry. You slept through the notifications, and I didn't want to wake you."
Kant sighed, closing his eyes. He had no idea how he'd managed to sleep through the continuous buzzing. Must've died for a few hours before coming back to life.
"Are you opening the door or not?" Jones spoke again.
Kant blurted out, "No."
"Got something to hide?"
Aside from the dead body, he had nothing to hide. Kant cast a glance around the bedroom, trying to come up with a good lie.
Gabriel tapped his shoulder, "Just tell him you're sick."
Kant paused, then let out a cough. After sleeping for nearly eighteen hours, it wasn't difficult to sound like he was ill.
"I've got a cold."
There was a moment of silence from the other side. Then came Jones's doubtful tone, "A cold?"
"Yeah," Kant kept his tone neutral. "My heater broke."
The ghost was snickering quietly next to him, looking extremely proud of himself. "Nice excuse for once!"
"…Okay then," Jones replied, but he didn't sound very convinced.
"Why did you want to see me, anyway?" Kant asked, hoping to distract him.
There was clicking on the other side of the line before Jones answered, "No reason."
"No reason?" Kant's eyes narrowed. Jones never came to see him for 'no reason'. There was always a reason.
He heard some more clicking on the other side, and Kant's alarm bells went off. "Jones, what are you doing?"
"I'm coming in," Jones replied casually, and Kant could hear the slight click of the front door unlocking.
Gabriel jumped as Kant flipped the duvet over, getting up as if struck by lightning. He flung the bedroom door open, the ghost following him with questions, "How is he coming in? Does he have the keys to your apartment?"
Kant ran to stop it, but it was too late. The front door was already pushed open and Jones stepped in.